Gigi: A Black Sentinels MC Novel

by Johns, Victoria

  “Jesus, Ma, what are you doing?”

  “Sleeves!” she shouted triumphantly, putting the half completed one down and letting the needle fall off the end of the fishing wire. “Oh shoot. I’ve lost the needle again.”

  I was at a complete loss as to how to attack this particular situation.

  Next to her was a utility knife that she’d used to remove the leather from the chairs. To one side of her was some kind of paper pattern as well as one of my hoodies that she’d used to trace from.

  “Did you bring the band aids?” She waggled her fingers and it didn’t take a genius to understand that pushing a darning needle through leather with just the pads of your fingers was tough going. Christ, I was lucky she hadn’t managed to cheese wire a fucking finger off with the fishing wire she was using as thread.

  “We’ve got a first aid kit. Let me get you cleaned up.” I looked to the heavens and honestly didn’t know what to say. When I came back with some gauze so I could clean her up, I noticed she’d never looked happier.

  “Do you want to try that one on?”

  She pointed to the floor in front of the TV and there sat a homemade sleeve. “Later, yeah, Ma?”

  I untangled her from the fishing wire and took the second half-finished sleeve from her. “I know you think I’m nuts,” she blurted out.

  “I don’t think you’re nuts. I just worry about what I might find next when I come home.” I didn’t look at her as I started to pat the ends of her pin pricked fingers with an antiseptic wipe.

  “You know how I hate waste. I thought, let’s not waste the leather and my Griffin needs some sleeves for winter.”

  “Sitting on that leather isn’t waste. It’s using it for its intended purpose.”

  Mom went quiet and let me set about my task. Her fingers would be fine. They’d probably be tender for a bit and I imagined getting dish soap in them would hurt like a bitch.

  “Oh my God, I’ve ruined the three piece!”

  The realization kicked in.

  “Yeah.” I waited for the meltdown and the guilt.

  “But you’ve got some great new winter sleeves.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “I have.” Shame they were green and not actually attached to my cut, but I didn’t voice that.

  “Hated that bloody thing anyway. Your father only bought it because it was going for a song. I remember arguing with him about having a pea soup colored sofa. The man was an idiot back then, too.”

  I stopped what I was doing and looked up.

  The look on her face was different.

  Her words were different.

  This was the first time I’d ever heard her say something bad about him. The house she was living in was like a mausoleum. The only thing I’d ever removed from sight were the photos of him, the visual reminder fucking up her mind even more. Thankfully, he came and took all his clothes, but everything else had been left. She always said when he came to his senses and returned, she wanted him to feel at home.

  I’d never had the heart to remind her that he wasn’t ever coming to his senses; a brand-new wife and a brand-new life had seen to that.

  “It’s probably about time we had a new couch. I’m thinking something flowery. If I went a bit jazzy with the couch then I wouldn’t need to paint. Plain walls would compliment a jazzy couch.” I continued to stare at her, but she was oblivious to it. I couldn’t handle the emotions coursing through me because these were good feelings, feelings of hope. It was like I could see my old mom, and the fog was lifting. “What do you think, Griffin?”

  I thought that if she wanted to paint the whole house in electric blue paint with lime green spots and get turd colored furniture I wouldn’t care, just as long as this flash of the mom I grew up with wasn’t a one off.

  “I think I have the rest of the day free. We’ll clean this up and go get you a flowery fucking couch.”

  “Oh, Griffin, that mouth. I haven’t finished your sleeves yet.”

  “True, but they’ll still be here when you get back.”

  I wanted to add ‘unfortunately’ but couldn’t bring myself to put a stop to whatever she working through.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Gears

  Ask any man if he wants to go furniture shopping and you would get a unanimous ‘fuck no’, before you’ve even finished the question.

  Unless that furniture shopping is for a TV. Then he’ll tell you—as his woman—that you aren’t going. It’s a man thing and the only part you will play is waiting in to take delivery.

  Still, taking my mom to get a new couch was inspirational.

  The couch led to a side table, and the side table led to a dining room table. The new couch wouldn’t work without new curtains. The dining table needed napkins or runners or some shit and before I knew it, the Forerunner I kept for driving in winter was bursting at the seams. I was finally going to walk into my family home and not be blasted with the past every damn time. Maybe I should have let her get happy with a blowtorch that time. It could have sped up this process. The couch delivery wouldn’t take long. Fortunately, she picked something so fucking flowery, it was bordering on giving the sales staff a seizure, so they were happy to part with it. There wasn’t a lot of call for flowery, seizure-inducing furniture.

  Mom was on a roll, so when she suggested moving out the old stuff to the yard, I seized the fucking day. As I wrestled two pea soup colored armchairs out, she was dragging in the deck furniture, and having the time of her life. I had to calm my shit down and not get ahead of myself because I was stoked about this level of progress. I wanted her to get her head around life as it was now and not focus on what she’d lost, but see the beauty in new beginnings. I wanted my mother to find joy in life and live it again.

  It also stopped my fucked up brain from remembering how I’d screwed over Marnie, and had my heart broken by Gigi who had now decided to return and piss over all the broken pieces of it. My mom was important; they were not. I was also very aware of how I’d left things at the autoshop and that when I turned up for my next shift, I could be forced into some very public explanations. That would not be fun, so I’d already decided to get Mom settled for the night and then head over to Wolf and Angel’s place and have the discussion privately. Top and bottom of it was, Gigi whatever-the-fuck-her-name-was, was no longer any concern of mine.

  I still couldn’t bring my lips to mumble her new name.

  How the fuck could she be married and back like nothing had happened?

  “You got your head straight?”

  That was how Wolf greeted me when he swung the door open and saw me.

  “Just wanted to apologize for this morning. When’s Wave back?”

  He looked at me, handed me one of the two bottles of beer in his hand and then walked past me to sit on an Adirondack chair on the porch. Approaching his place on a bike had an advantage. It meant he was ready for whoever darkened his door.

  “He’s back when I say and that wasn’t a yes, Gears.”

  “My past turning up was a shock. Ma is up and down like a rocket. My life is mental.”

  I took a swig and handed the conversational baton back to him.

  “You don’t need to tell me that.”

  “Sorry about the Angel comment. You know I’ve only got the deepest love for that girl.”

  “Who mentioned my name?” She appeared like magic from the doorway, carrying her own beer. “Just got the kids down. Those hellions will be the death of me.”

  She looked exhausted but happy, and that to me was the best way to live out your life.

  “Gears, I had no idea you and Gigi had history. She mentioned she had history here but what happened?” I wanted to ignore her question or answer as little as possible. This felt uncomfortable. “When she came and interviewed, JP looked a bit freaked when I told him her name.”

  “He would. Back then I worked hard to keep you away from her.” She looked shocked. “Your pop’s request, not mine. I was still a prospect
when we were together. There’s not a lot to tell. We were together and then we weren’t.”

  Wolf sat back and let his wife do her thing. He knew she would have a far better chance at extracting more information that he ever would.

  “I like her. She’s good with the kids, but she seems a bit lost and I think she needs a family around her.”

  Wolf looked at his wife and the look she returned said what we all knew. They were both magnets for those with troubled souls.

  Angel had made up her mind and nothing I could say would change it. “I hope it works out for you. I really do.”

  “Why didn’t it work out with you two?”

  “No idea. That’s her story to tell. First time I laid eyes on her, I felt my world tilt and I stopped at nothing to make her mine. Was even prepared to butt heads with JP over it, but in the end, he knew I wasn’t ever gonna stop. I wanted her.”

  “Sounds romantic,” she said dreamily, looking back at Wolf who raised his eyebrows and shook his head in that ‘life isn’t a fairy story’ kind of way.

  “Has she told you anything about her family?” I asked. I wanted to know just how in the loop Wolf and Angel were.

  “Not really, just that her brother wasn’t a good man who left her with some shit to deal with and that it was time to come home.”

  That was the understatement of the fucking century. Her brother was so far from good it was like calling Hitler a peacekeeper. It took me a while to get an idea of what Gigi was about. Finding shit on Edward Livingston was just as problematic. Apart from his MC connection, he had his life wrapped up tight. MC brothers know other MC’s dirt. Fact. But none of us could figure out why the Hermanos had killed him. Most of the time I felt like being with her and getting to know her had been a dream. I was entranced with her from the minute we met and knew that one day I was going to make her my wife. We’d be Gigi and Griff. She always laughed and got shy over my future foretelling, but she never shot me down and it always made her eyes sparkle. I fucking loved the idea.

  One minute she was in my tow truck, then back at the autoshop, coming out of her shell and finally laughing a bit, and then next minute her brother and some fucking creepy dude screamed up in a beat up truck and dragged her out. JP had to hold me back from going and kicking his ass.

  I remembered it all like it was five minutes ago. Every second of my time with her was crystal clear.

  “I get you were close, but have we got a problem with you being around her now?” Wolf asked gently, bringing me back from my distant reverie.

  “Close. We weren’t just close. We were practically co-joined. She was my first love and I was her first, well, everything that mattered. I was gonna put my ring on her damn finger. I was just waiting for her to graduate.” Remembering that was painful, but not as painful as figuring out I wasn’t really her first. I was just the first she actually wanted it with.

  “Close then,” Angel muttered.

  “She mention me when she came for a job?”

  “No,” Angel said. “Should she have?”

  “She knew I was working on becoming a brother at the club back then.”

  “Gears, answer me, brother. We got a situation here?” Wolf was clever, really fucking clever. There was a reason he’d ended up becoming an MC president at such a tender age. He could get what he wanted out of people without having to resort to the Carnals’ usual method of torture and shallow graves. His connection to Angel and JP meant he had to make a choice when he left and disbanded the Carnals. It was Angel and the sedate life of the Sentinels or nothing.

  The fucker didn’t even blink.

  But the fact he had the ability to flip that switch and go to a dark place in an instant was just a bonus skill that kept others from our door. Adding the word brother into his question meant I wasn’t a friend or an employee; I was a Black Sentinels brother and he knew above all else, I’d take my responsibility to the club with extreme seriousness.

  I sucked in air and forced out the next sentence. “No. It’s all in the past.”

  I ignored him and looked to Angel. I had to ask the next couple of questions and it was going to be like gutting me to hear the answers.

  “Gigi…” It hurt to say her new name. “You know the guy she married?”

  “Not my story to share,” Angel shot back.

  “I saw her driving through town today. She wasn’t alone. She got a kid?”

  “Again, not my story to share,” Angel repeated. “But I get the impression she’s in trouble and who better to help out than family?”

  Fuck.

  I needed to bury the past, well and truly. Pining for answers I wasn’t going to get didn’t achieve that. I needed to make the break. “No, there won’t be a problem. I won’t be rolling out the red carpet, but I’ll be civil.”

  I stayed with them and nursed the same beer until the wail of a small child sounded above us. “Back in a minute.” Angel headed off to deal with Little Angel.

  “That’s my plans for the night firmly fucked and not in the fucked way I intended. The little cockblock will be in our bed, waiting like a damn human bolster cushion.”

  “Dude,” I laughed. “I’m just surprised you know what fucking bolster cushion is.”

  “Prick,” he muttered.

  “You wouldn’t have your life any other way,” I laughed.

  Wolf smiled at me and I knew I’d hit the nail on the head.

  Five minutes later, Angel appeared with a sleepy toddler in her arms. Little Angel’s hair was standing up on end and she was cuddling a doll like her life depended on it.

  “Where are her fucking legs?” I asked, looking at the kid whose bottom half was in some sort of sack.

  “Language, Gears,” she chided.

  “Babe, she and Liam have learned everything they know from you already,” Wolf threw back.

  Ignoring her husband, she proceeded. “It’s a grow bag. Keeps them warm if they kick off the cot sheets and stops them wandering.”

  “Does it work?”

  I loved this normality. Up until this afternoon, it had been a normality I hadn’t had anywhere else, even at home with my mom.

  “There is no contraption invented that stops that kid from wandering. She’s just like her mom. Come here, baby girl.”

  Angel handed the now more alert kid to Wolf while she sat down and picked up her beer. Little Angel was fascinated with the lights and outside noises and kept pointing at the moon.

  “Hey, think she’s already plotting her field route to get to the autoshop?” I asked. Angel laughed and Wolf shook his head, mumbling expletives that definitely weren’t for baby ears. The kids’ mom had been running back and too between the fields and JP’s house since she came to live with them. Angel had high hopes that her daughter would follow in her footsteps and that thought completely fucking terrified Wolf. On hearing my voice, she leant forward and stuck her arms in my direction.

  “Oh, I see. Daddy’s out of favor and we want Uncle Gears.”

  With no option to refuse, the snuggly bundle was thrust into my arms. Little Angel was fucking adorable. With the flutter of her eyelashes and the cutest smile ever she could bring even the most hardened men to their knees. I didn’t know what it was, but babies were always warm and snuggly, and they had this smell about them that just made you weak and loved up.

  When she put a hand out to give me her doll, I took it. “Thanks, beautiful.” Having second thoughts, she snatched it back straight away. “Oh, I see, just like your momma. She never used to share shit, either.”

  With her free hand, she raised it and using the barest, fingertip touch, stroked my beard and then giggled. When she came back in for a second go, I blew on her fingers and then ruffled them deeper into my facial hair. Her giggle came back full force and it was the most precious sound.

  We went on like that for the next fifteen minutes, me in my own world with a kid who took everything at face value. She didn’t see my confusion or struggles. Things for babies wer
e black and white, right or wrong, and the innocence was so endearing it needed to be cherished.

  “You’d make a great dad,” Angel said with inflection.

  “Not on the cards for me.”

  “Hey, you’re still young,” she countered, and I passed Little Angel back to her daddy before I could get sucked deeper into the conversation. I’d already had my heart broken once, seen my own father discard his family, and I didn’t need that kind of bind in my life.

  “Gotta go. Shit to do.” I stood up and saw the pissed off head-shake that Wolf sent to his wife. “See you in the morning.”

  “Take the day tomorrow. Get your head on straight. See you fresh on Monday.” I didn’t answer Wolf. I just gave him a chin lift. I was worried if I opened my mouth, I’d ask whether his kindness was because of Gigi screwing me up or my comment over having kids.

  As I got to my bike, I heard footsteps behind me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said, but I’m sorry.”

  “It’s been a long ass day and I’m just being an oversensitive pussy.”

  As I reached for my helmet, Angel stepped closer. Like her husband, she could also manipulate a situation and right now she was playing on the connection we’d had since we’d first met. “If it hurts you too much to see her then you’ll let me know?”

  Christ. She’d fucking do that for me as well. She’d burn Gigi because Angel had strong loyalties to the family known as the Black Sentinels.

  “I’ll be alright, but please be careful. Gigi had it bad growing up and you don’t just walk away from the shit she was tied to.”

  Angel interrupted me. “So did I. So did Dec,” she said, referring to her husband by his given name. “Even you’ve had shitty times, Gears.” Angel was the one person I’d confided in when all the shit went down with my parents. It happened by accident, but I didn’t regret it. She’d been a constant in my mom’s life, too, and because of it, my mom got to see Liam and Little Angel and have a break from the solitude she forced herself into. I figured my mom handled losing people the same way I did. Avoided that shit. Angel visited her once every couple of weeks and for just a few days after, my mom’s world seemed brighter and more colorful.