by Erin Osborne
“Martha, I have to go. Can you do me two favors?” I plead with her.
“Sure, honey,” she replies immediately.
“First, when you get a chance, can you send me a picture of him? Second, tell Tonya I love her always and I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I beg her with my words.
“Yeah. I know you’d be here if you could. Keep your head in the game so you come home safe and I’ll make sure you see your family in pictures. You’ll get sick of me sending them to you,” Martha answers.
“Never.Thanks, Martha.”
Hanging up my phone, I fill my tank, grab my receipt, and then move my bike to where the rest of the men are sitting. Walking inside the store, I grab a water with a few snacks so we can get our asses back on the road. I’m only going so far as to drop this load and then head home. My family needs me more than this fucking club does right now. Our contacts will understand. They actually put their family first for the most part too. It’s one of the reasons I don’t mind dealing with these guys.
Walking back outside after paying for my purchase, I see the guys all lounging around like they’re on vacation. I shake my head at them because they should be looking alive to ensure no one ambushes us when a bunch of civilians are around. I’d rather make sure the civilians are protected because I can get a shipment back. When other clubs and rivals are desperate to get their hands on a transport, they don’t give a shit who they take out. I don’t operate like that, but they’re not me, even the rest of my club probably wouldn’t give a shit about the civilians, I have to take that into consideration on these runs.
“What’s takin’ you so long?” my father sneers, as he glares at me while lifting his can of beer to his lips.
“First of all, no fuckin’ drinkin’ on the run. I told you this,” I spew, knocking the can from his hand. “Secondly, I’m only goin’ as far as the first drop off location. After that, I’m outta here. I’ll make sure the contact gives me the money tomorrow for the run. Don’t fuck this shit up.”
“You’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere. I’m still the President of this fuckin’ club and your way out is goin’ on the fuckin’ runs. What gives you the right to leave whenever the fuck you feel like it?” he questions, stepping in my face as his body odor and alcohol he’s consumed invade my senses.
“I’m on this run while my ol’ lady just gave birth to my fuckin’ son at home. That’s more important than anythin’ for this damn club. Don’t fuckin’ push me on this shit, Pres,” I growl out, not backing down from the stupid fuck.
My father laughs in my face and I lose my shit. Pulling my arm back, I let loose slamming my fist straight into his face. I hit my father over and over until my arms feel like they’re going to fall from my body. No one steps in to stop the fight, but there are other people here so I’m sure the cops will be called. It’s the only reason I reign my shit in, I leave my father on the ground in a bloody heap before walking over to my bike. Once I’m on, the rest of the guys make their way to their bikes or the van and we’re on the road again. My father can catch up to us or head back to the clubhouse. If he doesn’t catch up soon, he won’t have a choice in the matter. He doesn’t know the route we’re taking. Only the prospect up ahead and I do.
Merging into traffic, I have us obey the speed limit, so the cops don’t have any further reason to pull us over. That’s the last thing I need right now. Rage is still swimming through my veins as I think of how my father laughed in my face, refusing to let me leave. As I’m thinking of all this, my father pulls in front of me and remains there for a minute. I let him have his supposed power play as I laugh against the wind because he has no clue where he’s going. The prospect up ahead isn’t visible to him so he can’t follow him. He’s screwed and we both know it as he pulls back in next to me. Even with his helmet on and a bandana covering the lower portion of his face, I can make out traces of blood on his skin. My smile gets larger as I realize for the first time in my life, I have the upper hand against my father and there’s not a damn thing he can do about stopping me from doing anything I please.
We get to the drop off location and my contact is already there. I’m not even sure why I’ve been calling them ‘our contacts’ because they refuse to deal with my father. Hopefully, he’s smart enough to stay the hell away or we may just lose this guy, too. He’s already given the club so many chances as they continued to mess things up, drop the ball, and simply not give a shit about what or how they were doing things. Parking my bike, I walk over to Andrews so I can have a word with him. My father stays by his bike but removes his helmet and bandana. Andrews is laughing his ass off as soon as he notices my father’s face.
“What happened to him?” he questions me, taking his eyes off my father.
“I did. Just got word my ol’ lady had our baby and I wasn’t there for her. For them. Told him I was gonna leave after meetin’ up with you, and he refused. Started laughin’ when I told him my reason,” I respond honestly. “So, now I’m gone even longer because he’s an ass who doesn’t know how to put family before fuckin’ money.”
“That’s fucked up in so many ways. You were part of my crew, you wouldn’t fuckin’ be here, Blood,” Andrews states, looking me dead in the eye. “Any time you want to get away and become part of us, you’re more than welcome.”
Nodding my head, we go silent as the other van pulls in with a crew of five. We don’t want to call any more attention to ourselves than necessary, so we always ride with the least amount of men possible. I wasn’t planning on my dad coming along for this trip, that’s why I had the other prospect up ahead scouting for us. It worked out fine, other than the fight, thankfully. As the other guys get out of the van and SUVs, my father keeps his ass by his bike. One word from me is all it’s going to take for him to be completely out of this shit. I’ll take my contracts and run as far away as I can. He won’t have a choice but to lose everything.
Andrews hands over his portion of the money. Thanking him, I put it in my pocket because I trust this man more than my father. I know if the count is off, he’ll make it right. He wants me to join him too bad for any petty bullshit to happen. Marcus walks over to us handing me the keys to the van.
“You had any tails or trouble on the way here, man?” I ask.
“Nothin’. Took the route you showed my guy and sent a prospect up ahead to scout like you suggested. It was smooth sailin’. How’s things goin’ with you?” he asks, shaking Andrews’ hand and then mine.
“Wanna get home. My ol’ lady just gave birth to our second son and I’m fuckin’ out here and not with my family. My oldest son is with our damn neighbor,” I respond honestly.
“What the fuck you doin’ out here then?” Marcus questions.
Instead of answering with words, I simply look over at my father. Marcus is a smart man and understands what my meaning is. He shakes his head, pulling me in for a man hug before looking with disgust at my father. Everyone here knows the relationship we don’t have and how much I hate the club with what it’s become.
“Get the fuck outta here so you can get home to your family. Get the money at the next drop and head home. Those fuckers can wait until you’ve seen your family and you’re ready to hand it over to them. Fuck them all,” he practically shouts out into the crisp night air.
“That’s the plan.”
After saying goodbye to everyone, I walk to the prospects who drove the van here. Handing over the keys to them, I make sure they know to ride my ass. My phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see it’s a message from Martha. Opening it up, my new son fills the screen. Tonya is holding him cradled to her chest with a smile on her face and tears coursing down her cheeks. She’s in pain because this should be a moment for the three of us and I’m out here like a fucking asshat. Several more pictures come through my phone and I treasure each one as the men with me wait for the signal to ride. When I’m positive the last one comes through, it’s a beautiful picture of Tonya alo
ne, I send a message back telling my family how much I love them and wish I were there. I tell Tonya that I’ll be home as soon as I possibly can, then I put my phone away.
“Let’s ride!” I holler to the men I’m leading, starting my bike before the scumbag next to me can utter a word.
We start up our bikes then make our way to the next drop off point. My mind is made up. The second everything is exchanged I’m heading the fuck out; everyone can wait for me to show up with the damn money. I’m missing something extremely important right now, so they can live without their fuckin’ money for a day or two. I don’t really give a shit what anyone thinks at this point. Tonya and my boys are supposed to be first in my life, yet here I am once again not showing that to her.
It takes us two days to get to the next drop off point. It’s past the clubhouse, past where my woman is. When we passed the exit for me to head home, I had to steel my spine so I wouldn’t make the turn off to go to them instead of finishing with the business I have here. My father smirked at me since his bandana was ripped from his face on the ride. He didn’t tie it right, the dumb fuck. I’m counting down the time until I can get home to my ol’ lady and kids. Once the drop is done, it would usually take me another two days to get to my family. I’ll make the trip in one day though because I don’t give a shit about anything else right now. They’ll know what it’s like to fuck with me. My dad will be feeling it physically and in his pocket. Everyone else will feel it in their pockets. I’m sure word will get to them from the prospects that they can thank my father for it.
Fuck them all!
Chapter Six
Tonya
I’VE BEEN HOME with Logan for almost a week now. Blood has only left us once to take the money to the clubhouse he owed them. Other than that, he’s been at work or home. He’s not riding his bike like he usually would have, he’s driving my car, putting himself in a cage to punish himself. Since I know him better than he knows himself, I know it’s because he feels guilty that he wasn’t home to take care of me when I was in labor. Blood wasn’t here when our son was born. I heard he beat on his dad when he wouldn’t let my man leave to come to us. That’s why I’m not pissed as fuck about him missing Logan being born.
When Blood got home from the clubhouse, he barely talked, the rage that was flying off him almost scared me. I knew if I asked, he wouldn’t give me any information about what happened, so I just let him know I’d be there for him if he needed me and let him lock himself in our room for a while, so he could take a shower while cooling down. It says a lot for him to still be this pissed and filled with rage after a run. I’m not sure if it’s his dad still being an asshole to him or if everyone started bitching because he didn’t go right to the clubhouse afterwards to do the drop for the money. I’ll find out one day what’s going on.
Colt is an amazing big brother, he’s always at Logan’s side whenever he’s awake. If the baby starts crying, Colt wants to pick him up to take his pain away. Whenever Blood or I have the baby in our arms, he’s constantly looking to make sure we’re not hurting him or anything. It’s cute as hell. These are the moments I realize how much Colt is just like his father in so many ways. Other than my looks, Colt is all his father, and I love it.
While he’s at work, I’m usually hanging out at the house with Colt and Logan. Martha comes here to hang out with us. She laughs telling me she’s getting her baby fix. Yeah, her and Maddox are trying so hard for a baby of their own, but it hasn’t happened yet. So, she helps me with our boys and gets in her snuggle time with Logan while she’s here. I’m so grateful to have her in our lives since she’s a pure soul, the kindest, sweetest, best friend I’ve ever had in my life.
We are settling into a routine with our children, work, and the new friends we’ve made since moving. I’m not stupid enough to believe Blood isn’t having a hard time adjusting to life now. He’s in his early twenties, with the club being the only life he’s ever known as he grew up. Drugs, sex, violence, and pain are the feelings, emotions, and sights he saw on a regular basis there. Now, he doesn’t ride his bike every day, he works regular hours. There aren’t the parties or any of the shit he was always attending at the club because he had to “put in an appearance”. There’s a lot he misses, so it makes me wonder if he’s going to regret choosing the boys and me one of these days.
“Mama, where you at?” Blood asks, walking in the front door.
“In the nursery,” I respond, laying Logan down in his crib.
Blood walks in, trying to be quiet because our boy can be a light sleeper at times. Leaning down, he runs a finger down Logan’s cheek. Our son turns in his sleep toward his father’s touch. It’s the same thing Colt used to do when Blood would touch his cheek. These boys know who their daddy is, they feel his touch even in their sleep. I love seeing him interact with our children. He loves them with his entire heart and isn’t afraid to show it regardless of where we are or who’s around.
“How was work?” I ask as we walk out of the nursery.
“Long. Finished up a car that I’ve been workin’ on for the last few days. The customer’s happy, so that’s all that really matters,” he responds, leaning down to give me a kiss.
I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss between us. Nothing can happen sexually with me at this point since I just gave birth. That’s not to say I can’t make my man feel good.
“Later, you’re mine,” I tell him with my lips still firmly pressed against his.
“Not a chance. Not until you can join in on it too,” he tries telling me.
“Nope. You need me to show you I’m not still mad at you. So, I’m going to show you the only way you’ll understand. Deal with it,” I state.
We walk out to the living room where Colt is watching a cartoon on TV. He’s playing with his motorcycles because my boy doesn’t want to play with cars when his daddy rides a bike. At almost three years old, he even calls them cages like Blood does. It’s funny as hell and I know he’s definitely going to follow in Blood’s footsteps when he gets older. I’ll be proud if both of our sons follow in his footsteps. Their dad is an amazing man with a heart of gold, and when you consider the upbringing he had that’s practically a miracle.
“What do you want to do for dinner?” Blood asks me, sitting on the couch so Colt can climb up on his lap.
“I think Martha and Maddox are coming over tonight,” I let him know what our friend said earlier.
“Nice. We can play cards or somethin’ when the boys go down.”
Nodding my head, I pick up Colt’s toys in the living room so I can vacuum before our friends come over. Martha’s been helping me clean up whenever she’s over here. I’m tired as hell and have been doing the best I can, but she always just steps in to help whenever I need it. It’s who she is and I’m not going to change a single thing about her. Maddox is quiet to her talkative nature while I’m outspoken compared to Blood’s no-nonsense talking. If he doesn’t have anything to say, he doesn’t talk; there’s no need to fill the silence with sound just because according to him.
For the next hour or so Blood and I sit cuddled on the couch with Colt. He’s watching his cartoons as I close my eyes to take a short nap while Logan’s sleeping. I have breast milk pumped for Blood to help feed him, but I’d rather do it myself if I can. Blood lets me sleep while he hangs out with Colt, waiting for our friends to stop over for dinner.
Waking up, I hear Logan’s cries. Sitting up on the couch, I realize Blood and Colt aren’t in the living room any longer. Instead of searching for them, I head to the nursery. Stopping in the door, I watch as Blood lifts Logan from his crib. He cradles our small son to his chest while Colt follows him over to the changing table. Once he has him there, Blood quickly changes his diaper while I move into the room, taking my seat in the rocking chair. Once Logan’s onesie is back in place, my man brings him over to me. I’m wearing a loose tank top with a nursing bra on. After arranging myself, Logan latches on while I’m covered with the blanke
t that we keep over the back of the chair for this very reason. Colt doesn’t need to watch me feeding his baby brother.
“I ordered pizza, wings, garlic bread, and fries for dinner. Knew Colt would want his fries,” Blood states as he watches me feed our son, not that he can see anything.
“Sounds good,” I respond, looking up with a smile on my face.
“Bring him out with you when you’re done. I want to get my cuddle time in before Martha gets here,” he informs me, laughter filling his voice.
“Yeah. She’ll steal him from you,” I respond, laughing a little at the thought of Martha taking our son from Blood’s arms.
While I finish feeding Logan, I hear Blood and Colt murmuring to one another in the living room. They’re probably playing on the floor or watching something Blood wants to watch about engines, bikes, or any other vehicle related show. They’ll sit together for hours on end watching those shows. No one else exists while they’re on. I love it that Colt gets so occupied in something his dad loves. I’m sure it won’t be long before the two of them are out in the garage working on bikes and my car together. Then, Logan will be joining in with them when he gets old enough. I can’t wait for it to happen.
By the time I’m done feeding Logan, I hear more voices in the living room. Martha and Maddox must be here now. It shouldn’t be long before our food gets here, and we can eat. After burping my son, I adjust my clothing so I can join the festivities in the living room. Any time our friends are here, it’s a party atmosphere filled with laughter, love, and people genuinely caring for one another. We don’t have to worry about ulterior motives or anything else from the Wilkes family.