For the next few hours, Patrick yells himself hoarse. I hear the faint sound of him while I hang out with Scarlet and Pop.
Only two months ago, my father felt lost to me. Since he reconciled with Scarlet and Phoebe, Pop’s returned to the guy I always thought he was. First, he and Mom stopped dicking around with their booty calls. Now they live part-time in Conroe and the other half in Ellsberg. They even went on a mini-vacation to the Caribbean in early December before Ryder was born.
We teased him about copying Cooper and Farah’s midlife crisis vacation. Pop insists he didn’t steal his brother’s idea.
“He went to the Dominican Republic, and I took your mom to Cuba. Two completely different countries, children.”
While I’m thrilled Pop can identify two Caribbean nations, there’s no denying he chooses to live in Cooper’s shadow. At his age, that’s just not something he’ll ever change.
Still, Mom and Pop are happy. Scarlet and Phoebe were already living a good life, but now they enjoy the missing piece. If it were a contest, though, I’d be the happiest with my new wife and two sons. Plus, I finally get to kill Patrick Hegseth.
During dinner, the turd starts yelling again. I bet he smells the stew, and he’s probably starving. I think of Georgia and Rebel barely eating while on the run. How many nights did they go to bed hungry?
The next day, I wake up in my sleeping bag to find Scarlet staring at me. She’s clearly weighing whether fucking with me is worth waking up Pop sleeping nearby. I slowly reach up to scratch my nose while also flipping her the bird.
“Fuck it,” she growls and crawls out of her sleeping bag so she can attack me.
Our wrestling match wakes up Pop, who only chuckles when we start whining about the other cheating.
Breakfast is fried eggs and sausage links. Based on the uptick in noises coming from the coffin, Patrick wouldn’t mind a bite. I’m sure he also wishes for something to drink. His last liquids were alcohol. Not very hydrating.
But a man can live for days without liquid.
Though Patrick’s no doubt cold, the coffin gets enough heat from the cabin to prevent him from freezing.
Patrick has no quick out. He’ll have to patiently wait for his body to give up. Hour after hour of him tied up in the dark won’t bring back Georgia’s lost baby or erase what Patrick did to her and Rebel.
Nothing will ever fix what happened. I can only give Patrick a taste of the suffering he caused those I love. Then when he’s dead, I’ll spend the rest of my life helping Georgia and Rebel put the past behind them.
By the end of day two, I’ve won Jenga twice, built a snowman with Scarlet and Pop, and watched all the videos Georgia sent of Ryder yawning and staring at Rebel. Before I go to bed, I open the coffin to find a barely-conscious Patrick. He mumbles something about his mother needing him.
“No one in the world needs you, Hegseth,” I say and close the coffin.
On day three, Scarlet, Pop, and I hunker down to wait out a passing snowstorm. We drink too many shots of whiskey and talk shit about my uncle and cousins. Scarlet admits she likes the smell of her own farts and I try to force her to love mine too.
We laugh like we did as kids camping with Pop. I have so much fun fucking with my sister and father that I often forget a man is dying under the floor.
At some point overnight, Patrick’s pathetic life ends. Pop and I drag his body to a hole we dug days before and cover him with lye. Once he’s buried, we return to the cabin and pack up.
Pop offers to get rid of the car for us while Scarlet and I drive back to Conroe. He’ll do his business in Ellsberg before joining us. This weekend, Mom has a big dinner planned at her house.
Scarlet and I drive for two hours in light snow while singing every Chris Isaak song we know.
We return to a home filled with the people we love. For the longest time, I truly believed I wasn’t made for romantic love. Sure, I might find a woman I could tolerate just to pump out a few kids.
While that life wouldn’t be awful, I didn’t think my heart was built for the kind of painful needy love I feel with Georgia. I certainly didn’t think I had it in me to love a kid like I do Rebel, and I’m a sappy bitch when it comes to Ryder. And that baby doesn’t do anything yet besides sleep and shit. But all three of them own me.
Now when I watch my sister and Phoebe doing their lovey-dovey routine, I get it. My parents’ marriage makes sense too. I understand why they couldn’t quit each other even after years apart.
Though I doubted it, my heart knew exactly what I needed.
A FINAL WORD FROM THE APLOMB
If I ever start doubting my worth, I immediately remind myself that a man like Jack is crazy about me. A dream come true, he’s capable of both showing utter tenderness to those he loves and scaring the crap out of those he hates.
Even before Ryder is born, we begin drawing up plans for our five-bedroom house. The process feels overwhelming, but Jack has plenty of help from his family. Butch loves carpentry. Bubba is an ace at electrical. Tucker works construction back in Ellsberg. The men start digging the basement whenever the weather allows. Once spring arrives, they kick their schedule into another gear. The goal is to finish the house before the cold arrives.
Rebel helps pick out flooring and wall colors. When the worksite is safe, he joins Jack at the house. Throughout the process, the men teach different skills to Rebel and the girls. Once it’s time to paint, everyone joins in over a weekend. When we need to move in furniture, family and friends from Ellsberg drive to town to help us get everything done quickly.
The first few nights in our new home are tough for Rebel. He misses the farmhouse. Our new place has a similar homey, eclectic feel, especially with Phoebe’s artwork covering the walls. Even with his TV playing Marvel movies and Ryder’s white noise machine running in the room next-door, Rebel claims the house is too quiet.
Jack puts a comfy chair in Rebel’s room to allow us to sit with him until he sleeps each night.
“Heck yeah,” Rebel whispers when he thinks we’re upset.
Smiling at our boy’s choice of words, Jack says, “I grew up in the same house all my life. Moving here as an adult was stressful as fuck. You’re doing just fine, kid.”
Jack’s words are another example of his perfection. Even our arguments are enjoyable. When he gets grumpy, I get quiet. Then he apologizes for using bitchy frowns rather than helpful words to explain his frustration. That’s when I apologize for falling silent instead of speaking up. Finally, we have makeup sex. That last part happens even if our argument is minor. A quickie is never a bad choice. After all, our first one created a gorgeous, blonde slobber monster.
As a lark, we marry one spring day when our family and friends visit the farmhouse for a barbecue. Butch and Bubba’s little brother Buzz is licensed to performed weddings. He claims he got ordained on a dare from his Ellsberg cousin, MJ. That sounds about right for this family.
I truly embrace the Johansson state of mind during the family’s yearly RV road trip. We drive to Maine which feels like a million miles away to someone like me who’s never been out of Kentucky. As soon as Ryder is no longer nursing, Jack and I plan to enjoy a real honeymoon. Until then, we only travel as a quartet.
Those three weeks on the road with the Johanssons are a dream. I hang out in the back of the RV with Ryder while Rebel is Jack’s copilot. Our group sleeps in hotels, taking over pools and filling up restaurants. Soso and I are already close before the trip, but we are attached at the hip during the trip. Ryder and Venice even have the same sleep schedule by the time we return to Conroe.
Rebel grows up a lot that year, both emotionally and physically. He starts referring to Jack as “Pop” during our second Thanksgiving in Conroe. The first time, he only mumbles the word just in case he’s not supposed to say it. Jack quickly leans over and whispers something to Rebel. Whatever he says, my boy smiles shyly and walks over to hug me. Yeah, I’m crying. How can I not? Rebel is the best kid, and he deser
ves the best dad. Now he has him. If that’s not worth crying over, what is?
Jack loves fatherhood so much that he starts asking for another baby once Ryder stops breastfeeding at a year old, and I need to decide about birth control.
“I know pregnancy isn’t fun,” Jack says, kneeling before me while Ryder’s down for a nap and Rebel is playing at Hart’s house, “but I think having another baby before Rebel hits puberty might be the best.”
“I can’t argue with your logic.”
Worried he’s pressuring me, Jack adds, “If you’re not ready, I can wait. We’re young.”
“What will we name the baby if it’s another boy?”
“First name after my dad and then a biker middle name like Rooster or Rocket.”
I might not be able to tell Jack no about another baby, but there’s no way that I’ll ever agree to those names.
Fortunately, we have a daughter. I pick the name Reverie because it sounds pretty but also has “rev” in it.
“Like a motorcycle revving,” I tell Jack when I suggest the name.
“Your creativity makes me horny.”
“There’s no denying you have a preggo fetish.”
Jack laughs wildly at this suggestion and swears he just finds me sexy at all times. Considering I found him incredibly hot when he was needy with the flu, I accept his explanation.
Motherhood and marriage suit me. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, I might have gone to college and built a career. With Jack’s help, I could do that now. Though I want my high school equivalency, I realize I’m happiest when my life is focused on my husband, kids, and our large circle of friends and family.
I’ll never be a tough chick like Scarlet or even Soso. I lack the creative skills of Phoebe. My best days are playing with my kids and cooking dinner for my family and cuddling with my man. I don’t need to be anyone else. All of the women around me are strong in different ways.
I’ve also accepted I’ll never be a leader. I prefer to leave the big decisions to Jack. More comfortable when he’s in charge, I trust him to choose what’s best for our family rather than just for himself.
Despite my laidback choices, I’m no doormat. After all, Jack never treats me as a thing to be walked over. He always builds me up and is happiest when I’m happy.
My honkytonk Adonis offered me a do-over and will forever be my fantasy come to life.
A FINAL WORD FROM THE HOTHEAD
Watching my parents’ seemingly happy marriage end soured me on the idea of ever falling in love. What was the point of caring so much about someone if all those feelings might end up in the trash?
Except their love didn’t end. They just pressed the pause button. Seems nuts to me, but as soon as the Scarlet issue was solved, my parents instantly picked up where they left off. Deep down, they were never over.
I admire their ability to so easily fix what was broken. But no fucking way will I allow any disagreement keep me away from Georgia. Maybe because she was in danger when we first met, but I always feel like I need to check on her. If she’s at Soso’s house for a few hours, I call just to be certain she’s safe. Then I hint at sex to ensure she keeps thinking of me once we’re off the phone. That’s a good marriage right there.
Fatherhood isn’t as easy as marriage. I only have to please Georgia to keep our relationship solid. As a father, I need to work my magic on three very different kids.
As much as I love Rebel, and he loves me, we’ll never enjoy the same easiness I have with Ryder and Reverie. He entered my life with too much baggage, and a part of him will always be a Hegseth.
But that doesn’t mean he and I aren’t close. During our first spring together, he volunteers to help me with work assignments. The kid loves being outside as much as I do. He wears safety gear and a Johansson Construction badge just like me.
We usually work in the morning and stop for lunch at the pub before I drop him off at home to do schoolwork with his mom. Our father-son routine continues into his adult years.
We’re tight in other ways too. Like when Rebel hits his teens and gets a raging crush on his pseudo cousin, Kori Morel, I’m the one he comes to for advice. I assure him that digging the fiery redhead isn’t weird. They’re not blood-related. They didn’t grow up together since she lives in Ellsberg, and he only sees her during summer road trips. He can crush on her all he wants without being a creeper.
When she’s a little older, she admits to liking him too during a stop in New Mexico. Rebel immediately asks me for advice, and I teach him all my best moves. I might not be his legal father—the courts might look a little too closely into what happened to Patrick—or blood dad, but I’m the man who’ll never reject or hurt him.
Rebel takes years to really understand his worth. He struggles at times, and I see too much of his father in him. But Patrick gave in to his darker impulses while Rebel learns to reach out to others when he’s in an ugly place. Life didn’t start easy for the kid, and he’ll hold onto many of those bad memories until the day he dies. But he’s strong like his mom, and Rebel is surrounded by people who love the shit out of him.
Compared to his complicated, big brother, Ryder is, well, me. He’s easygoing, bossy, needy, and loyal. The kid drives me crazy sometimes. Usually when he’s at his most Jack-like. Of course, Georgia has him wrapped around her little finger, just like she does me.
Reverie is what I like to believe Georgia would have been with a good family. Our daughter’s quiet but confident. She’s a bookworm but also loves spending time outside. While she’s reserved even in her teen years and quick to offer hugs to anyone in need, Reverie’s also perfectly willing to throw down against her cousins if they give her shit. Yeah, she’s got a little Johansson badass in her.
Much like my father, Georgia and I aren’t cheerleaders for change. We refuse to move out of the house on my sister’s property. When Reverie and Ryder hit their tween years and start butting heads after sharing a room for too long, Rebel offers to move out. Georgia is terrified for her—adult—baby to be out of the house even if he spends half of his time in Ellsberg anyway.
The compromise is for him to live in the RV parked next to the house when he’s in Conroe. That way, he’s still in our parenting sphere while he can also enjoy privacy from his younger siblings, who think they need to do whatever he’s doing. In fact, we often find the three of them in the RV, watching superhero movies and eating dumpster food.
“I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t seen you that night at the honkytonk,” Georgia says while the younger kids bunk in the RV, and I can walk around naked with my woman.
“Or what if I hadn’t been a little buzzed and decided flirting with you was too risky?” she adds and rests against me after a round of couch sex.
“You and I were always going to be together,” I insist. “If it didn’t happen then, it would have happened later. I have no doubt about that.”
“Because it was fate?” she asks, grinning at my certainty.
“Think about it. Two one-night-stands led to women claiming I knocked them up. Even under the best circumstances, Jordyn and I never would have been more than friends. No way would I love her. You, though, were the one I couldn’t forget. And you were the one really carrying my kid. And even all these years later, we’re just as happy and horny as ever,” I say, and Georgia throws back her head and lets out one of her boisterous laughs. “So, yeah, it was fate.”
Georgia’s pale brown eyes soak in the sight of me in the way they often do. Nothing boosts my ego like having my woman swoon.
I like to believe I do plenty to boost her ego too. I encourage Georgia to work at Soso’s shop to provide her more independence. When the kids are out of diapers, she adds a shift a week at the Beetle Bug Nostalgia Theater. Plus, she learns Ukrainian from the Rossiya girls and accounting software from Scarlet. Unburdened by the Hegseth assholes, Georgia matures into the woman she always wanted to be.
Our life together teaches me what was obvious
with Scarlet and Phoebe and even with my parents—the heart knows what it needs. Forcing something that isn’t meant to be will only lead to disaster while walking away from something great is just fucking stupid.
Sure, Georgia entered my life with a ton of problems. Nothing was easy in the beginning. She still flinches too much if I get loud. I also catch her wearing that upside-down smile when her thoughts return to her lost son. Dealing with Milkweed left Ron dead and my club under pressure.
Yet once I met Georgia, my heart knew it found my other half, and no other woman would ever do.
THE END
DAMAGED WORLD READING ORDER
Note: These books are written so they can be read as standalones, but the list below is the preferred order regarding character introductions.
Damaged 1-7 (Sunday Morning and In the Wind are on different timelines)
Ramsey Security 1-3 (book 3 links most to the other series)
Junkyard Dog
Serrated Brotherhood MC 1-3
Rawkfist MC 1-3
White Horse 2-4
Right Amount of Wrong (Damaged Novel)
Ellsberg 1-3 (bk 3 takes place after Conroe 1 & 2)
Conroe 1-3
***The Little Memphis MC and Rawlins Heretics MC series along with my standalones romances are unconnected to the Damaged world.
ABOUT BIJOU
Living in Indiana with my three sweet sons, three wacky cats, one super mom (and her ugly dog), I love cats, Red Letter Media, Call of Duty, and sitcoms canceled before their time.
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Heart Like Mine (Reapers MC: Conroe Chapter, #3) Page 26