Battle Hearts

by Nina Levine

  My morning drags on. Mostly because I’m keen to get to the part of the day where I spend time with Maddox. As I leave the accountant’s building, I turn my face to the sky and soak in the sunshine. Summer is my favourite time of year. The last seven summers have gone by in a blur of IVF treatments, IVF stress, financial stress, and all-round heaviness. It’s funny how while I was trying so desperately to make something happen that I really wanted, I let go of so many other good things.

  Last night, while I spent time in the nursery, I realised how much resentment I’ve been carrying inside. Not just resentment that our fertility treatments didn’t work, but also bitterness about what I’ve missed out on over the years. The kicker realisation was that I was the only one to blame for that. A hard truth, for sure, but today I decided not to spend time stewing over that, too. Life can so easily become a playground for beating ourselves up over every little thing if we let it. I know I’ve spent far too many hours in that playground. No more, though. Now, I choose the fun park to play in, the park that’s filled with joy, and acceptance, and curiosity. I want to get curious about life again; I want to explore all my options and see where they take me.

  I drive to Maddox’s school and pick him up, not mentioning the girl I see him walking with. I’ve sharpened my ability to hold questions back over the time I’ve known him. It might be my greatest accomplishment this year. Even Winter is benefitting from my new skills.

  Maddox slides into the front seat of my car. “You’re extra queeny today.”

  I smile. I got my hair done yesterday; this is his way of telling me I look nice. I’ve figured this much out about his language over the last few weeks.

  “So, when’s the date?”

  He gives me the bored look of his I often cop. I’ve worked out it doesn’t always mean he’s bored. Sometimes, it means I’ve hit on a topic he doesn’t want to discuss. I’m guessing that’s where he’s at now. Especially when he doesn’t answer me.

  “Okay, so I’ll take that as soon.”

  “Why are girls so fucking dramatic about shit?” He throws the question out with some frustration, making me wonder what’s happened.

  “You’re gonna have to give me some details before I can answer that.”

  He puts his feet on the dash before quickly remembering I don’t allow that. “Sorry,” he says as he removes them. Then he shares his thoughts with me, making my whole damn day. “Right, so I’m taking Kristy to the movies this Saturday, and now her friend is all over me about how I was the reason Kristy broke up with her ex, and the reason why he’s out drinking and screwing every bitch he meets. Like, what the fuck business is it of hers what Kristy and I are doing? And why does she bring this shit to me? I didn’t do anything to make Kristy break up with the guy.”

  “Firstly, we don’t call girls bitches. It’s offensive and uncalled for.” I look at him, waiting for his nod of understanding.

  “Sorry, yeah.”

  “Good. And second, there are a million reasons why girls do what they do, but what you might find is this girl could be jealous of you, and the time her friend is dedicating to you instead of her. That’s just a guess. My advice is to treat her with respect and make allowances for her while she gets used to having to share her friend, especially if this thing between Kristy and you turns into a relationship.”

  “Make allowances for her?”

  “Yes. If it is that she’s feeling a little left out, it’ll just take time for her to get to know you and see you’re a great guy. Include her where you can in your time with Kristy.”

  He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Fuck, you chicks are complicated.”

  I laugh. “And this is just the start of it for you. Wait till you’re married; shit gets hard then.”

  We talk about his new job working at Hungry Jacks, and the books he’s been reading during the rest of the drive. He also tells me in passing conversation that Eloise hasn’t been home for four days. It’s not breaking news to Maddox when Eloise isn’t around, like it is to me. He’s so used to it that he actually seems more surprised when she is home for many days in a row.

  As I park the car, I look at him. “Did you think any more about looking for your family?” We’ve briefly discussed his biological family, and Maddox gave me the impression he wasn’t interested to know them, but I wonder if that will change. I find it hard to wrap my head around the fact he lives with a woman who isn’t related to him, and who treats him badly and not at all like a parent figure should. I don’t voice any of this, though, because Eloise is all he’s known. And it’s not like I expect him to suddenly decide he wants to know his blood relations. I imagine that would be weird for him. I mean, fifteen years of not knowing they existed is a long time. If he is interested in meeting them, I think it would be an emotional process to get to that point.

  “No. I don’t want to.” I recognise the same closed-off tone I often hear in Winter’s voice.

  He makes a move to exit the car, but I reach out and place my hand on his arm, stopping him. “Maddox,” I say softly, “this is me you’re talking to. We can do honesty with each other without fear of judgement. I wouldn’t blame you if you were feeling all kinds of weird over this.”

  He sits in silence, and I begin to think maybe I’ve read something wrong between us. We’ve hung out, and texted, and talked a lot over the last month, but perhaps I read more into the friendship we have than what we really do have.

  When he doesn’t say anything, I grab my bag. “It’s okay, I get it. Let’s go choose some clothes for you to wow this girl with.”

  As I reach for my door handle, he says, “I don’t want to meet them just because they’re blood. I don’t get why anyone wants people in their lives just for that reason. I only want people in my life because they’re good people and want good shit for me. So no, I’m not gonna search them out. And before you say something about needing family, I don’t need anyone; all I need is myself.”

  I both love and hate what he’s said. Mostly, though, my heart just cracked knowing he’s closed himself off because he’s learned he can only rely on himself in life.

  I nod. “Okay. I won’t ask you about them again.”

  “Thank you.”

  We head inside and I help him choose an outfit. It takes less than twenty minutes, because he’s intent on doing this as fast as possible. When I see him checking out the price tags and pulling a face at the cost of the shirt, I say, “Have you got enough?”

  “I’m short $15.” He glances at one of the cheaper options he had. It’s nowhere near as nice.

  “I’ll cover you.” Maddox is a proud teen. I can tell straight away that he doesn’t want to take my money, so I quickly tack on, “I mean, you’ll have to work it off.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll pay you $40 to mow my lawn and tidy up my garden.”

  “Yeah, sweet. I’m in.”

  We pay for the clothes and I drive him home. As he steps out of my car, he turns and says, “Thanks for today, queen. I appreciate it.”

  I watch him walk up his path, my heart feeling all kinds of warm. This kid is helping me patch it back together and I never saw that coming.

  37

  Winter

  * * *

  “Baby,” Birdie says breathlessly when she answers my call. “I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. Mum and I were out Christmas shopping.” She points her finger to her head like a gun. “Shoot me now.”

  “Angel, you love Christmas shopping. What’s going on?”

  “I’ve changed my mind. And I’m not sure what possessed me for all those decades to love it.”

  I chuckle, loving her easy mood. “What’s changed?”

  Her eyes widen. “Everything! How did I never notice that children are so noisy? And that they run in front of you all the time? Oh my God, and don’t get me started on the people who push in line. I nearly smacked an old lady out today for being so rude. Seriously, of all the things I ever thought I’d go to ja
il for, I never thought it would be for knocking an old lady out. That “respect your elders” rule doesn’t apply when they’re being rude. Manners shouldn’t disappear when you get old.”

  “That’s your new rule?”

  “Yep, that’s how I’m living my life from now on.” She frowns. “Are you at home? I thought you’d be living at the clubhouse this week.”

  Birdie flew to Sydney five days ago to spend the week before Christmas with her mum, and I arrived home from Brisbane last night. I’ve got a shipment coming in from Torres to receive, and I need to take care of some other club business here. And since we’re not having any luck locating Bourne in Brisbane, handling stuff here at least makes me feel useful. I spent the morning at the clubhouse, and left there just after 2:00 p.m. to come home and do the mowing. I want to tidy up the yard so it’s not a jungle when we get home after Christmas.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I’m about to do the mowing.”

  “Oh, shit,” she says. “I forgot to tell you that Maddox does the mowing now.”

  I arch my brows. “Because?”

  “Because he needs the cash so he can take his girlfriend out on dates. They’ve just started seeing each other, and I really want to help him out. You should see how happy he is because of her.”

  Birdie’s eyes have lit up like I haven’t seen them light up in too fucking long. Christ, did I miss the moment they first lit up again while I’ve been knee-fucking-deep in club shit? She’s been telling me about her time with Maddox, but I’m not sure I’ve been paying proper attention.

  “Okay, so when’s he coming to do it? And do I need to pay him?”

  “I’ve already paid him. He should be by this weekend.”

  “You pay him in advance.” It’s not a question, and not even a statement. It’s more an I-should-have-known observation, because that’s my wife: always looking out for others when they’re in need.

  She smiles and bites her lip. “Well, actually, I’ve paid him a few times in advance. He really needed some new boots.”

  Fuck, I love her. Birdie’s the kindest, most giving person I know.

  “So,” she says, “I know you said you can only stay two nights here for Christmas, but I was wondering if you could push that to three?”

  “No. I can’t.” I’ve tried to make that happen, but there’s no way I can swing it.

  I can tell by the way the light filters out of eyes that I’ve disappointed her. “I understand.”

  The sound of another call coming in draws my attention. When I see Torres’s number on the screen, I say to Birdie, “Sorry, angel, but I have a call I need to take. I’ll call you back.”

  “No, don’t. We’re about to leave to go see a movie. I’ll call you tonight.”

  “Okay. Have a good time.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  When Birdie ends the call, I flick across to answer Javier’s call.

  “Torres. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until tomorrow.”

  “Something’s come up. We need to meet today.”

  Every instinct I have is suddenly on high alert. “What’s going on?”

  “I have some information for you. Are you free now? I can meet you at the usual spot in half an hour.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  The phone goes dead and I stare at it. What the fuck is going on?

  Torres is already there when I arrive. He exits his Bentley as I walk to him.

  Pulling my sunglasses off, I say, “I’m intrigued as to what information you have for me.” In the seven years we’ve worked together, he’s not once called me for this kind of meeting.

  He pulls his dark glasses off, too, and I’m struck by the serious expression on his face. “It’s the kind of information that may save your club.”

  Fuck.

  Now I’m all fucking ears.

  “Go on.”

  “I had a meeting with Silver Hell this morning. They want to do business with the cartel.”

  “What kind of business?”

  His eyes bore into me. “They want the cartel to switch all our business with you to them.”

  Motherfuckers.

  “And?”

  “You and I have built a strong relationship. A loyal one. That’s not something I take lightly. I said no.”

  “I appreciate that, Javier. And I feel the same way.”

  “That’s not all, though. They had someone else with them. A man by the name of Bourne. He’s the leader of—”

  “Zenith.” My mind connects dots it’s been frantically trying to connect for a long time. “Silver Hell is financing them.”

  “Yes.” He pauses. “They’re both determined to wipe King off the map. And while I’m not a fan of King’s, I refuse to see you and your club go down.” He hands me a folder. “This is all the information you need to deal with this once and for all.”

  I flick the folder open and skim over the information inside. “How the fuck did you get all this?” It’s everything about Bourne and his location in Brisbane. Both fucking locations, which means we finally have the second one we’ve been searching for over the last couple of weeks.

  “You recall all the information the cartel required from you before we agreed to meet that first time? This is what they had to give me to arrange a face-to-face.”

  I hold the folder up. “This won’t ever be forgotten, Javier.”

  “Let’s hope I never have to call the favour in,” he says before sliding his glasses back into place. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow about the delivery.”

  He gets back in his Bentley and leaves while I pull out my phone and call King.

  “Yeah?” he answers.

  “I just met with Torres and he gave me Bourne’s information, including his location. He also told me Silver Hell is financing Zenith.”

  “Fucking hell,” King says as he exhales.

  “I’m heading back to the clubhouse now. You still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. We’re gonna make a plan to wipe all these motherfuckers out.”

  I’ll fly to Sydney tomorrow afternoon and spend Christmas with Birdie’s family, and then I’ll leave Boxing Day to put our plan into place. Soon, this shit will all be over.

  38

  Birdie

  * * *

  “Birdie, have you heard a word I’ve said to you?” Mum asks early Christmas morning while I stand in her kitchen staring at the kettle waiting for it to boil. She’s been prattling on about her latest dating adventure, and while I did start out paying attention, my thoughts drifted off when she got to the bit about the guy still working in the same job for the same company for the past thirty-five years. I mean, who does that?

  “Yes, I’m listening,” I lie.

  She plants her hands on her hips and gives me her “you’re lying” look. “You were not.”

  I stare back at her trying to win this little detour in conversation, but I know it’s pointless. “Seriously, how is he not bored out of his brain still doing the same job for all these decades?”

  “Seriously, why are you focussing on that rather than the fact he wants me to wear leather, strap on a collar, and submit to whatever he tells me to do?”

  I almost choke on my own tongue. “Jesus, are you going to?” Not that I’m against a little BDSM if that’s what people are into, but my mother? I can’t even imagine it. She’d likely smack him away if he tried to dominate her.

  Her eyes widen. “Darling, I like a strong man, but if I ever tell you I have a safe word, have me committed.”

  “You have a safe word?” Winter says to Mum as he enters the kitchen and catches the end of our conversation. He appears as perplexed with the idea as I was.

  “God, no,” Mum says. “But the guy I’ve been dating wants me to.”

  “You gonna keep seeing him?” Winter asks.

  “Not if I can help it,” Mum says.

  I slide my hand around his waist when he comes to me, a
nd take hold of his face with my other hand so I can pull him down for a kiss. “Merry Christmas,” I murmur once I end the kiss. “How was your run?” He’s been gone for a good hour and is sweaty as hell, but I don’t care. I’ll take him any way I can get him. Especially since I’ve been in Sydney for the last week before he joined me late yesterday afternoon.

  He brushes his lips over mine again, whispering, “Fuck, you taste good.” Then, pulling away, he says, “The run was good, but it’s hot out there. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

  “Winter,” Mum says as he grabs the cold water out of the fridge. “I know you said you’re leaving tomorrow, but I’m missing my son-in-law. I’ve hardly seen you this year. Are you sure you can’t stay another few days?”

  I make eyes at my mother. We’ve discussed this and I’ve made it clear to her not to harass him about staying longer.

  She makes eyes back at me. Of course she does; she thinks she can get away with anything when it comes to Winter. He humours her more than anyone, but she’s about to find out that on this topic, he humours no one.

  The light in his eyes disappears. “No, I can’t, Jennifer.”

  Mum’s eyes widen a little. Winter never calls her by her full name anymore. “Not even an extra day? You could go home the day after Boxing—”

  Winter’s face turns to stone. “I’ve said no and I mean no. This isn’t up for negotiation.” He guzzles his glass of water and exits the kitchen without another word to either of us. I take in the set of his shoulders as he leaves; they’re hard as stone too.

  “Goodness,” Mum says, looking like she’s just been fully chastised. “I don’t recognise him this trip. He’s like a whole different man.”

  Mum hasn’t seen Winter in four months. A lot has happened in those months. Plus, it’s Christmas and that always brings out his darker side. “Remember it’s Christmas, Mum. Max is on his mind. And you know he’s got the club stuff consuming him at the moment. I told you not to give him hell about this.”