Every so often Diego would lean towards the window and his eyes would find me. They held me with an intensity that spoke volumes and made me tingle from head to toes. Then he went back to the fist pumping and the slapping each other on the back and talking about whatever badass bikers discuss.
Pinky dragged out a big box of pictures and we were to pick some to make a montage for Lilah’s services. We looked through them and even though I was mindful of the circumstances, I couldn’t help the warmth of the feelings coursing through my veins at seeing old family photos. Claire and I had no photos of ourselves as children, none of our mother, none of our father. No photos of us sitting on Santa’s knee or hunting for Easter eggs or blowing out birthday candles. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I thought I remembered my mom having a book somewhere like that. Well, maybe kind of like that, but somehow it had gotten lost along the way.
Pinky’s photos of her sister were funny and sweet and she had a story to go with each one. There were a few of Prosper as I remembered him. There were some of the lake house where we spent that summer and I was a little disappointed that there were none of Claire and me. I knew I had no right to feeling that so I pushed those feelings aside and enjoyed the pictures for what they were.
Lilah had been beautiful once. Young and pretty with light brown hair and freckles. Unfortunately you could see the steady decline in the photos. The first tattoo, then the second, then the full sleeve. The first piercing, then the second then the third. Pictures with the first bad man, then the second bad man, then the last. Then finally Lilah beginning to look better again, then good. The most recent with Lilah in a bikini holding up a large trout that she had caught with Pinky and Prosper at the lake house. Three months later Lilah would be dead.
We put together a beautiful mosaic of the Kodak moments of Lilah’s life. It came out great and I know that Pinky was pleased. The cleanup crew had gone by that time, their men taking them away in a roar of engines. Diego, Prosper and Reno had moved into the house with us and they were admiring our handiwork. Reno and Prosper added some great memories to the ones that Pinky and Dolly had already provided. Leaning back into Diego’s arm, I felt it again. The warm feeling that being with family provides. Maybe.
I caught a look pass between Prosper and Pinky and while I wasn’t sure what the look meant, I had the feeling it was about me. Prosper got up and left and I closed my eyes and got lost for a moment at the feeling of Diego running his fingers through the strands of my hair that hung near my waist. He was always doing that. He seemed to love playing with my hair and I loved him doing it. I felt Diego move away from me and looked up lazily to see Prosper take his place next to me. I smiled at him and he smiled back and nodded at something he had in his hand. I looked down and gasped. I lost it. Lost. It. Totally.
There sitting in Prosper’s lap was the book. The photo book that I remembered from my childhood. I looked at him, then at Pinky, then at him again. I placed my trembling hands on it. Then I did the thing I seldom allowed myself to do in private and almost never did in public. I burst out crying.
And I didn’t stop for a long time.
*******
Jesus. She was beautiful. In bed, out of bed. Goddamn crying her eyes out. She was so fucking beautiful he wanted to bury himself deep inside of her and never come out. And Diego owned Raine. She was his. He made that clear a whole lot of times in that hotel room. She had been hot for him. Willing and hungry. Soft in all the right places.
He had been watching her all afternoon. Every time she moved, he moved. Like some crazy stalker but he couldn’t help it. Everything about her fascinated him. The way she hung back from conversations until she was invited in, the way she listened, really listened to what people said to her. The way she searched the room for him. Eyes touching but never landing on all the other dudes in the room until they landed on him and then she would smile. And that smile went straight to his dick, but on the way down it touched his heart.
Now she was sleeping next to him. After she had finished the adorable crying marathon where she had held on to Prosper like she was drowning. That flood of tears had soaked his shirt straight through. Diego had felt a surge of jealousy run through his bones so deep he felt something crack. Pinky moved him into the kitchen and together they shared some reefer and what was left of the Tequila. Pinky shared some more of Raine’s history and Diego listened to every word.
When they heard Prosper yell, “Coast is clear.” They also heard Raine giggle and knew that the crying jag over.
Raine was pretty quiet on the way home but once they hit the room she never stopped talking. She was so excited about that old photo book that he swore she was practically orgasmic. She showed him pictures and told him stories. She spoke more to him in the next hour than she had done the whole time he had known her, which he admitted wasn’t very long.
While he loved hearing the stories his thoughts were mostly towards getting in her pants. Every time she leaned in to point at something and her tits brushed his arm he had instant wood. Her hair brushed against his forearm and he had to clench his jaw to keep himself reigned in. He knew she was sharing something important but having her was so new he couldn’t wait to have her again. And again.
So after the fourth page of pictures he made his move. He took the book from her excited hands and excited her in a different way. And because she was so happy she was different this time when he took her. While she was willing before, this time she was eager. She undressed him and kissed him all over. All. Over. She stroked him and nuzzled him. She tugged at him and put her mouth on him. Then she climbed on top of him and rode him. First slowly with a control that had him in awe. Then harder and harder. Her heavy tits bouncing while he came hot and hard inside of her.
Then he had flipped her over and took her again. Then over one more time. She felt his mouth on her and she opened wide for him. And he took his time. Tasting her honey, his tongue sliding over her clit and pushing its way deep inside her. God, she tasted sweet and clean and new. He fingered her and watched her face as she started building. Her eyes on his the whole time. Then just when she was almost there he took his fingers away. She shuddered and looked at him with those beautiful big blue eyes pleading with him to finish her. He moved his big body over her smaller one and pulled her to him. He slung her legs over his shoulders and drove himself home.
Chapter 33
We were back at the farm house with Pinky and Prosper getting ready to head out to the services for Lilah and that’s all I could think about was the incredible night, middle of the night, and very, very hot morning I had spent with Diego. Under him, on top of him, clasped tight to him, and every other way imaginable.
Wow.
I was dressed in my new blue pencil skirt, my new white blouse and some seriously high heels. Diego had told me (yep, told me) to leave my hair down and I had. Minimum make up, large silver hoops and I was done. Diego had a new button down white shirt under his cut and black leather pants that laced up in the front, black biker boots and a black and silver belt. He looked beautiful.
And I felt beautiful standing next to him.
The services were lovely. Pinky and Prosper had decided to combine the viewing with the church services and the church was packed. The church was progressive and allowed Pinky and Prosper to do as they saw fit to honor Lilah. There was a slide show, a number of eulogies and ending the ceremony was Prosper and I playing guitar to one of Lilah’s favorite songs. Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen. I thought the last verse was particularly relevant. When we hit the chorus it surprised me to hear the congregation (such as it was, a sea of blonde and leather) sing along.
I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
H
allelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Chapter 34
Prosper, Diego and Reno headed home two days after the services. Pinky had asked me to stay behind with her and Dolly to get things settled. I was happy to do that. Despite the tragedy of it all, those were some of the best days I had ever spent. Later on, I would draw on these memories as a source of solace and strength. Glad to have had that time.
Pinky and Dolly brought me right into the fold and we had long mornings sitting at the coffee table pouring over my treasure book of photographs that Prosper had rescued from my childhood. Some of the pictures were events I remembered, some I didn’t. There were pictures of my mom and my dad and Claire and I as babies. Candid shots. Claire and I in a bath tub, Claire sleeping in dad’s arms, my mom pregnant with Claire holding my hand and smiling that sweet sad smile that I remembered so well. If the pictures and the memories made Pinky uncomfortable she didn’t let on and I loved her so much for that my heart was near to bursting. What a gift they had given me. Claire and I had mattered, we had been seen. We had been loved. I couldn’t wait to share them with my little sister.
Pinky had decided to put the family home up for sale. We helped her do that. The three of us drove into town and met with a realtor. The realtor came out, assessed the property and told us what we needed to do to get a fair and quick sale on the house. We did those things. Pinky hired some painters and had the kitchen floor replaced. We spent the week packing and cleaning and threw a lot of stuff out. A lot. There didn’t seem to be much that Pinky wanted to keep as reminders of her childhood and I completely got that.
Once I walked in to find Pinky sobbing in Dolly’s arms and when Dolly’s eyes met mine it was with mutual understanding. Not one of the three of us had had an easy life. Packing up the remnants of that kind of life could dredge up a whole lot of muck, and that week poor Pinky was knee deep in it. That’s why, Dolly explained to me later that day, that Pinky had needed her girls with her at this time. Then Dolly thanked me for being there.
Her girls. Thanked me.
I wondered how it could be possible that these two brave, generous, loving women didn’t know what a gift their acceptance and love was to me.
Over the week I spent with Dolly and Pinky, we shared a lot of our history. It didn’t happen all at once and there was no pity party. It happened in between moments of laughter and tears and morning coffee and late night margaritas. Pinky shared some hilarious moments with Prosper and I laughed until I cried. Dolly, not to be out done, also shared stories about her man. Big badass biker stories in their testosterone fits and macho moments. They also shared their tender most loving memories and that had made me cry in a different way. I wondered for the millionth time what it would be like to have a man love me, really love me like these women had been loved.
Chapter 35
When I returned to the compound with Dolly and Pinky things began to take on a sort of rhythm that felt good I continued to live in Prosper’s rooms and continued to work at Reds. Pinky and Prosper still owned the lake house which was about twenty minutes away in the direction of Ruby Reds. They lived in a modern raised ranch a few miles away. Prosper had explained to me that “in the days when he was whoring and drinking” that he spent a lot of nights at the club house, but now he mostly wanted to be where Pinky was and that was the ranch house a few miles away.
He then went on to say that while I could consider that rooms mine, he figured I would want to have more of a place to stay eventually. He wanted me to know that I could consider the lake house my home if that was something I wanted. Wow. I wanted that. I so wanted that, but that was something Claire and I had to decide together. My little sister was never far from my mind and always always in my heart.
My days were filled with Reds and the rest of time I was at the compound. It became easy for me to be there. I was getting to know the brothers and their women and they were getting to know me. Slowly. I still kept to myself a lot but slowly I felt myself being drawn in. Prosper and I played music together in the evenings a lot and gradually I became a part of the firelight and laughter that I had feared as a child. Sometimes I would help Jules cook. Pinky and I decided to start a garden. Nice.
Things were good, but there was much I had left unsettled back in Willows Point and I knew that I would have to face it eventually. Claire and I were going to plan what came next. It had always been Claire and me planning what came next and this brief parting made no difference.
So my life was in a holding pattern.
Diego. He was gone when I had gotten back on some MC business. He had called me every day and just checked in.
So our calls basically went like this.
“Hey Babe.”
“Hey.”
“How’s it going?”
“Pretty good. You?”
“Pretty good is not an answer babe.”
“Oh.”
“So, I’m gonna ask you again. How’s it going?”
“Not bad.”
“Babe.”
He’d ask me a few questions about my day, but never divulged much himself so at times the conversation felt stilted and forced. I tried not to think too much of it. Really, our relationship thus far had been based on sex and arguing. Or so it seemed. I wasn’t sure where Diego fit in my life or if he fit in my life or if I fit in his.
And I gave Ellie some thought.
I did.
I thought a lot about Diego’s relationship with her. I had been around the club long enough to know the difference between the old ladies, the girlfriends, and the whores. Most times the guys would have all three. Some even had the added fourth. A wife had home with kids. Fidelity was a not in the Badass Biker Dictionary. Except maybe for Crow, and who knows what that was about.
I stayed away from the girl posse. Despite everything, or maybe because of everything, I was still a watcher. When it came right down to it, I really honestly and truly didn’t know what really had gone on between Diego and Ellie. Sure, Diego had denied anything serious between the two. But I wasn’t stupid, and neither was Ellie, crazy mean maybe, but she was no dummy. Ellie didn’t seem like the type who would have stuck around if she hadn’t felt there was some there there.
I just didn’t trust that she would just walk away from Diego or from what she thought was going to be the life of an old lady. The way some women dreamt of a house, a husband and a minivan full of kids, these biker chicks dreamt of wearing property patches and filling in the back seat of a Harley.
She was gone. For now. But I had no doubt. Not one shred of doubt that we hadn’t seen the last of the train wreck that was Ellie. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t in the path of her oncoming.
I didn’t talk about it, didn’t feel the need to share, and tried not to think about it, but the Winston sisters had survived a lot. A lot. Claire and I, honestly we had barely survived what it took to grow up healthy and whole in a house headed by Jack Winston. Sitting here now, in our safe place, I was mad at myself for not seeking Prosper out earlier.
The years after my mother died hadn’t been pretty. Not by a long stretch. Despite the promise that Prosper had made to my mother, he should not have brought us back to my father. Jack just didn’t have it in him to be the sole caretaker of two little girls. Jack’s version of “doing what the good daddies do” basically meant instead of going out to drink, he stayed at home to drink. Sometimes I had found myself furious with my mother. Had she really been that naïve about the kind of man my father was? She never ever should have made Prosper promise not to separate us from Jack. In doing so, she had sentenced Claire and me to a life I couldn’t imagine that she would have wanted for us.
Nobody had ever touched us. Jack had kept us safe in that way. Our house was a safe place to be in that way. Even when his friends came over. The rough big loud shadow people. They stayed outside. “Not even to piss.” I heard him say once. “You don�
�t go in that house where Maggie’s babies are, not even to piss.”
Maggie’s babies. Not his. Maggie’s. Except for the fact that Claire and I had the exact shade of his deep violet blue eyes and shared his long thin nose, I had often felt such a disconnect from our father that I doubted his parentage. I had spent a lot of time that summer at the lake house searching Prosper’s face hoping to find some resemblance to us. It didn’t escape me that Prosper was about as far as you could get from the perfect father figure ideal, but he would have been better than Jack. By a lot. At eight years old I knew that. At eight.
So because our father basically sucked, our only hope had been me. Sure, I could have used that address that Prosper had given us years ago. But, the straights never seemed dire enough. Sure, I was cooking and cleaning and getting Claire and I off to school as far back as I remembered, but oddly enough, there always was enough money to get us through.
Getting Jack to remember to pay the bills though, that was another matter. After having the electricity shut off twice, I knew I had to step up. So at the tender age of ten years old, while other kids were playing with dolls and going to birthday parties, I was teaching myself how to manage the household finances. I would put together little envelopes once a month with amount dues on them. Then my dad would fill the envelopes with cash and I would go to Pete’s Variety where, for an extra three dollars, you could pay your utility and cables bills.
Our dad never once made me worry about not having enough money. Although he was gone sometime, he never seemed to work at anything steady and we paid for everything in cash. Everything. Doctors, dentists, and one trip to the emergency room when I fell out of a tree and broke my arm were all paid for in cash.
My father also kept two guns in the house and they were both loaded. One he placed in the drawer by his bed and the other was, of all places taped behind the toilet. Claire and I knew never ever to touch them. Knowing they were there never made us feel safe. They had made us feel the very opposite of safe.
Game Changer (Hell's Saints Motorcycle Club) Page 15
