Of course, Kellen has a million and one questions for me after that. I try to answer the majority of them the best I can, without going into details I’m sure Nate will not appreciate me sharing. For one, I’m not going to drop the bomb Nate’s mom, Kellen’s grandma, is now living only twenty minutes away. I won’t do this until I’m sure Nate’s willing to make the effort to rebuild any type of relationship with her. Next off, I have no idea whether Nate wants Kellen to know about the trust Verity has left for him. How do you explain to an almost nine-year-old that your mother looks like she’s trying to pay penance by leaving you a fuck ton of money disappearing into the unknown? The answer is, you don’t.
Nate ordered pizzas, when they’re delivered we sit around the dining table listening to Kellen’s excited chatter about his party the next day and all the friends he has coming. I’m not made aware until later that night, after Nate has enacted his version of punishment, that Kellen hasn’t had a birthday party before. The thought makes me feel incredibly sad and incredibly guilty at the same time. Verity might not be the best mother. Okay, she has been a shit mother, but one thing Verity is well versed in is birthday parties. We’ve had enough of our own that surely she could have put together something at, least once, for Kellen. If planning a circus of a party like ours had been was too much, and honestly it was too much; something small with a few friends, a cake, and some gifts shouldn’t have been that difficult for her to manage.
I vowed to myself that I will make sure I take over the party planning next year. I’m going to make it my mission to organise the tenth birthday party to end all tenth birthday parties.
The guilt I feel comes from the fact Priss has been the one to take charge of insuring Kellen has a fantastic, in a way, first birthday party. It should have been me. I should have been here to do it. Truthfully, I don’t think if I’d been here I would have been good for anyone, certainly not Kellen.
I needed the time away to face the unmistakable truths that couldn’t be changed. I needed to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t be the only one to give Nate children. Most of all, I needed to decide whether I could live with everything I came face-to-face with. The answer, after all that time away lost in my thoughts, missing Nate with a passion that would forever go unrivalled, and mourning the loss of the opportunity to get to know my newly discovered nephew, is an unequivocal, yes. Yes, I can live with what is now firmly planted in the past where it belongs.
Dreams die. The thing is, new ones are continuously taking their place. I still dream of a life with Nate. Only now, it includes Kellen; and that makes it all the more special. I dream of having Nate’s children; now, they will have an older brother that will protect them fiercely. I dream of finding my place in this world, being able to settle down, and not in a way that I’m “settling.” No. Settling down, as in putting down roots. Establishing myself somewhere that I don’t have to try to make a home. I dream that I stop floating.
Wouldn’t you know it? Coming up on the end of my first thirty years of life, I do just that. Anchored to Nate by everything I feel for him, and in return his feelings for me and Kellen’s easy love and acceptance. My girls welcoming me back with open arms like I’ve never left, and my newest friend Tank’s nod of approval at my loss of baggage. I find my home. In doing so I find myself no longer cast adrift. I’m not watching those around me live while I’m merely existing. I stop floating altogether.
The future isn’t set in stone with paths laid out for everyone to follow. There is no fortune-teller to read palms, telling us what lies ahead. Your guess is as good as mine, and surprisingly, I’m OKAY with that. Where previously I’ve planned my life meticulously, limited the connections I make for fear that I will feel tied down before my time to people I don’t want to be tied to. I embrace life’s uncertainty. I trust that with Nate and Kellen, we will get through anything. Regardless of what every day holds, and trust me, the days that follow are filled with so many ups and downs I occasionally feel dizzy with it. As long as I get to kiss Kellen’s head at night, hear him tell me he loves me most, and climb into bed with Nate at night; I’m more that fucking happy with that.
Kellen’s birthday party goes off without a hitch. Priss has done such a fantastic job. The parents of some of the kids in Kellen’s class ask if she’s a party planner, and whether she will be able to organise their child’s next birthday. Priss just laughs good-naturedly shaking her head, saying no she’s actually an accountant, and this is simply a favour for a friend.
Not having seen Priss for almost four months, I recognise something noticeably different about her as soon as I look in her eyes. Her ability to remain positive, upbeat, and mostly unaffected by her less than desirable circumstances is gone. It looks to me like the weight of the world has finally settled on my friend’s slim shoulders.
Tilly took me aside about a week after the party, filling me in on the events that transpired while I was gone, shocking the shit out of me. Tank and Priss have gone through periods of non-communication before, so that isn’t what shocks me. The longest up until now, is the five months Priss refused to speak to him after the hideous incident at Rough Shod. Nate confided in me about it while I was recuperating from my gunshot wound.
This is different though. There are no glares handed out by Priss. No looks of remorse from Tank, as is the normal progression when it comes to their falling-outs. There is only sadness so deep, it’s turned into avoidance on Priss’s part. Tank, the only way to describe how he looks is to say he appears to be a version of tortured determination. The man is clearly suffering with whatever decision he’s made, and it shows.
I feel horrible for Tilly. The poor girl is caught in the middle and has no idea how to cope with it. Apparently, Tank’s involvement with Tilly is no different than it was before he went AWOL for weeks. If anything he’s put in extra effort to make up for the time he was gone. The fact he isn’t around in the evenings to help with homework or projects, anymore, isn’t going unfelt by Tilly. Tank is somewhat of a father figure to her. Him being absent; changing the dynamics of their relationship is taking its toll on her.
Prospects are now back to taking care of any manual labour jobs Priss needs help with. Tank went as far as to hand over the responsibility of organising them to Saint. Saint is twenty-one-year-old, Devil’s Spawn fully patched member that resembles a freaking Calvin Klein underwear model not a biker. By the look on Tilly’s face when she’s describing the Grade A chunk of man meat, she’s not heartbroken that he’s the one in charge of overseeing projects now.
Another interesting development is that during Tilly’s animated recount of all things Saint, of which there were many, Glock’s face turns an alarming shade of red. Whatever Tilly says has him to taking off minutes later, and returning after more than an hour with a set of bloody knuckles, dishevelled, and sweating like a stuck pig. Hmmm. No kidding. That is a very interesting reaction. I don’t bother to asking Tilly about why Glock looks like he’s about to blow a gasket, or in this case already had. She seems oblivious to his feelings for her. I’m sure as shit not getting pulled into some private battle that may, or may not, end in Tank killing either of them if they lay hands on Tilly. Thinking on it. There’s really no maybe about it. Tank will unquestionably dismember and dispose of the body that belongs to the first guy that ends up as Tilly’s boyfriend.
Secretly, I’m rooting for Glock. It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s closer to her sixteen years, at his nineteen nearly twenty. It also has little to do with the fact the man/boy; I get confused on how to define him. He’s certainly not the gangly teenager with acne and limbs like octopus tentacles. He’s not quite a fully matured man yet, so it’s confusing on how I should describe him. Being hot as sin doesn’t hurt his standings with me, either. The reason Glock’s my number one contender for a place in Tilly’s heart is because he looks in need of the softness she can provide. Tilly is all sweet and softness. If she was candy, she’d be fudge; the same consistency from th
e outside all the way through to the centre. My guess is Glock worked that out within seconds of being in her presence and knows when he’s found a good thing. I wish them the best of luck. They’re going to need it with Tank around as chaperone.
Everything seems to be falling into place. I know, I know, famous last words, and all. I just choose to ignore any nagging suspicion that shit isn’t as it’s portrayed. Sometimes you just have to stick your head in the sand and live for a change.
Within a week of getting back to Blackwater, Reaper forgave me for taking off with no notice, and gave me my job back. I was part-time these days, though.
Reaper knows I’m in the process of setting up my online gallery with Clinton as my PA. It will take up time I won’t have to devote to Skin Fusion, so he either has to accept my reduced hours or find someone else. Knowing that he doesn’t want to do that, gives me the leverage I need to get his approval. On top of that, Adelyn has been given my studio apartment above the shop. As soon as Nate called informing Reaper I wouldn’t need it anymore, Ade was moved in, and the deal about my living situation was sealed.
Adelyn had been renting a cottage, about ten minutes away from work, but for some strange reason on hearing about the vacancy above the shop. Boss and Diesel blew into town relocating all her stuff, commanding she stay where they put her. My love and admiration of Ade grew exponentially on that day. It’s kind of sick and twisted why that love grew, but it is what it is.
I’m manning the front counter when Boss and Diesel saunter through the front door. I say saunter because even twelve years my senior, these two fine specimens of all male hotness can walk with a swag most men never develop. Boss’s booming voice rings out immediately startling me, even though I saw him come in.
“Adelyn Pippa London, get your ass out here NOW!” Wow. Ade is in deep shit by the sounds of it. Diesel stands next to his president and best friend with a scowl on his face that can, I’m almost sure, freeze hellfire.
Standing, and excusing herself politely from her current client, Ade makes her way down the walkway between stations. She slaps a smirking tongue, poking Toby in the back of the head, rounding the desk, standing directly in front of the enormously imposing Boss. Looking up. Way up. Boss is a good foot and a bit taller than Ade. She flutters her eyelashes and smiles sweetly at him. Sometime between Boss walking in and Ade making her way to him, Reaper shows up, leaning in the doorway between his office and the shop floor with a dangerous look masking his features. No idea what that’s about. It doesn’t surprise me though. The guys around here are seriously fucking crazy, they harbour irrational ideals, have mood swings the like not even women in the throes of PMS suffer from. Occasionally. Okay more than occasionally, they also display their latent homicidal tendencies.
Clenching his jaw Boss grabs Ade’s upper arm and leans into her. If he hadn’t been so absorbed by his own anger, Boss would have seen the look of fury cross Ade’s face. Possibly avoiding what happens next. I’m glad that he doesn’t notice, though. It’s awesome for its entertainment value alone.
“Are you out of your fuckin mind, Adelyn? When I fuckin told you to call us if anythin odd started happenin, I fuckin meant it. I have to find out from some dumb as fuck prospect you got troubles, and you don’t have the fuckin decency to call me or Diesel your fuckin self? I’m not playin with you, little girl.” At that Ade flips her bitch switch. Rightly so.
In a sequence of moves straight out of a movie, Ade grabs the wrist holding her arm. She puts pressure on the tendon there, effectively making Boss loosen his grip. Bringing her knee up she connects with Boss’s junk, HARD. Not done completely humiliating him, she whirls behind him kicking the back of his right knee forward, bringing him to the floor, knees first. Jesus Christ. I so have to get her to teach me that shit sometime. That is EPIC.
Pinning the same hand that gripped her arm behind him, and using both of her stiletto booted feet to stand on his calves, Ade leans into Boss, much the same way he had with her and says, “Now that’s better, isn’t it?” Looking over to Diesel, nodding her head, she greets the now shocked vice president. “Howdy my brother from another mother. How goes it?”
It needs to be noted; Diesel does nothing to help Boss. After Ade’s greeting he looks like he’s about to bust out in fits of laughter, too. He hides it well, or he thinks he does. Diesel is beet red with the effort to contain himself. He is just lucky Boss’s back is to him, or he’d be knocked out in seconds. Reaper appears to be slightly in awe of the tiny tattooed dynamite in our midst. His face morphed immediately from amusement to rage on seeing the handprint Boss left on her upper arm. I shake my head at him to signal he should leave it, for now. There will be time later. I’m just glad that he backs down, for once. It doesn’t happen often. In fact this is one for the record books, I believe.
Going back to Boss, Ade asks, “If I let you up, are you going to be nice, and talk about this shit like the fucking adult you are, or are you going to continue to be a major fucking asshole, and force me to take it out on your balls again?” Grunting his agreement, Ade released him.
In less than a second Boss is up. He has her pressed tightly into his chest, in a bear hug to end all bear hugs.
“Fuck me, Adey Baby. You scared the shit outta me. That fuckwit over there too, if he can stop his fuckin laughin long enough to tell you the same. Green told me you got some deliveries last week, and you never said a fuckin thing to anyone. What’s that shit about?”
The rest of the conversation isn’t for our ears, so Reaper pulls Toby and I, along with both Ade and Toby’s clients, into the break room telling us to stay put. Needless to say, when a furious Reaper tells you to stay put, you do just that. You don’t even think about questioning it either. Anyway, everything turned out fine, as far as I know. Ade and Boss kissed, platonically, and made up. Reaper got over his snit about the handprint approximately, NEVER, and life went on as usual. Better yet, depending on how you look at it, Devil’s Spawn finally found out why the Satan’s Sons were so hell bent on revenge and using any means necessary to get it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nate
Is it possible for your cock to drop off from extreme overuse? If it is, I’m one fuck away from mine detaching itself and running away to safety. True story.
Leaving my exhausted, finally sated woman in bed fast asleep, I jump in a quick shower and dress quietly, so I don’t wake her. Slipping my cut over my shoulders, pocketing my keys, wallet, phone, and miscellaneous shit that pisses Ronnie off to have to remove from my pockets, I straddle the only other lady in my life and take off for the clubhouse.
This morning is an impromptu Church meeting. We very rarely deviate from the Wednesday afternoon Church sessions that are our norm. The only times we get called in twice in one week is when there are extenuating circumstances that cancelled Wednesday’s usual meet. This has happened precisely twice in club history. Or, like today there’s news that can’t be postponed.
The ride is short, and considering that we’re moving into winter I’m fucking glad for it. I would much rather have my woman wrapped around me in bed than freezing my balls off in the biting cold I’m riding through, at the moment. It’ll be time to put the bike in for the winter when I’m around town soon. I’ll always ride when I’ve got club business to take care of, but if I’m local I’ll take my truck. No use in having to get my balls amputated due to frostbite is there?
Seven months on, and I can’t get enough of Ronnie. Whether it’s cooking in our kitchen for Kellen or painting on the back porch, so when I get home I have the pleasure of washing every speck of paint off her beautiful body. Even watching TV together at night, or being inside her tight, wet pussy, it’s never enough. I don’t think it ever will be. At least I fucking hope it’s not.
Aside from bickering like a fucking old married people, most days run smoothly, and we work well as a team to raise our boy. To be honest, Ronnie’s fucking hot when she’s riled up. Don’t tell her this, but I might possibl
y start shit unnecessarily, just to see her sexy side emerge when she’s pissed. That’s just a maybe, though.
Kellen settled into having Ronnie live with us like a duck takes to water. My boy almost abandoned me completely, for the first few months after she came back, preferring to do everything with Ronnie. Even if it was just sitting watching her paint, he became her shadow. Half the time I think it was to make sure she was real and not an apparition. That she wasn’t going to randomly take off while his back was turned. When he saw her shit was unpacked, washing in the laundry room, and he watched her scheduling time off to take him to football practice, he calmed his ass down and just enjoyed being with her.
Everyone else in our closest circle of friends has plenty of shit to keep them busy, and we’re no different. Kendall and Cage have Lexi, who’s seven now, and Wheels, who is just as his name says, Hell on Wheels, at seventeen months. They’re happy, and planning baby number two or three, if you include Miss Lexi. It’s like Cage is trying to get that shit done as fast as humanly possible, too.
Steel and Lou welcomed Caleb William Andrews, or Cal as we’ve taken to calling him, four months ago as only Lou could. Delivering their son in front of Taco Bell, in peak hour traffic, with a dozen or so bikers standing watch was perfectly Lou type drama. I have to admit, we could have done without being called “chrome sucking, dickless, vagina whores,” but whatever helped her through it.
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