just keep telling myself that.
"Can I ask why they call him Crunch?" I followed April to the kitchen, where she was chopping vegetables. She handed me a knife and a cutting board.
"Here," she said. "This is about the only thing I can do in the kitchen, is chop stuff up. Oh, Crunch's nickname is because he's a numbers guy. He's always done accounting stuff. Number cruncher, you know."
"A biker accountant?" It seemed funny to me.
April slid her knife blade down the length of a cucumber. "Oh, yeah, honey," she said. "Back in the day, Crunch used to do accounting for a couple of businesses. Totally self-taught. Course, those businesses weren't completely on the up and up, you know?"
"Oh, I see."
"And then he made a few bad choices, hacking into places, took money from one of the businesses," she said. "Of course, the guy was a real asshole, deserved to have the money stolen. But Crunch, he got lucky, got picked up on a federal charge before the guy he was working for took him out."
"Oh," I said. I didn't really know what else to say. This wasn't exactly regular dinner conversation.
"So what about Axe, then?" I asked. "You guys called him Axe. What does that mean?"
"Axe is Axe because of who he is. Sniper, you know? Couldn’t exactly call him ‘gun’. He's the Sergeant-at-Arms for the club."
"I don't know what that means." I didn't know what any of this stuff meant, honestly. I'd been around military guys, was used to all that lingo, but I didn't know what any of this meant in the context of a biker club. I mean, I'd been around plenty of guys who rode motorcycles, but none of it was like this.
I was curious, but also afraid to ask many questions. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to know all that stuff about Cade. I was equal parts drawn to it and repulsed by it. Of course, that was true about Cade, too.
"That's right," she said. "I forget when I'm talking to civilians." Civilian. That was a word I wasn't quite used to being called, even after a year out of the military. "Axe is the sergeant-at-arms. He's the President's right hand man, makes sure everything's kosher. He enforces things."
"Enforces," I said. "You mean, enforces when people get out of line?" I didn't want to say kills, but that's the distinct impression I was getting.
She nodded. "He used to be a Marine. Military types make good club members."
Yes, I could see the appeal of leaving an organization with a strong leadership hierarchy to go into a similar one. So Cade had been a Marine sniper, and now he was killing people for a gang of criminals. Jesus.
Cade was definitely not the guy I knew back in high school. The sniper part was one thing - hell, I'd deployed with the Marines, known a few snipers, all good guys. But this biker bullshit? I didn't need to mess with that, even if April and MacKenzie and Crunch seemed like a nice normal family.
Even if it seemed like there was a hint of the Cade I used to know, the one I used to love, lurking underneath the battered and beaten exterior.
He was a criminal now.
A killer.
I heard the screen door swing open, and MacKenzie clomped across the kitchen floor toward her mother. "Momma," she said. "We saw the water, and there were frogs and I saw the horses and it was really cold water. Look, my pants are all wet."
April looked down at her. "So they are. Let's go get you changed. Stan, I cut up all the stuff and it's on the counter. Afraid I can't do much more. I'm pretty useless beyond that."
"That's perfect. I'll take care of the rest," Stan said. "I think Mac had a good bit of fun out there."
Stan turned toward me. "I'm glad you came for dinner, June."
"So am I," I said. It was true. I liked being here. I liked April, and MacKenzie, and Stan. "It's nice of you to get everything together, cook like this."
Stan threw potato chunks in a pan and filled it with water. "You have no idea," he said. "This house has been empty for a while, June. It's nice to have people here to fill in."
"I bet you're glad to have Cade home, too, huh?" I asked.
"I'm glad he's here. No matter what the outside circumstances are."
I was about to ask what exactly the circumstances were, but Crunch walked into the kitchen. "Hey June," he said.
I smiled. "Long time no see."
"I was just in the back doing a few things online," he said. "Is Axe still out?"
"Yeah," Stan said. "Might be a little while. He was riding out to check on the cattle. He knows what time dinner is, though. He'll make it back for that, that's for sure. Even when he was a kid, he could be gone all day, but dinner? Like clockwork, he'd figure out how to get home. Of course, that's when it was his mother's cooking, and not mine."
"Oh, I bet your cooking is just fine," I said. "Now, your coffee, on the other hand, that's a different story."
"Hey, I warned you I make a mean cup of coffee."
"Yes, emphasis on mean,” I said, but I smiled.
“Now, speaking of coffee,” Stan said. “Why don’t you ladies grab a cup - or there’s some tea right over there - and go sit out on the porch? Joe and I can take care of the cooking.”
“Joe?” I asked.
“That’s me,” Crunch said.
“You just don’t want me near the kitchen,” April said.
“Joe has told me some stories.” Stan reached into the cupboard for a bowl.
“God, you start one major kitchen fire, and you never live it down, do you?” April asked.
“No, and you never will, either, doll,” Crunch said. “We’ve got this covered.”
“All right, all right,” April said. “You don’t have to tell me twice to not do work.” She held up her hands. “Looks like we’re free to hang out outside. Doesn’t hurt my feelings at all.”
“Sounds good to me, too,” I said. We took MacKenzie outside, and sat silently, watching her run up and down the porch steps and into the yard, finding stones and flowers and bringing them back one at a time to her mother, before sitting down to decorate Bailey's collar with dandelions.
"So do you like being part of the biker club, then?" I asked. I wasn't sure how to ask what I wanted to ask, wasn't sure if it was rude.
No, scratch that. I was sure it was rude. What I wanted to ask was how the hell she did it, marrying a man who was a criminal, having a kid with him, following him to Colorado on the run from whatever the hell trouble they were in. I just didn't understand it.
I would never do something like that, I thought. I just couldn't see myself following someone like that anywhere. Then I had the nagging thought that maybe I just didn't love anyone that much.
"Yeah," April said. "I know it's weird from the outside. Trust me, I know. I used to have more civilian friends than biker ones, but that changed over the years. But I remember when I was mostly friends with civilians, how they looked at me when I went to hang out at the club on the weekends. They thought I was getting, well, you know - " April leaned forward in her chair, glancing at MacKenzie playing happily in the grass before she lowered her voice.
"They thought I was getting raped or gang banged or something. I mean, something must be wrong with me or I must be into some kind of kinky shit if I was hanging around a bunch of bikers. Don't get me wrong. I was wild. But after a while, it became like my family. Then I met Crunch, and it was my family. He was my family."
"I don't think many people understand it," I said. I sure didn't. The only thing I really knew about outlaw bikers was what I'd seen on television. Of course, now that I thought about it, there were rumors about a couple of the enlisted guys who worked for me during deployment, a couple of the corpsmen- that they were hang arounds with a biker gang. I didn't know what that meant at the time, and I didn't want to know.
"No," April said. "Most people don't want to understand, either."
"Do you ever get tired of it, though?"
April didn't answer right away, rocking back and forth in her chair for a bit before she opened her mouth. “The truth?” she asked. “Yeah, of course I get tire
d of it. We didn’t have a kid when Crunch and I were first together. It was just the two of us. I was a lot more okay with risk-taking back then, you know? But now, MacKenzie's around. I don't want this kind of life for her."
“That makes sense,” I said. I could understand the part about risk-taking. Despite everything I told myself about wanting to settle down, there was still a big part of me that liked an adrenaline rush, the feeling of being on edge. It's one of the things that drew me to the military.
“Don’t get me wrong,” April said. “We love the club. They gave Crunch a place after he went to the Pen. Tank saw to that. There aren’t a lot of employers that are going to want you after you’ve been to the Pen for embezzlement, you know. Even criminal ones. So, we’re very grateful for that.”
I nodded. "Of course."
"It's just that Joe and I talk about whether we want MacKenzie to grow up in this, find a biker like her old man." She paused, looking at me. “I’d rather have MacKenzie grow up to do something with herself, be a doctor like you.”
I laughed nervously. If only she knew. “I’m not a doctor anymore. I gave up all of that, came back home. So you probably don’t want her to be like me, actually, wasting her education.”
“No,” April said, adamantly. “I do want her to be like you. You had a choice, at least - to come home or stay and do what you were doing. I want Mac to have a choice. It’s a choice I never had growing up. My choices were to strip or be a cashier at the grocery store. I chose stripping." She laughed, the sound bitter.
“What does Crunch think about it?” I asked.
April exhaled. “He would never say anything bad about the club. And -" She held her hand up. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying anything bad about Inferno, either. But he’s talked about me and Mac going somewhere else for a little while.”
I nodded. “I can understand wanting to get away.”
April opened her mouth to say something else, but then I heard MacKenzie squeal.
“Look!” MacKenzie yelled. “Uncle Axe is on a horse!”
I looked up to see Cade riding across the field atop a lathered Bay-colored horse, heading the barn. Sitting tall in the saddle, wearing his cowboy hat and boots, he looked like something out of an old western. Behind him, the setting sun painted the sky and landscape a rainbow of pinks and reds. A memory of us riding together flashed in my mind's eye, and I couldn't shake it, the feeling of deja vu. I felt the familiar feeling of arousal rush through me, just watching him ride.
"Can I ride a horse while I'm here?" MacKenzie asked. Her voice shook me out of my head, and I cleared my throat.
"Of course, honey," I said. "I'm sure Mr. Austin will let you get up on one of the horses." I looked over to where Cade had been, but he was gone, already inside the barn. I turned toward MacKenzie. "You just tell Mr. Austin you want to ride a horse. I think he'll like that."
“He looks real good on the back of that horse, doesn’t he?” April stood beside me, and I could feel her gaze on my face.
“All guys look good on the back of a horse,” I said, shrugging, hoping the answer sounded more casual and non-committal than I felt.
“I don't think so. It’s kind of like a motorcycle,” she said. “Only certain men are meant to ride them.”
I was quiet. I didn’t need to think any more about Cade and what he did or didn't look good riding. A few minutes later, when he came walking across the field, taking it in long strides, I had to remind myself again that he wasn't the kid I used to know, the one who would take me up in the hills riding, away from everyone and everything.
“Evening, ladies,” he said as he walked up the porch steps.
“Uncle Axe!” MacKenzie ran over to him, her blonde pigtails bouncing. “Will you let me ride a horse, just like you?”
Cade bent down. “Sure thing, kiddo. How about tomorrow morning? We’ll get you up in the saddle.”
“Do I get boots and everything?”
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “I think sneakers may have to do for now. We’ll have to look at getting boots for you.”
"Hey MacKenzie," April said, looking at me meaningfully. "I have something inside for you."
"What? Is it a present?" MacKenzie bounced off, trailing behind her mother.
I met Cade's gaze, my heart skipping a beat as I took him in, standing there in his jeans, cowboy hat tilted down over his forehead. He looked so much like how I remembered him. So much like the man I thought he'd become.
"Junebug," he said. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"I didn't expect to come here."
"June, I - " he started. "About the other night, I -"
I shrugged. "You were drunk."
"I was stupid," he said, his voice low. "Coming over there like that. I didn't mean - I didn't think you were going to just - "
"Screw you because you showed up, drunk, on my front porch?"
"Something like that," he said. He grinned wickedly. "I mean, a guy can hope."
I opened my mouth to say something, but Stan appeared in the doorway. "Everything look okay with the cattle?” he asked.
“Yeah, pop,” Cade said. "I noticed a couple of calves that were still slick though, I'll need to head back and separate them to get brands on them."
“Good,” Stan said. “Cade, why don’t you come in and clean up. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
Dinner was a rambunctious event, with lots of laughter and joking. After it was finished and MacKenzie was in bed, we sat around the table. I sipped slowly at a glass of wine, my stomach full. Despite my misgivings about coming here, I was glad I came.
April peered closely at the photos hanging on the wall, of Cade during high school. “Look at you, Axe,” she said. “You were a football stud, huh?”
"First Team All-State Linebacker, baby,” he said, grinning. He gulped down his iced tea and looked over at me. “I was hot shit back then, wasn’t I?” he asked, winking at me.
“You were definitely something,” I said. “I don’t know if hot shit is the right term.”
“Whatever,” Cade said. “Captain of the football team? All the ladies wanted me.”
Stan laughed. “Never had a problem with self-esteem, this one,” he said.
“No kidding,” I said. “He was always a cocky little shit.”
“Hand me that photo there, April,” Stan said, taking it in his hands and displaying it to everyone. “This picture is of my son when he was playing fullback his sophomore year in high school. West Bend players had to play on both offense and defense, real Iron Man football. Cade was the fullback and a linebacker."
“Dad used to love to brag on me,” Cade said.
Crunch laughed. “I want to see the bad prom photos.”
“Were you a cheerleader, June?” April asked.
I laughed, choking on my wine. “God, no,” I said.
“June wasn’t the cheerleader type,” Cade said, looking at me. “She was more into all the alternative stuff. Grunge type. Moody.”
“I was not moody,” I protested.
“Really?” Cade asked. “As I remember it, you wore black for most of sophomore year.”
“I remember you didn’t seem to mind it too much back then,” I said.
He held up his hands. “I didn’t mind it at all. Your mom was the one who told you she wouldn't buy you any more clothes unless they were neon.”
I laughed. “She was so upset about the black nail polish all the time.”
“You were good for Cade, though,” Stan said. I could see Cade squirm uncomfortably in his chair. “Even if you wore black all the time.”
“Is your family around here, June?” April asked.
Everything got quiet, and it was like all the air was sucked out of the room. Stan and Cade exchanged knowing looks.
“Did I say something wrong?” April asked. "Sorry. I have a tendency to poke my nose in places it doesn't belong."
“You’re fine,” I said. “It’s not some
big secret.”
“June, we don’t need to talk about it,” Stan started, and I interrupted him.
“Really, it’s fine, Mr. Austin,” I said. “It was years ago.” April looked embarrassed, and I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. One thing I hated about coming back home was that it was like stepping back in time. People assumed I felt the same as
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