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Walk the Line (Kings of Chaos Book 5)

Page 18

by Shyla Colt


  “You raise a little con artist, B?”

  “I think she prefers the word persuasive.”

  “It’d be doing him a favor. I mean. The joy Disney would bring to his life is immeasurable. He can’t call himself a Californian until he sees the mouse house at least once.”

  “You’re so kind worrying about others like that,” B says patting her shoulder.

  We’re sprawled around the living room with two pizzas, a two-liter of cola, and horror movies. She’s slightly jet lagged from the trip, and we’re tired from working all week. I had a two day run on top of that, so I’m done in. Plenty of men use Meth or other tactics to keep up. I’ve never been about that. I see what drugs can do to a person. If it’s not a little grass, I’ll pass. I like to be in control of my faculties.

  “J?” Whitney glances at me with a face so like her mothers.

  “If it’ll make me a real Californian I guess I need to do it.”

  Whitney’s face lights up as she jumps off the couch and does a little dance.

  “Okay, Mom, I’m hitting the hay, the time difference is messing with me, and I want to rest up for Disneyland.”

  “Sweet dreams, Baby.”

  “Night, Whit.”

  “Night, J.” She pauses halfway to her room. “Thanks.”

  She rushes off, and I turn to B for an explanation.

  “She likes you.”

  “That’s good right?”

  “It is. You’re the first new man in her life since her father left.”

  “Shit, I didn’t even think about that. Should I stay at the clubhouse?”

  “No, she needs to get used to seeing us together. We talked about it before she came here.”

  I nod. “What did she say?”

  “She wants to get to know you. Right now you’re the hot younger guy her mother is living with.”

  “I can handle that title.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Course you can. She seems to think our relationship makes me some kind of fox.”

  “You are, but that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with genes. I’m just the lucky bastard who managed to grab you before anyone else did.”

  “Are you really going to let her con you into Disneyland?”

  “Con indicates I’m being fleeced. I know exactly what I’m doing and why. She’s important to you, which makes her important to me.” I shrug it’s simple. Her pack is my pack. The same way mine is hers, and I take care of my own.

  “It’s that simple?”

  “Most things are once you know what you want.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. You choose based on what means the most to you.”

  “And what’s that for you?”

  “The club and you.”

  “Jagger.”

  “It’s simple to decide, but complicated to maintain and balance. You see both of you come with stipulations, needs, and challenges. Because it’s not easy to keep you or them happy all the time. It takes hard work and dedication and sacrifice.”

  “Why?” she whispers.

  “I do it because you belong to me. You’re mine, B. And them? They’re the family I’ve chosen for myself. My life revolves around those two things. Everything I do can be tied to that because it’s where my loyalty and what’s left of my heart lies.” It’s not an I love you. Her lips tremble, and her eyes dilate. She hears me just the same. “So I’ll go to Disneyland, I’ll play nice with the locals, and get to know Whitney better because she’s yours which make her my kid too.” Tears glisten in her eyes. “You’re not going to cry. You’re going to accept everything you should’ve been getting from the start. Nod if you understand me.”

  She bobs her head, and I lean in and brush her lips against mine. “We’re already a family, B. It’s just figuring out what that’s going to look and feel like for us. When I told you I wasn’t going to let you go, I meant that. Every day we take another step making it official. I know you got a big brain, B, don’t get lost in it.”

  At any given time her brain is jammed full of crap, like a computer with too many windows open at once. Then she gets caught on one thought, and the panic floods in. I’ve watched her tackle her panic attacks little by little over the months, with sheer will, and counseling. I’ve never thought much of counselors. Mostly because they could affect placement. I spent my youth learning how to pretend to give them what they wanted so I could stay at my home. Because you never knew if the next one would end up being even worse.

  “I hear you.”

  “Good, now how about we go to the room, and I help you relax?” I wink as she smiles.

  “No, she’ll hear us.”

  “Guess you’d better be quiet then.” I stand and toss her over my shoulder. I smack her ass. She buries her face in my back to muffle her squeal, and I chuckle as I turn off the television and carry her to our room.

  ***

  I feel like I’ve stepped onto an alien planet. Everything is clean. The air smells sweet. Not like regular fresh air, but literally as if cotton candy has been added to the atmosphere. Everywhere I look, I see smiling faces and families. I’m not sure if I’m impressed, or creeped the hell out. I glance over at the girls, and they’re all but glowing as they grin at one another. I can endure this for them.

  “Where to first?” I ask.

  “Disneyland Railroad. That way you can get an overview,” Whitney says.

  “You’re our tour guide for the day, so I’ll let you lead the way.” I’m amused by her excitement. The minute we stepped foot in the park that cool act vanished.

  “Oh no, first we have to get your button at guest services.”

  “A button for what?” I ask.

  “Your first time at DL button.”

  I glance down at B. “Is the kid serious right now?”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s tradition.” She winks.

  “Well hell, don’t let me stop tradition.” It feels weird to be out without my cut, but colors don’t fly here. So I’m in a black Metallica shirt and jeans. Whitney beams up at me, and I find the space in my heart expanding to fit her in beside her mother. The kid lost life as she knew it and her father in one day. I can never replace him, but I can be a substitute eventually.

  Twenty-minutes, a button, and a sticker later, I’m sitting on the train and getting a run down from an incredibly bubbly mini me of B. She moves her hands as she explains when things were built and hidden Easter eggs or should I say Mickeys? I can feel the pride rolling off B. She’s raised a good kid. Not an easy feat in this day and age.

  We exit the train, and she makes a beeline for the Indiana Jones Adventure.

  “Kid, you don’t have to cater to me on this trip.”

  “Oh, I’ve been tons of times. My favorite is showing new people around. I like experiencing it for the first time through their eyes.” She shrugs.

  I’ll never let it show, but the ten-year-old boy inside of me is kind of stoked. Who didn’t want to be Indiana Jones growing up? It’s unreal. One minute I was at an amusement park, and the next I’m walking into a jungle via a rope bridge as I enter the environment. Suddenly I’m beginning to understand the appeal and why so many people of all ages go gaga over it. We make our way into a mock temple that looks real as hell with its sandstone look and bamboo support poles. We weave our way deeper into caverns, and Whitney smiles at me.

  “Isn’t this awesome? When I was little, I had the hat and a fake whip. I’d pretend I was Indiana Jones Jr. Cause you know, Indiana is a unisex name.”

  “Oh yeah, totally is,” I agree.

  She giggles. “It was so much fun. I played out so many adventures here. My dad always sort of smiled, but Mom would pretend with me. Do you remember that?”

  “Of course I do, baby. I had as much fun as you. I always imagined having a little girl to make
believe with. It made adventures so easy to have.”

  We make it to the line, and they continue to reminisce as I listen. I’ve never heard B talk this much about her ex. I wonder if it’s a sign she’s moving forward. We climb into the cart designed like a car, and I enjoy their giggles. It’s a startling difference from what I’m used to with the men. I’m not sure if a relationship makes you soft like Warp insinuated, but it opens your mind up to other possibilities. I can’t help but wonder what a child we made would look like. Would he be like his big sister, adventurous and charming, or quiet and observant, the way I was? Would he have her eyes or mine? As we exit the cart, I’m thinking all kinds of thoughts I never entertained before.

  We leave the ride, and I’m more determined than ever to cement our relationship. I wrap my arm around her waist as we continue to follow our fearless leader to Pirates, where apparently they liked the redhead wench best. The water ride was the perfect blend of old and new as they mixed the original ride and the new movies.

  Next, we slow things down even more with the Haunted Mansion. The line is a little longer, but the groups are big, and it moves fast.

  “Oh man, this used to freak me out when I was little, remember?” Whitney whispers.

  “Yes, dear. It was my hand you were trying to break.”

  “I was not that bad,” Whitney scoffs.

  “I don’t know; my hand begs to differ.” B shakes her hand and winces.

  “Mom, you suck.” Whitney rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue.

  It’s a look at what a real family is like. For the first time, I don’t feel like a person on the outside looking in. I feel as if I’m a part of it.

  Hours and too much food later, we’re making the trek back to our car.

  “So what did you think?” Whitney asks as we ride the tram back to the parking area.

  “You know what? It wasn’t as kiddy as I thought it would be. There were some cool rides, good food, and even better company. I had a good time. Thanks for bringing me.”

  Her cheeks fill with blood, and she glances away. “You’re welcome.”

  B wraps her arms around my waist and leans her head on my shoulder. I toy with one of her curls. I can tell she needed this, a day out with us uninterrupted by work, the club, her in-laws, or well-meaning people who knew her before her life drastically changed. She’s not the woman she once was. How could she be? I’ve watched her grow into a new person over the past six months. She’s stronger, more confident, and if it’s possible, even sexier than when I first met her in the bar. She was an angel with a halo of dark curls that caught the light in a room full of sinners that night, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I move my hand to her neck and massage her with my thumb and pointer finger. Her body relaxes, and she walks sleepily with us to the car. She’s out ten minutes into the drive.

  I sense Whitney’s eyes on me and peer in the rearview mirror. I turn down the music.

  “You got something you want to say to me, kid?”

  “I wasn’t sure what to think about, you. You came around when my mom was vulnerable. It worried me. She’s strong, but no one is indestructible. You’re younger and completely different from anyone she knows. But maybe that’s a good thing. I haven’t seen my mother this happy in years. I’m ashamed of how ignorant I was to her unhappiness. She always hides it so well. But seeing her with you is like going through a time warp.” She nods her head and goes quiet.

  “You giving me your approval?” I ask trying to decipher her intent.

  “Yeah. I think, maybe I am. With a warning. Don’t hurt her.”

  “It’s the furthest thing from my mind, kid.” She’s a fierce little thing with moxie.

  “I can tell. And I’m not a kid.”

  I snicker. “Yeah, okay… Kid.”

  She huffs.

  I wink at her in the rearview before I turn the music back up and we settle in for the ride back home.

  ***

  My phone rings in the middle of the night. I groan as I grope the nightstand for it blindly. I find it and bring it to my ear.

  “Hullo?”

  “Freeze?”

  “Ughhh. Shadow?” I push up into a sitting position.

  “I need a favor, brother. We got a potential situation, and I need as safe space for my family tonight.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. What happened?” I scrub my face with my hands as my eyes adjust to the dimness.

  “Someone said they saw Blue’s mom talking to what appeared to be Calla’s Dad. Makes me nervous. Man didn’t come all the way up here in the dead of night like some cat burglar to play catch up. The fact that he didn’t say shit to Stone about coming up either, leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

  “Shit.” Pixie is getting crazier every year. I think Calla’s arrest followed up by her husband, Psycho’s death broke something in the tiny woman. “Wait. I thought Battle was in for life.”

  “You and me both.”

  “You think your family is in danger from them?”

  “I ain’t about to take a chance on it. Your Old Lady’s house is the only one her mom won’t know.”

  “Yeah. I get it.” I scratch my scalp. “Alright man, bring them over. I’ll get the house up and make space.”

  “Thanks, brother, it’s just for tonight, while we do some recon and ask some important questions.”

  “I’d do the same if I was you. Here, let me give you the address when you’re ready.” I relay the address and climb from the bed to grab a quick shower and finish waking up. Dressed in jeans, and a t-shirt with my holster and my cut over it, I sink onto the mattress by Blanche. I shake her gently.

  “Hmmm.”

  “B, get up we have a situation.”

  “What’s wrong?” she mumbles.

  “Blue, Delphine, and Bolton are coming over.”

  She opens her eyes. “Whaaaa happene?” she slurs.

  “You know there’s bad blood between her and her family.”

  “Mmmhmm.” She nods.

  “Shadow’s worried her mother might be doing something really stupid in her grief. They’re going to crash here tonight while he sorts things out.”

  “What time is it?”

  “About twelve-thirty.”

  “Jesus. Alright. Let me go wake Whit, let her know what’s happening, and make up the pull out couch and blow up mattress.”

  She slips from the bed, and I start moving the furniture around to make room for the playpen and the pull out bed. I know Bolton will want to stay close to his baby sister and mother, so I make room for the blow-up bed too. By the time I’m finished, Whitney is stumbling out of her room in pajamas pants and a loose tank top. Her hair has been placed in a messy bun.

  “Who’s coming over?” she mumbles.

  “Friends of the family. Her mom is going through some issues, and they need a space to crash for the night where she can’t come disrupt them. They have a two-month-old, they don’t want to be caught up in drama.”

  “M’kay. Do I need to be up for this?”

  “No, Whit. You can go back to bed, we just didn’t want you to wake up and be lost in the morning,” I say gently.

  She nods and toddles back to bed like a zombie.

  “Think she’ll remember any of that?” I ask Blanche.

  “It’s a fifty-fifty chance,” she says with a smile.

  “Should I make coffee?”

  “I bet Shadow would appreciate it.”

  “Alright. Can you explain what the hell the deal is with this family?”

  “Long story short, he mother, Pixie got pregnant with Calla by another man and lied about it for years. When Calla hit sixteen, she found out, and all hell broke loose. She started acting out, resenting her sister, who she thought received special treatment
because she was their real child.”

  “Oh my, God. Why didn’t they come clean?”

  “The other man was another member of the Kings of Chaos. You don’t do that. You don’t hop from one man to another unless it’s just for fun. When you start talking serious relationships and babies, it’s against the rules. They were trying to hide her gaffe.”

  “And that poor child suffered.”

  “Calla’s hell on wheels. It’s hard for me to think of her as a victim when she’s a trouble starting raging bitch. She had years to get over what happened, and move forward. Instead, she used it as an excuse to make bad choices and divide her family.”

  “So this man is Calla’s birth father?”

  “Yeah, Battle.”

  “Holy shit his road name is Battle?”

  “Yes, and that says everything you need to know about him.”

  “Jesus.”

  “He’s always been a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket, so maybe Calla just inherited it.”

  “Maybe, but she’s in jail right now, so I doubt any of this is on her.”

  “No, this has Pixie written all over it. She’s been banned from the clubhouse, and it hasn’t set well with her on top of the excommunication going from Bolton and Blue. Lonely people who feel slighted are the worst enemies. They have nothing but time to think of their plan and a false sense of righteousness’s that could quiet the most sensitive conscious. Not that Pixie’s was in working order. Lying about paternity for sixteen years takes a brass pair and a strong lying ability.”

  “Among other things.” She moves into the kitchen, starts the coffee, and pads to the linen closet. She hands me the blow-up mattress, and I begin the inflation while she pulls out the bed and starts to dress it with sheets.

  I’m drinking a cup of coffee at the kitchen bar when the knock comes at the door. I make my way over and peer out the peephole making a mental note to beef up the security. I spot the family and open up. Blue’s brown eyes are red-rimmed, and her face is flushed. I feel a pang of sympathy for her. Poor thing just had a baby, and now she has to deal with this on top of it. She has Delphine covered by a blanket in a car seat, so I assume she’s still sleeping.

 

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