by Emily Minton
Thoughts of clothes come to an end as soon as we pull into the clubhouse parking lot. When I see the amount of bikes and vehicles, I nearly ask Addy to take me home. Instead, I take in a deep breath for courage and paste on a fake smile. I can do this. The men, women, and children inside are my family. What I look like doesn’t matter to them. They just want to see me, and I want to see them, too.
“The first time we came here, there were just a few bikes parked out here. Boz has really grown the club,” I say, trying to turn my nervousness into something positive.
Addy nods her head in agreement, finally shutting off the car. “It won’t be long until our boys are running around here with a cut of their own.”
“That’s true,” I agree, proud that my children have a legacy.
As we get out of the car, Addy rushes to my side and grabs my hand. Usually, this would piss me off, make me think that I can’t take care of myself. This time, I am glad for the support. Today, she is going to be my rock. At least, she will be until I can find Boz. Then, I am going to stick to his side until I can head home. That may be a little childish of me, but I don’t care. I need their support today.
I give her a smile, letting her know I’m okay, then we start walking toward the clubhouse. The girls rush ahead of us, holding the door open. I look down at Fiona’s smiling face, and thoughts of all three of my children fill my head. Through all this, my biggest concern has been making sure I make it long enough to see them grow up. With each day that passes, that concern diminishes just a bit. I may not be completely better, but I really think that day will come soon. I am going to kick cancer’s ass.
I run my hand over Fiona’s head as Addy and I walk past her. When we step inside, I am surprised to see the common room empty. I’ve been in this room hundreds of times, and this is the first time I have seen it empty. Usually, it is full of brothers. Even in the wee hours of the morning, someone is always hanging around.
“Where is everybody?” I ask, stopping just a few feet from the door.
“Probably out back,” she replies, dragging me through the room. “The guys had a couple more picnic tables delivered this week so there’d be room for everybody to sit down and eat. Last get together, we had to take turns sitting down.”
“Boz mentioned something about new tables, but I forgot,” I mumble, pushing open the kitchen door. “They must have bought a ton of tables if he expects to have enough room for everyone to sit down.”
As soon as we step into the kitchen, I see Lettie standing at the counter, putting a lid on a huge bowl of potato salad. Hearing us come through the door, she sets the bowl down and walks over to us. Pulling me into her arms, she gives me a hug. It’s not the usual Lettie hug; she’s loosened her grip quite a bit since my surgery, but any hug from Lettie is a great hug. You can just feel the love pouring out of her when she pulls you close.
When she finally releases her hold, she reaches up and cups my cheeks. “I’m so glad to see you, sweetheart.”
Over the years, Lettie has quit being just my mother in law. She is the mom that I haven’t had since my own died. To her, I am the daughter she never had. She loves me, and I love her right back. I am so glad my dad has her in his life. Even though, it is kind of weird that Boz’s mom is shacking up with my dad.
She gives my cheek a light pat before walking back over to the counter and picking up the bowl. “Let’s get this out there. The guys are ready to eat.”
We all walk out into the backyard, and the sounds of the children playing hit my ears. I look around the yard, seeing it filled with old ladies and their children. I see the younger boys have started a game of football, while the little girls are running around the swing set and sand box. The older kids are bundled together, probably trying to come up with ways to torment the little kids. Seeing the families here having fun makes me smile. It’s the first genuine smile I’ve felt in a long time.
All the women are gathered around the food tables, uncovering dishes, and getting paper plates and all the plastic utensils ready for us to eat. What I don’t see is any of the men. The more I look, I notice that Leland, Jamie, Cam, and Parker aren’t here either.
“Where’s Boz?” I ask to no one in particular. “Where are all the brothers?”
It’s not like him to not be out here waiting for me.
Lettie shrugs her shoulders, while Addy gives me a lost look. “Brew isn’t here either. Maybe they are still getting the fireworks and stuff together.”
She’s probably right. I decide to not let it bother me. Wherever Boz is, so are my boys, so they are safe. They won’t be gone too long, I’m sure. He will be looking for me as soon as he finds out that we are here.
“I think everything is ready. Do you want to wait for Boz, or do you want us to get started on making the kids some plates?” Lettie asks.
I really want to wait for Boz, but I’m sure the kids are hungry. “I guess we can go on and fix the kids’ plates.”
I start to pick up a paper plate to help them, but Lisa lays her hand on top of mine. “You’re not doing it. One of us will. You go on and find yourself a seat.”
As much as I want to argue, I know it won’t do any good. Rolling my eyes at her, I turn and go looking for somewhere to sit down. I haven’t taken more than a few steps from the table when Leland walks out of the clubhouse, and what I see stops me in my tracks.
I can feel the tears welling up as I look at my handsome boy. His beautiful blonde hair is gone. Shaved away, just like mine. I don’t have a chance to say anything, because Jamie comes out next. James has always had Boz’s thick brown waves, but now, he is as bald as me. Cam and Parker come out, followed by Smoke’s youngest son, Kayson. Then, the brothers start walking out. Each and every one has their head shaved. When I see Brew, I turn to look at Addy. She has tears in her eyes, but they are also filled with love.
I turn back just in time to see Boz step into the backyard. I let out a gasp when I see his bald head. When I saw everyone else, I knew Boz had done this, knew he had shaved his. What I wasn’t expecting is the new tattoo on the side of his head. It’s still red and covered in antibacterial goo, but I can still see my name written across the side of his head. Even more surprising is the small breast cancer ribbon hanging from the bottom of the X in Trix. He has had my named inked on him for years, but somehow, this means more.
Running to him, I throw myself into his arms. He holds me close, placing a kiss on my lips. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to grow heated. When I feel that familiar tingle rush through my body, I know just how to thank him for all this.
Stepping out of his arms, I look up at him and say, “I think I have an idea on how to properly thank you.”
“We should take advantage of the babysitters we have now. Let’s head up to our room,” he says, giving my ass a tight squeeze. “It would be nice not have any interruptions, so you could be as loud as you want.”
I lick my lips and ask, “Do you plan on making me scream?”
“Fuck, yeah.” He growls, leaning down to place another searing kiss on my lips.
Pulling away for him, I look around the back yard, seeing it filled with bare heads. At some point, I am going to have to let each and every man know how much I appreciate what they have done for me. Right now, I am going to show my man my appreciation. My eyes turn to where my girls are standing near the tables, and I smile at them.
“Keep an eye on the kids for me,” I say with a wink. “I need to go show my old man just how much I love his new look.”
EPILOGUE
Trix
Walking out of the bathroom stall, I button up my jeans and head to the sink. After washing my hands, I look into the mirror. Running my fingers through my short locks, a slight smile spreads across my face. My once long wavy hair is gone, only to be replaced with shoulder length curls. For some reason, it grew back in tight curls. It’s thinner now, too, not nearly as thick as it was before chemotherapy. My doctor says I may never get back my thick locks,
but at least I have hair again. Boz says he loves it. He definitely loves grabbing hold of it while he kisses me. I love it, too. It’s cute, different but cute.
My phone dinging with a text draws me from my thoughts. I step away from the sink and pull it out of my pocket, smiling when I see Addy’s name pop up.
Where you at, bitch?
I quickly answer, letting her know I’m in the back bathroom at the clubhouse, then look back into the mirror, my attention going directly to my chest. My hair isn’t the only thing that has changed. I now have breast implants, nice perky C cups that will not sag with age. I figured Boz would love them, but it took a while for him to get used to the new me. He told me that he loved my tits but part of him missed my scar. He missed seeing it and remembering how hard I fought to stay with him and our children. I don’t need the scar to remind me, because I am still fighting every day, fighting to not give into the fear that the cancer will come back and take me away from the people I love.
“Hey, chicky, what the hell is taking you so long?” Addy asks while opening the bathroom door and stepping inside. “We need to hit the road. We’re supposed to be in Nashville by noon to meet up with the clubs from down south.”
Addy, Pru, Lisa, and Gidget worked together with old ladies from clubs throughout the southeast to organize a cancer run. Bikers came out the of the woodwork. We have bikers here from half the MCs in a four-state area. Not to mention, every weekend warrior has shown up to ride wearing a pink ribbon pinned to their cut. Each one is paying a fee to be involved while wearing a smile on their faces. All of that money, every penny, will be donated to breast cancer research.
“I was admiring my new tits,” I say, grabbing my boobs and giving them an affectionate squeeze. “Aren’t they just beautiful?”
“Yeah, they’re really nice,” she says with a laugh, before adding, “You’ve been admiring them for the last two years. I figure you’ve shown them enough love.”
I had my reconstruction surgery a couple of months after completing chemo. I actually got the all clear for the surgery earlier, but Boz and I wanted to give my body a little time to heal before cutting on it again. At the time, it was hard to wait but it was the right decision. Chemo was hard on me, and I needed some time for my body to grow strong again.
My lips tip up as I walk to her and give her a hug. “Thanks for doing all this.”
She gives me a tight hug in return, then steps back and asks, “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
I’m not sure how to answer that. I’m excited about the charity run, grateful my friends put it together, and proud the biker brothers came together to support such a good cause. Still, I’m at the verge of tears just thinking about what it represents. Today is not about me, not about my cancer. Today is about Mom, about the battle she fought but lost. Every biker will be riding in her honor during the First Annual Patty Slade Memorial Cancer Run.
Pulling in a deep breath, I get my shit together. No way will a tear fall from my eyes today. It’s been four and a half years since my mastectomy, and I feel like a completely different person. It’s almost like someone else has taken over my body, someone stronger. Facing death does that to a person, causes them to grow a backbone. For me, considering I already had a backbone, mine is now made of steel.
Blowing out a long breath, I nod my head. “More than ready.”
We walk out of the bathroom and go in search for Boz and Brew. They aren’t in the common room, but Pru, Gidget, and Lisa are. I want to make sure that I thank them again for putting this together. My friends worked hard, and they deserve to know just how much I appreciate it.
Walking over to them, I give each of them a hug before saying, “Thank y’all so much for this. I know it was a lot of work, but Dad, Boz, and I really appreciate it. I hope we can make this an annual event.”
Addy jabs me in the ribs with her elbow. “Of course, we will. It’s for a great cause. Why wouldn’t we do this every year?”
Turning my attention to Lisa, I say, “Thanks again for helping to keep an eye on the little ones while we’re gone. I know you would’ve rather gone with us, but it’s nice to know they will be here having fun while we’re gone.”
She smiles, looking to the other side of the common room, where the kids are playing some video game. “I’m glad to do it. Round, on the other hand, isn’t too happy about not being able to ride. He still tried to get up and go anyways, but I worked a little magic that had him back in bed. Luckily, it wore him out, so he will be staying there.”
We had planned to let the younger kids go to friends’ houses while we rode. At the last minute, Fiona and two of Addy’s girls threw a fit. They didn’t want to go anywhere, wanted to be at the clubhouse with the older kids. Thankfully, Lisa stepped up to be their babysitter, since she wasn’t able to go on the run. Round caught strep throat from Marley a few days ago. She’s completely fine now, but Round is sick as a dog. There is no way he can ride, so she figured her time would be spent better taking care of the kids.
“You ladies need to get your asses in gear,” Smoke says from the doorway. “We need to be hitting the road.”
After saying goodbye to Lisa and the kids, we head toward the door. I come to an abrupt stop as soon as my eyes hit the parking lot. I just can’t believe what I am seeing. There has to be a hundred bikes in the yard. Each one has a biker on it, each biker wearing a light pink bandanna somewhere on their body.
Gidget places her hand on my back and asks, “What’s the matter?”
I wipe a tear off my cheek and shake my head, with a smile on my face. “Not one damn thing. In fact, everything is perfect.”
The words have just left my mouth when I notice my dad with Lettie sitting on his bitch seat. His eyes are trained on me. Even from the distance, I can see the pride in his eyes. This day is for his woman, my mother. He may have Lettie now, but his heart will always belong to my mother. I raise my hand then bring it to my chest, covering my heart. He does the same, both of us smiling.
“We need to get this show on the road,” Pru states, heading toward her old man. “I’m ready to ride.”
She’s right. It’s time to hit the road. Through the years, I have learned there isn’t anything better than being on the back of my old man’s bike. I hesitate for just a minute, letting my friends get to their men, then I head for Boz.
When he sees me, he gives me a wink. “You ready to ride, darlin’?”
Climbing on behind him, I say, “I’m always ready to ride with you.”
The End
Want more Boz and Trix?
Dirty Bastard
For more information about breast cancer awareness visit:
BREASTCANCER.ORG
SCORNED BASTARD
SCORNED BASTARD
BY
EMILY MINTON and SHELLEY SPRINGFIELD
Copyright © 2018 Emily Minton & Shelley Springfield
Published 2018
SCORNED BASTARD
By
Emily Minton
And
Shelley Springfield
Brew wanted a woman of his own, someone that could handle the darkness inside of him. When he finally found her, he knew he was one lucky bastard.
Addy wanted a man of her own, someone that would fight the darkness following her. When she finally found him, she knew she was one lucky bitch.
When darkness overshadows their happiness, will they stand together or let it finally win?
PROLOGUE
Addy
I’m just stepping out of the shower when I hear the bedroom door open. I quickly dry off and look in the mirror to see if the evidence of my tears are visible on my face. Brew hates it when I cry, considering what’s been happening he expects it, but he doesn’t like it. He has never liked seeing me upset, but there’s nothing I can do, the tears flow like water.
My best friend has cancer, the same type of cancer that killed her much loved mother. I was young when Patty Slade died, but I remember the fee
l of loss at her death. I remember her being sick, remember her losing her beautiful blonde hair. I can still see Trix cry as she watched her mother wither away. Patty was such a sweet woman, a woman filled with laughter and love. She shared that with all of us. Even me, the sad little girl that lived in a cold home, with even colder parents.
I just do not know where I will get the strength to go through that with my friend. How am I supposed to watch her throw up after treatments, see her hair fall out and lose weight, and stay the strong friend she needs? I’m at a loss on what to do, how to feel, or how to be the supportive friend that she needs. Trix knows that I’m always here for her, but she won’t ask for help, and damn sure isn’t going to want to accept any. That’s just tough shit though; she’s gonna get all the support and help that I can give, whether she wants it or not. I’m just going to have to figure out a way to be there for her and not let her know how hard it is on me.
Pulling Brew’s oversized t-shirt over my head, I slip on a pair of panties and open the bathroom door. Stepping into the bedroom, I stop and take in the scene in front of me. Brew is standing beside the bed, pulling his shirt over his head. Even after all these years, I still get butterflies when he is near. His rippling abs cause me to forget for a moment the stress of our lives, and I can feel my heartbeat accelerate.
My eyes scan his body, taking in his ink. His left pec and back are both covered with the Grim Bastards logo. Cameron’s name is scrolled over his left pec, and my name is written on his right. Each of our other children’s name are along his left rib. At first this bothered me, making me think that he was keeping Cam separated from the children we made together. I was pissed off for weeks, before finally breaking down and telling him what was wrong. Once I did, he was the one that was pissed. He let me, and everyone else within shouting distance, know that could not be farther from the truth.
