Gin's Longing
Page 17
“When will we come back again, Mama?” my always curious little girl asks me from the backseat as we drive down the highway, getting closer to the place I once used to love living.
“I’m not sure, baby. We’ll see.” Hearing her grumble when I say the dreaded “we’ll see,” she huffs and lets me know how much she hates it when I say those words to her. Kimi and I both let out a laugh and I dig through my purse for the small coloring book and crayons I grabbed at the gas station to occupy her with when she started to get antsy. Extending my hand, I give her the peace offering, smiling when she takes them and immediately starts coloring.
“Is Gin going to come visit you?” Kimi asks after a while, but all I can do is shrug. “You know, I haven’t see him with a smile on his face since Britney died.”
“Did you know her?” Curiosity piqued, I decide I want to know about the woman who held Gin’s heart.
“She was a friend of Ellie’s, so yeah, I saw her every now and then. She was vibrant and full of life, always smiling,” she says with a smile of her own. “The day Jake called Vin and told him about the clubhouse...all I could think about was Jake being there when it happened. He wasn’t, but he could have been. We had a rough start, Jake and I, and even after he got over being a stubborn ass, I couldn’t bring myself to just be with him.
“I guess what I’m getting at is that something like what you and Gin have, like what me and Jake have, is worth fighting for. Even if you have to take a time out from each other now and then.” She lets out a dry laugh. “Jake and I took a two-year time out.”
“I met Gin when I was seventeen,” I admit, and she glances my way. “He just showed up. Right when I needed him. Like magic, time and time again, until he was just...gone.” I leave out the time he was gone was when I needed him the most. I don’t regret my daughter, but the way I became pregnant with her is something I had to overcome and come to terms with. Roger was the person who helped me through that time, not Gin.
“Same here,” she tells me with a soft smile. “Both young and in love with men who are too old for us.” She chuckles.
“I’m not sure about the whole love bit,” I say, shaking my head. “For me anyway.”
“Oh, you love him. I just don’t think you know it yet.”
Thirty-Six
Gin
The car pulling up to the clubhouse gives me pause, and the closer it gets, the better I can make out the plates. Wisconsin. “The fucking hell?” I say aloud, stepping away from the bike I had been working on. Only one person I know who would be coming here with those plates.
I grab a handful of the blue shop towels to try to wipe my hands clean of oil before making my way to where the car has stopped. The driver’s door opens and out steps Mindy, the woman who took off with my kids years ago and never once looked back. Until now, it seems.
She looks the same as the day she walked out of my hospital room, telling me she was going to live with her mom and take my kids with her.
Mindy’s long blonde hair flows behind her as she pulls off her too-big sunglasses and places them on her head. That smile I had once found sexy spreads wide when her eyes reach me. “Gin,” she says my name like we’re old friends, not two people who were once in a toxic marriage.
“Brings you here?” My words are clipped, and as my eyes roam the car, I can just make out two figures in the backseat.
“I’m getting married,” she tells me, bringing my focus back to her.
“So, you what? Came for congratulations?” I scoff, “You got it. Now you can leave.” I point toward the gate she just drove through.
“Gin, don’t be like that,” she coos, like she’s always done in the past when she wanted something, usually money, though this time, I’m sure that isn’t what she’s after. The way she’s dressed, she isn’t in the market for currency. Not to mention the designer bag slung over her shoulder and bright red sports car she pulled up in. Those aren’t things she could buy with the amount of money I send her for my kids each month.
“How is it I’m supposed to be, Min? You come back here after eight years and expect me to welcome you with open arms?” I keep my steps slow, measured, as I walk toward the car. I know my kids are in the back. What I don’t know is how they’ll take me. Who knows the kind of man their mother has painted me to be. They were practically babies when they left.
“They’re all grown up now.” Mindy’s tone turns hopeful.
“Bet they would be,” I grumble to myself as I reach the car. I pause before opening the door. “Why are you here?” I ask, taking my hand away from the handle, deciding to wait for them to come out.
“I need you to take care of them for a while. Bill and I are going to do some traveling after the wedding—”
“Bill?” I cut her off, holding up my hand. “What happened to Glenn?” The man I thought was raising my kids.
“Oh,” she waves her hand in dismissal, “that was over years ago.”
“So, what? You decide you didn’t want to play Mommy anymore and are just going dump them off here? The fuck? I can’t take care of ‘em.”
“They are your kids too, Gin. I’ll be back in a few months, six at the most. They are too much of a handful and get into too much trouble for me to trust them on their own. Jason just got himself arrested a week ago. Like father, like son, I suppose,” she adds in a condescending tone, crossing her arms.
“Arrested? The fuck for?” My brows knit together.
“Vandalism. And Brook, she’s been caught shoplifting four times already. I can’t handle them anymore. You’re going to have to take over.” She steps up to the opposite side of the car and pulls open the door. “Let’s go, Brook. I have to get going if I want to make my flight,” Mindy says, waving her hand at the blonde in the backseat. Brook. Fucking hell. She was five when I saw her last. My little princess. Probably doesn’t even remember me.
Brook protests as she gets out of the car and stands to the side of her mother. And damn if she doesn’t take my breath away. Her hair is long, much like her mother’s, but tied back in a sleek ponytail with streaks of every shade of the rainbow. At maybe five-two, she comes to her mother’s shoulder and damn it to hell, she’s dressed in less clothing than Mindy. Short as fuck jean cut-off shorts and a tank top that doesn’t even go past her bellybutton. I have seen club whores with more clothes on. I don’t say shit, though. I keep my mouth shut and look past the dark eyeshadow on her lids. My daughter is all grown up. “Say hi to your daddy, Brook,” Mindy tells her, then barks, “Get out of the car, Jason.” He was only three when they left. He finally obeys her and crawls out.
At eleven, he stands taller than his sister and mother. Kid has my genes. Baggy jeans and t-shirt with some band on the front greet me when he crosses his arms and chances a glance my way. His dirty blond hair is shaved on both sides of his head with a few inches of long hair hanging down the side and covering half of his face. “Hey, Dad.” His voice carries over to where I stand, the tightening in my chest growing as those words hit me.
“Jason,” I respond. “You two look good.” The fucking hell do I say to them?
“Well, then, Gin, if you could be so kind as to get their bag out,” Mindy says, breaking the awkward tension. The trunk pops open and I find three bags. Two bright pink disco looking things and one generic black bag two sizes smaller. I don’t even have to question which bag it is I’m taking. I reach out and grab the small black bag and hold it to my side as I back away. The fuck am I doing? They can’t fucking stay here. We just had a bomb threat hardly two weeks ago.
“You got three weeks, Min,” I say, starting toward the clubhouse. Rock is there to greet me at the door.
“They can stay in the suite. Ari can stay with Vin and Ellie,” he tells me as I walk past, not waiting for the kids. I need a minute to process. Grace leaves three days ago and now my ex drops a bomb in the form of my kids. Only they ain’t fucking kids no more. Shit, they look grown. And the shoplifting and vandalism? What has she b
een doing with them? What the hell does she expect me to do? I’m a criminal myself, how the fuck am I supposed to teach my own kids not to be such?
“Hey, G, what do you want me to do with them?” Sage’s voice breaks into my thoughts, bringing me to the reality that I just left my kids outside while their mom drove off to start her new life. I have no doubt she won’t be coming back anytime soon. The fucking hell am I going to do? They can’t live in the clubhouse, not with all the death and destruction waiting around the corner these days. Just need to step the fuck up and be a dad. That’s exactly what I’m going to fucking do.
“Ah, yeah. Pres said to have ‘em stay in the suite,” I say as I reach the door. When I turn, I see Jason and Brook have both followed Sage inside to where I am. “Min gone?” I ask, and both kids somberly nod their heads. “Right. Well, you two can stay in here...for now.” I reach back and scratch my neck, wondering what to say next. “I’ll see about other living arrangements.” I place the bag I forgot I was carrying on the floor of the room and step out the way for them to walk inside.
“We have to share a room?” Brook asks in disgust, crossing her arms in defiance.
“We don’t have too many rooms available. You’ll have to stick it out. Common room is down the hall. The girls serve breakfast and dinner. Catch them in a good mood, they might fix lunch for ya. I’m out in the shop most of the day. You need me, that’s where you’ll find me.
“Don’t go creeping around in the rooms. Brothers won’t take too kindly to anyone snooping through their shit.” I stop for a moment, something dawning on me. “What about school? You two go to school, don’t ya?”
“I dropped out and Jay got suspended,” Brook says, cocking her hip out. The hell?
“The reason I stayed away was to give you two a decent life. The fuck has your mom been?”
“With her boyfriend,” Jason grumbles, and I bite back a curse.
“Bill?” Brook shakes her head.
“No. Bill is new. Ryan was the guy before, but Bill had more money and doesn’t like kids. Hence the reason we are here. Look, I know you might be my biological dad, but you ain’t my dad. I don’t need one, nor do I want one,” she states, full of sass.
“Yeah?” I ask, raising my brows and getting up close to her face. That face I remember at such a young age and those eyes that once looked at me like I hung the moon. “Well, Brooklyn, I am your daddy, and whether you like it or not, you do need me. As for school, you are twelve—”
“Thirteen,” she huffs, stopping me mid-sentence.
“Thirteen,” I correct. “You will be going back to school. You too, Jason. The shit you were getting away with when you were living with your mom, you sure as fuck won’t be getting away with here. Got it?” I keep my voice stern, making sure to look the both of them over as I tell them how things are going to be from here on out.
“But it’s May,” Brook says. “School is just getting out and doesn’t start until September,” she argues.
“Then you can do summer school,” I bark at her back talk.
“That’s not fair!” she shouts.
“That’s life, kiddo. Shit ain’t fair. I’ll be out in the shop if you need me,” I tell them before turning to leave. Sage is still standing by the door, smirk firmly in place on his face. “Fuck off.” I glare at him before storming out of the clubhouse.
Thirty-Seven
Gin
After leaving Jason and Brook in the clubhouse, I go back outside and try to continue working on the bike I was servicing, but I can’t get my head on right. I decide I need a ride.
I don’t get one head turn as I get on Beauty and speed out of the gate onto the open road. I need to clear my head and riding is the best way to do that. Damn good thing my bike was dropped off two days ago by the kid, Hank, who works at the repair shop where I stashed it when Grace and I went to the safe house. He’s still here too. Think Rock might get him to prospect. The kid is probably an even bigger computer whiz then Reek.
The wind whips by and I revel in the free feeling. The shit that has happened in the last two weeks has been a whirlwind of good, bad, and fucking hell. No doubt about it, I have seen better days.
About five miles from the clubhouse and two miles from Cental, I pull into a place I haven’t been in years. The skeleton of a house still stands unfinished. This place was once my future—my future with Brit and the two kids I left back at the clubhouse. My plan to get custody of Brook and Jason after the house was built and Brit had the baby was shot all to hell along with Brit and my brothers.
When I got out of the hospital, I came here with the intent of burning it down. But I couldn’t do it then, and I still can’t do it now.
Looking over the place once again, it wouldn’t take much to get it livable. To get it ready for them...and her. An image of Grace slams into me, her standing on the front porch as I walk up the few steps to pull her into a heated kiss after a long day of working in the shop.
Would she come here? Live with me?
I leave my bike parked and start toward the unfinished house to assess what needs to be done. I had nearly gotten the walls up and the roof is on. I’m just in need of outside walls and I can get it enclosed.
In need of further distraction, I decide to get to work.
Thirty-Eight
Grace
It’s been over a week since we got back home and I’ve already started looking for somewhere else to live. So far, I’ve narrowed it down to three places, each one worse than the next. “Momma, will I be able to bring my tea set with me to the new house?” Tanya asks, holding up the small plastic tea pot Gin bought her during our short time at the safe house. My heart squeezes at the thought of him. I haven’t heard a word from him, nor do I expect to, since Kimi brought us home. She spent the night, then let out first thing, no doubt eager to get back to her husband.
“Yes, baby. Of course you can. You can bring all of your toys to the new place. Just as long as I get to bring all my shoes,” I say with a smile, earning a giggle from her in return.
“All your glass slippers, Momma!” she exclaims with a big smile. “And all your pretty dresses.” She giggles some more.
“Oh yes. I never know when I might need them.” I cross my arms, playing along with her, being overdramatic. “Why don’t you gather up your tea set and we can have a tea party,” I say, smiling as she bounds to her room to do just that. With Gin not too far from my mind, I sit down and have a tea party with my daughter.
* * *
The tub makes the blissful sound of being filled to the brim and I can already feel myself relaxing. The hot water engulfs me as I get settled and read my latest purchase. I gave in and stopped at the book store today on the way home from grocery shopping, buying Tanya and myself a book. Tanya’s a little less adult and more of the princess variety.
As I read about a woman scorned and plotting her own death to frame her husband, I find my thoughts drifting to Gin once again, the question that haunts me every day still in the forefront of my mind. Should I have left? Always that question and never the same answer. Of course, I always turn to yes, but the longer I ponder over the question, I remember Gin and how I felt in his arms. Then, more what if’s start to flood my subconscious. So many, I get frustrated and decide the relaxing bath just isn’t working anymore, nor is the distraction of the book.
Accepting defeat, I pull the plug and get out of the tub, towel drying off quickly before slipping on my oversized sleep shirt. The comfy cotton material clings in some places that haven’t quite dried yet, but I don’t pay it any mind.
Padding out of the bathroom, I reach to flip off the light, but the sight of a shadow by my bedroom door makes me pause. I nearly shriek, but the smell of cigarettes and leather travel to my nose before I can. “You need a security system, babe.” Gin’s gruff voice fills the still of the night, sending currents of heat through my body.
“I don’t normally have outlaw bikers breaking in.” I pause at my attempt
of a joke. “Well, it hasn’t been a problem until recently. Why are you here?” I get the question out there, the one lingering on my lips.
Leaning against the door, I leave the light on and patiently wait for him to answer. He doesn’t, though. Only takes a few carefully calculated steps farther into the room, closer to me. I try not to let my betraying body win out, but I’m fighting a battle I lost before he even showed his face in my room. “Gin, why are you here?” I try again, but he’s close now, too close.
“Should have known I couldn’t stay away from you, babe. Just isn’t going to happen,” he says, his heavily booted feet stopping right in front of me before reaching out and gripping my hip in his big palm. The touch is scorching, even through my shirt. “Decided a while back. I just didn’t accept my decision I guess.” His other hand goes to my hip, and together, they pull me in flush with his hard body. His smell is intoxicating. I never thought I would think the scent of cigarettes would go in my arousal category, but mixed with the leather and oil, I feel myself going weak in the knees.
“What was it you decided, Gin?” I whisper, unable to make a louder noise than that. He chuckles at the hitch in my voice and leans in toward my ear, brushing his lips and beard along the shell. I suppress a moan at the contact, not wanting to interrupt his answer.
“That you’re mine, Grace. Have been for a long ass time now. I was just too big of a prick to realize it.” Sucking in a breath, I hold it, anticipating his next move, but it isn’t what I think it’s going to be. Instead of leaning in closer and traveling his lips along my heated skin like I want him to, he backs away.
Backs.
Away.