by Sarah Osborn
“I dunno, baby girl. I didn't think it was.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her onto his chest. “This doesn't feel fucked up.”
“No, it doesn't.” She took a deep breath. “It would be easier if it did.”
He stiffened. “Are we done, baby girl? Is that what you're saying?”
“I don't know.” Emma pushed herself away from him and looked over to his cut hanging on the hook behind the door. “I can't compete with that.”
He leaned forward and laid his hand across hers. “I really don't want to lose you, but that is who I am.”
“I know.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Wanna take a ride?”
~ oOo ~
They hadn't ridden for long – Deke was too tired and sore – but for an hour, everything was okay. And by the time they returned, Emma's head was starting to feel a little clearer. She followed him into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of tequila from the shelf. “Now we get shitfaced.”
“Don't you think maybe we should talk first, baby girl?”
“Nope. We're going to get drunk and high, and then we're going to fuck.”
“Emma...”
She shook her head and filled two shot glasses. “I need to do this, Deke.”
~ oOo ~
This wasn't good. Emma was drinking like it was going out of style. Deke was matching her, but his capacity for alcohol far outweighed hers. He frowned as she poured another shot and lit another joint. “You wanna slow down, baby girl?”
“Nope.”
“You'll make yourself sick. C'mon, Emma. Have something to eat at least.”
“Not hungry.” She threw the shot back and grimaced. “Come on big guy, keep up.”
“Nah. I've had enough. I'm gonna hit the hay. I'm tired and I've got no desire to sit an' watch you drink yourself into oblivion.”
“You're an asshole. D'ya know that? An arrogant, selfish asshole.” She swayed slightly as she stood and pointed her forefinger inches from his nose. “S'okay for you to party every night, but as soon as I want to, you go all fucking holier than thou on my ass. Well fuck you. I'm going to drink this until it's gone or I'm unconscious, whichever comes first.”
“You might wanna get your finger outta my face.”
“Nope.” She prodded his forehead. “Don't think I do.”
“I said, get your finger outta my face.” Standing up, he grabbed her hand and forced her arm behind her back. She fought against him, and he pulled her close. “You wanna fight me? Is that it?” He let go of her and stood back, his arms outstretched. “You get the first shot. C'mon then, take a swing.”
Her right fist glanced across his jaw and he laughed. “Is that the best you can do? Not only do you act like a twelve year old, you punch like one, too.” She swung again, harder this time. “C'mon Emma.” He pushed her, not hard, but hard enough to make her take a step back. “I said, fucking hit me.”
Shit, she'd put her weight behind that one. Emma took a step back, clutching her hand as he put his finger to his bottom lip. “Deke.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I think I'm gonna puke. And then I'd like you to check my hand. I think I busted it.”
Deke followed her to the bathroom and held her hair while she emptied her guts. He sighed, and crossed 'Wrestle her into submission, then fuck her senseless' off his 'How to stop her from leaving me' list. “You done?”
She sat up and wiped her nose on a piece of toilet paper. “Yeah.”
He handed her a glass of water. “Show me your hand.”
She held it out and blinked pathetically. “It really hurts.”
Her knuckles were a little red, but he'd seen enough busted hands over the years to know that it was fine. “Come on, Tyson, I'll get some ice.”
FORTY-EIGHT
Emma opened her eyes and moved her head cautiously. Deke's side of the bed was empty, but on the bedside table was a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. She left them where they were and shuffled to the bathroom. She didn't feel as bad as she should've, and figured after a shower, she'd feel human again.
In the shop. I let the goat and girls out.
Emma dropped the note back on the table and pushed her feet into her galoshes. The watery sun was trying to break through the clouds, the goat had his head in a bucket and the girls were scratching around the yard. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the garage door.
Deke smiled and straightened up. “Hey.” His smile faded. “What's wrong?”
She blinked and brushed away the tears that had sprung to her eyes at the sight of him working on his bike with the cats curled up on the seat. It was too... normal. He'd slotted back into her life too easily. “You can't keep doing this, Deke.”
And then she was in his arms. Emma hadn't been aware of him closing the distance between them. He smelled of soap, oil and cigarettes. Of home. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears wouldn't stop falling. “I can't keep doing this.”
There was a ratty old sofa in the corner of the garage that at some point in its life had been cream leather. Deke led her to it and, with a rag that was marginally less oily, wiped the seat. “Sit.” Obediently, she sat, and he took her hand. “Talk.”
Emma sighed. “It's too hard, Deke.” She frowned as he ran his thumb across her knuckles. “Ow. Why does my hand hurt? Did I hit something?”
“Yeah, me.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it so softly, she could barely feel it. “What's too hard?”
“Everything. On a practical level, it's hard without you around. It was fine before Lottie was born, but I'm alone here, and without someone to take care of her, I can't paint. This isn't some sort of stupid hobby, Deke. It's how I earn. I know you send cash when you can, but we can't live on that. Then there's everything else that needs to be done... Lottie's walking now, and into everything. I can't turn my back on her for a minute.” She sniffed. “But the hardest part, is just how much I miss you. You're part of my life now – Lottie's too – we're a family, and families are supposed to be together.”
“Emma...”
She shook her head. “You want me to talk. At least have the decency to listen. We can't go on like this. Even if you told me that you were back for good, I'm not sure I'd believe you. So...” She took a deep breath. “I'm thinking of putting the house up for sale.”
“No. You can't. You love it here... I love it here.” He tightened his grip on her hand.
“You're hurting my hand.” She pulled it away and examined the bruised knuckles. “Did I really hit you?”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “Don't sell, baby girl, this is our home. I'll be around more, I swear.”
“No you won't. You'll be here for long enough for this to feel normal, for me to start depending on you again, and then you'll be gone again, and I'll be left trying to cope on my own. I love it here, but I need to be nearer to people who can help out when you're not around.”
“And us? Are we okay?”
“No, Deke. We're not.” There was a red smudge on his lower lip, just visible under his beard. Emma touched it. “I really don't remember hitting you.”
“Doesn't matter.” He kissed her finger tips. “Are we done, baby girl?”
“I don't think so. I'm thinking of going to stay with my folks for a while. I need a change of scene to help me get some perspective before I make a final decision. Felix has offered to take care of this place if I do.”
“You've discussed this with Felix?” He stood up. “Fuck, Emma. Don't you think you shoulda come to me first?”
“You weren't here, and Tiny said I should wait until you got home.”
“Tiny? You talked to him about this as well? Anyone else? Facebook, maybe? An ad in the local paper?”
“Yes, I talked to Tiny, and Beth. I've been dangerously close to losing my shit at times. I keep reading about shootings, and you're not saying anything. What did you think I was going to do? Sit on my hands with my lip buttoned and believe your bullshit? I'm not supposed to talk about us to anyone, w
hile you feed me lines about how you're not involved in whatever is going on with the Freaks and the Serpiente. Do I look stupid, big guy? I've been out of my mind with worry and sometimes I need someone to talk to.”
“And which one of them is suggesting selling this place? Fucking Felix, I'm guessing. That little fag just can't keep his nose outta our shit.”
She was on her feet now. “This has nothing to do with Felix. I'm all out of options, Deke. Don't you get it? This place...” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “This place was supposed to be our forever home. Somewhere we could raise a family and then grow old together. I wanted us to create happy memories here. Shit. I'd even planned for us to have our ashes scattered at the bottom of the yard.” She sat back down again, and rubbed her forehead. “I'm not scared of hard work, but I can't do all that on my own.”
“You're not on your own.”
“It sure as shit feels like it.”
~ oOo ~
Deke's head was reeling. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He turned away. “I need to take a ride.”
“No. I'm sick and tired of you running out on me every time I try to say something you don't want to hear.” She grabbed his arm. “You'll stay and hear what I have to say.”
“And what if I don't wanna hear it, eh?” He turned and loomed over her. “What if I'm sick of hearing how I'm fucking up your perfect life? I busted a gut so you could have this place. I sold my bikes, I slept on a bed that was too short with a broken fucking back, in that fucking tin can, because Princess Emma needs her solitude. She has to have quiet to paint, cuz that's the most important thing. She can't throw some paint on a canvas in a normal house in the city. Oh no. Princess Emma has to have the perfect view, the perfect light and the perfect location. Emma wants a goat and chickens. Emma wants organic vegetables. Emma wants some big dumb oaf to be at her beck and call at all times. And what Emma wants, Emma gets. Well not this time, darlin'. You've always known what I am, an' I gave you plenty of chances to call it quits. You told me you could handle this life, ain't my fault if you can't. Now I suggest you move your hand, cuz right now I've had just about enough of listening to your crap. I gave you everything you wanted, and now you're throwing it all back in my face.” He pushed her out of his way. “I'm going for a ride. Don't wait up.”
FORTY-NINE
Obviously neither of them was thinking straight. Deke realized that, as soon as his eyes fell on the oil draining from his bike. Now he was left with the option of an old bar hopper that'd either break down or cripple him after twenty miles, or the humiliation of a Goldwing that he'd bought months ago, hoping to turn a quick profit. He was saved from his dilemma by Emma, who chose now to throw an empty beer bottle at his back. Slowly, he turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
~ oOo ~
Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit. Emma took a step back and willed her eyes to meet his. Shit. He was pissed. Really fucking pissed. She'd never been afraid of him, not even during some of the more memorable fights, and she still wasn't... not really. “I guess I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”
“You guess?” He walked back towards her and, grabbing a handful of her hair, yanked her head back. “If you was one of my brothers, I'd be pounding your face so hard you'd be eating through a straw for a month.”
“Don't let the fact that I'm a woman stop you.” Fuck. Where did that come from? Shut up mouth, you're going to get us killed..
“I'm not.” He released her and ran his hand through his hair. “Do you have any respect for me at all?”
“Of course I do.” She had to make this right. If she didn't she'd lose him. She reached up and touched his face. “I love you and I respect you. But I'm not afraid of you.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Not even a little bit?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I'm sorry I threw that bottle, but that really hurt, Deke. I know how much you did, but I thought it was what you wanted, too. I didn't think you were doing those things just for me. I thought you were doing them for us.”
“I was.” For a moment she thought he was going to pull her into his arms, but he turned away and sat back down. “This place... all of it. Lottie, the animals – even the fucking goat – they're all extensions of you. You're the center of my world, Emma.”
“Then tell me that this time you're staying.”
“I can't.”
“Then there's nothing else to be said.” She turned, walked out of the door and climbed into her car.
~ oOo ~
“You've made your point, Emma. Just switch on your cell, and get your ass home.” Deke dropped his cell on the dresser and turned his attention back to Lottie. “C'mon, sweetheart. I know you want your mom, but just lay down an' go to sleep for daddy.”
It was nearly midnight, and he hadn't heard from Emma since she'd walked out. Felix had shown up a couple of hours later with Lottie and Genghis, and if he knew where she was, he wasn't saying. Admitting defeat, he lifted Lottie from her crib and, with Genghis at his heels, carried her into the living room. “How about we watch a movie. Will that stop your yelling?”
Lottie sniffed and squirmed in his arms. “Down.” Deke obeyed, and she immediately wrapped her arms around Genghis' neck. “Sit, Gengy.” The dog lay down, and she curled up next to him. “Go sleep, Gengy.”
At some point in his absence, his daughter had learned to talk, and had gone from a few tottering steps to running everywhere. She'd also stopped loving her daddy. He reached down to touch her and Genghis rumbled deep in his throat. “Jesus, Genghis! You too?” The dog looked up and, apologetically, thumped the floor with his tail.
He'd been away for four months, and life had gone on without him. Deke leaned back and closed his eyes. He was pretty sure that Emma hadn't taken off just to prove a point, but it had hammered home to him just how difficult life had been for her. Any plans he'd had for working on his bike had been abandoned when it became clear that his daughter had a built-in radar for anything potentially lethal, and there was still a pile of dirty dishes on the kitchen counter, cuz bath time had taken twice as long and was twice as stressful than he'd envisioned, and no matter what he did, Lottie refused to sleep. He'd only had one day of this and he was exhausted. No wonder Emma felt like she was drowning.
The door opened, and he opened his eyes. “Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah.” Emma picked up Lottie. “I'll get her settled, then I think we should try to talk without losing our shit.”
When, half an hour later, his girl settled on the sofa with her arm around his waist and her head against his chest, Deke finally felt the calm relief he'd been looking for. He didn't want to talk. He just wanted to sit and hold her forever. “I've missed this.”
“Me too.” She slid her hand inside his beater. “What are we going to do, Deke?”
“I dunno, baby girl.” He kissed the top of her head. “Where did you go?”
“Nowhere, really. I drove for a while, and sat and looked at the ocean. I just needed to get my head straight.”
“Did it work?”
She laughed and snuggled closer. “Not really. I think we've reached an impasse.”
“You know I love you?”
“Yeah. I love you too.” She sat up and began to roll a joint. “Maybe if I quit painting and – I dunno – took a regular job, with childcare or something...”
“No. Painting is as much a part of you as my patch is a part of me. I'm gonna call Jez. Tell him that I'm gonna stay home for a while. I won't promise that I won't go back out there. Things are getting pretty heavy, and it could get worse, but for now they'll have to manage without me. I'm not giving up my nomad patch, though. I did some shit that wasn't sanctioned by the club. If what I did blows back, I don't want Bugs in the firing line.”
“You did something to hurt the club?”
He shook his head. “No, I did something to save the club. And I wasn't really in a position to refuse.”
“Does this put you in danger?�
�
“No more'n usual, baby girl.” He took the finished joint from her and laid it on the coffee table. “I've been an idiot, Emma. I had to do what I did, the guy calling the shots is a very powerful man. But I should've come straight home to you. I kept telling myself I was doing shit to keep you safe, but the fact is, I got swept up by it all.” He ran his finger along the scar on her cheek. “You should've told me how much you were struggling.” He chuckled. “I'm tearing my hair out after just one day. Ain't kids Lottie's age supposed to take a nap?”
FIFTY
Had they resolved anything? Emma shifted Lottie onto her other hip and grinned as Deke and the goat engaged in their latest battle for supremacy. No, of course they hadn't – their issues were unresolvable – but they loved each other and they wanted to be together, so the bad times had to be ridden out for the sake of times like these.
It had taken a week of arguing and making up to get to where they were now, but finally things were back as they should be... until the next time. She fought the urge to cover Lottie's ears as a stream of curses came from the direction of the goat pen, and Sammy trotted triumphantly back to the vegetable patch. Deke looked over and scowled. “This is your doing, woman.”
Emma laughed and rustled the paper bag in her pocket. Immediately Sammy stopped, turned around and trotted to his pen to await his candy. “You have to think like a goat, Deke. Sammy is a hedonist. He has perfectly good food in his pen, but he thinks the vegetables will be better, so he spends much of his life trying to figure out how to get at them. And once he gets to them, he will do whatever it takes to stay there. However, candy is his most favorite thing in the world, but he has to go back in his pen to get it, so he'll throw away all that hard work for one tiny piece of chocolate. I'll fix the latest breach, and we start all over again.” She secured the gate and gave Sammy his treat. “Life's too short to spend it chasing goats.”
“Reckon I know plenty of people like that.” He kissed her and took Lottie. “I need to head into Seattle later. I need some parts, and I wanna swing by Bugs' place. I'll take this one with me.”
