by Sarah Osborn
Yeah. Car died. I'm waiting for a tow.
Bummer. She grinned. A man of few words.
I guess this means I'll have to play nice with Dad.
There was no response. Lottie leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. Her dad's behavior was beginning to freak her out. At least if he'd been yelling, she could yell back. But since Luke had arrived, he'd been distant. Cold, almost. And that was like a dagger to her heart.
She liked Luke. She really liked Luke. And she really didn't want to give whatever this was up.
But she couldn't lose her dad.
We gonna do it again? Lottie stared at the message, then closed her eyes again. Were they? Lottie? You still there? I really like you. I wanna see more of you.
The tow truck rounded the corner, and she slipped the cell into her pocket as she climbed out of her car. “Hey. I'm really sorry... Again.”
“Have you checked everything? I don't want tow it all the way to your dad's cuz you've run out of gas again.”
“I ran out of gas one time.” She folded her arms. “Take it to your place.”
“Nope. Your dad was very specific.” Trog grinned. “No one but him touches his little girl's car.”
~ oOo ~
Deke loved this.
Lottie had grown up with both her parents working from home and, from an early age, had spent much of her time in the workshop with him. Emma needed quiet to work, but he didn't. His workshop, however, wasn't exactly child friendly, so he'd quickly learned that the safest way to work was to involve her. He was pretty sure his was the only kid who'd started kindergarten able to not only name tools but be able to distinguish between their sizes.
Over the years, they'd fixed and restored countless bikes and cars, and she probably knew as much as him. He grinned as she poked around in the engine, muttering to herself. Who was he kidding? She probably knew more. He'd never had any formal training—just years of keeping his bike on the road, but through trial and error, he'd learned a lot over the years. And Lottie had learned with him.
She straightened up. “I think it's the distributor.”
“You sure?”
“No. But I know what it's not.”
She rubbed her nose, Deke grinned and wiped off the smudge of oil. She was so beautiful, tall like him, with bright blue eyes and her mother's smile. “I'm not gonna be able to get a distributor until Monday at the earliest. How about we take a ride into town, and pick up some takeout?”
“Okay. I'll go and get cleaned up.” She threw an oily rag at his direction. “You can tidy up here.”
He hadn't realized, until it buzzed, that she'd left her phone on the workbench. Looking around, furtively, he touched the screen.
Don't leave me hanging. I mean what I said, Lottie. I want to be with you.
Deke took a deep breath... And hit delete.
“What the Hell do you think you're doing?”
Oh shit. “I...” He almost flinched as Lottie's hand shot out and grabbed her cell.
“What did you just do?”
“I deleted a message. I...”
Lottie was her mother's daughter, and he braced himself for a tongue lashing, but she just blinked and turned around. “You don't get to do that, Dad. Ever.” She pulled her helmet and jacket from under the bench. “I'm gonna take a ride.”
~ oOo ~
“Lottie, love. Can I come in?”
Lottie sighed. “Yeah.”
She hadn't ridden for long. Going back to Seattle wasn't an option—it was getting dark, and her dad would worry if she rode at night—she'd just needed to clear her head. She hadn't been ready to talk to him, though, so as soon as she'd gotten home, she'd headed for the Princess house. It was kind of cold and leaky now, and there were mushrooms growing along the walls. But, just as her dad had his shop, and her mom, her studio, this had always been Lottie's space.
When she'd been a kid, her folks had completely stripped it and allowed her to decorate it and furnish however she wanted, and it had been everything from a magical castle to a spaceship. Now, the interior was painted white, and apart from some old garden furniture and packing cases, it was empty.
Lottie shuffled to one side of the love seat to make room for her mom. “No wine?”
“In the house.” Her mom patted her knee. “We'll drink when you've finished sulking.”
“I'm not sulking. I'm pissed. Dad had no right.”
“No, he didn't. It was a stupid thing to do. He's sorry, love.”
“So why is it you who's sitting here?” Lottie reached over to her stash tin on a wooden trunk that probably still contained all her old toys, and began to roll a joint.
“Tell me that's not your dad's weed. He checks, you know.” Lottie took the fifth, and her mom continued. “I'm here because I'm better at this shit than he is, apparently.”
This shit.
All she'd done was meet a guy whom she liked, and who happened to be the son of her dad's dead best friend. “You couldn't do worse. What is his problem, Mom? Why is he being like this?”
“Because he's scared.”
“What of?”
“Oh, Lottie.” He mom laid her hand on Lottie's cheek. “He's scared of everything. Getting old, not being able to ride. Letting you go.” She smiled. “Not letting you go.”
“I still don't get why he's so weird about Luke. What am I missing, Mom? And please don't say it's because he's Tiny's kid. That shit is getting really old.”
“You like him, don't you?”
Lottie leaned her head on her mom's shoulder and passed her the joint. “Yeah. But I don't want this to come between me and Dad.”
“It won't. He's just going a little overboard because—I'm sorry, but it's true—Luke is Tiny's kid.” She took a long pull on the joint. “Tiny always wanted him to follow in his footsteps.”
“Luke doesn't even ride, Mom. And he lives in LA.”
“Both of which could be rectified. And if they are, and he decides to take a shot at gaining his top rocker...”
“Which he won't.”
Her mom shrugged. “If he does. Your dad will probably sponsor him.” She sighed. “He doesn't want you to be an old lady, love. Neither of us do.”
“Jesus!” Lottie leapt to her feet. “What is wrong with you? I'm not even twenty, and me and Luke aren't even a thing.”
“But you like him.” Emma stood and cupped Lottie's face in her hands. “And he likes you.”
“What's so bad about being an ol' lady in any case? You and Dad are okay.”
“Yes, we are. But it's been a hard road. I don't want you to ever have to go through some of the stuff that we have.”
Lottie knew it had been rough for them at times, but after her dad got out of the joint, things had been really peaceful, and they'd been just like a regular family. “Did you ever think about walking away?”
“Sometimes.” Her mom smiled. “But then your dad would do something to remind me just how much I love him. He's good at that.”
“Are we talking about sex, here? Because if we are, this conversation stops right now.” Lottie rolled her eyes at her mom's grin. “I'm going into the house.”
Her dad was dozing in front of the TV. He grunted and opened his eyes as she sat next to him. “Am I forgiven?”
Lottie leaned against him, and he put his arm around her shoulders. “Not really. It was a stupid thing to do, Dad.” She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. “And pretty ineffective.”
“Yeah.” He sighed and kissed the top of her head. “I'm a lousy dad.”
“Only sometimes.” With her forefinger, she traced the faded tattoo of the viper on his forearm. “I'm going to go to LA for a while.” She felt him stiffen. “Before you get all bent out of shape, I'm not planning on making it permanent, but I like Luke, and he likes me. I think we need to spend some time together without...”
She loved her dad's laugh. “Without me breathing down your necks.”
“Yeah. I'm going t
o talk to Felix about taking some time off. I... I know you're worried, Dad, and I sort of get it. But when I'm with Luke, it feels...”
“Right?”
It did. Lottie didn't really think she was ready to settle down—she wasn't yet twenty, and there was a big wide world out there, but maybe she didn't need to explore it alone. Her eyes fell on the gold band on her dad's finger. “How did you know you were in love with Mom?”
“I dunno. She was just different. When I was with her, it felt...”
“Right?”
“Yeah.” He pulled her closer, and took a deep breath. “I ain't gonna fight you on this—mostly cuz I reckon I won't win—for as long as he treats you right, Luke is welcome here. But if he...”
Her dad was infuriating, overbearing and drove her nuts. But sometimes, he would do something to remind her just how much she loved him. Lottie threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Sometimes he was the best dad in the world.
NINETY-SIX
Lottie's idea that they spend time in LA was inspired. Luke grinned as she flopped down on the sand beside him and closed her eyes. Raising himself on one elbow, he began tracing the ink that covered her right arm. When he'd first seen it, it had looked like random swirls of color—kinda like her mom's painting—but on closer inspection, objects could be seen: paw prints, a wrench, flowers and butterflies. There was even a bright pink trailer and a chopper. He smiled; her whole life covered every inch of skin in a kaleidoscope of color.
He leaned over and kissed the double headed viper wrapped around a bunch of yellow flowers. “There isn't any room for me.”
She laughed and lifted her ink-free left arm. “I've saved an arm for you.”
“What will you put there?” He began working his way up her neck. “Apart from my big fat cock.”
Lottie shivered as he nibbled at her earlobe, and she giggled. “I was going to have that inked on my pinky.”
“Funny.” He kissed her temple—for some reason, that drove her nuts. “I guess you won't want any of my pinky dick, then.”
“Meh. Maybe. Although we have to be at your folks' place in less than an hour.” She opened one eye and trailed her finger along his chest. “Your mom is going to hate me.”
Luke didn't answer. He wasn't sure how this upcoming dinner was going to go. But he knew he and Lottie were together now, and he wasn't going to sneak around like he'd done something wrong. His mom hadn't reacted well to the news, but his dad, as always, talked her down, and suggested they get together.
“Won't make no difference to me.”
“I know.” She grabbed her dress and pulled it over her head. “We're gonna get shit from both sets of parents. We just have to weather the storm. They'll come around.”
Hers would, maybe.
~ oOo ~
Gripping tightly onto Luke's hand, Lottie allowed herself to be led across the small, but stylish front yard to Beth's door. “She's going to really, really hate me.”
“No, she won't. You're not your mom.”
“Nope. I'm just the woman who whisked her only son to Vegas and married him. Although I doubt she'll be as bad as Dad.”
“He'll've calmed down by the time we get to Seattle.” Luke squeezed her hand. “It's all good, let's just deal with one pissed parent at a time.”
“Yeah.” It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. No it was a good idea, although, with hindsight, maybe it could've been better executed. Both of them knew what they were going to hear: They were too young, they didn't know each other. He was Tiny's kid. She was her daughter. But they wanted to be together, and it wasn't as though there was ever going to be a happy family wedding.
He turned. “Regrets?”
“Nope.” She reached up and kissed his jaw. “None at all. Come on, let's go and get yelled at.”
~ oOo ~
Beth hadn't yelled.
Beth hadn't said one, single, solitary word.
Dinner had been... weird. The rest of Luke's family were welcoming enough. Henry had, of course, given them The Talk, and reprimanded them both for their impetuousness. But he had then hugged them both and wished them well. Alice was nice, and Lottie promised to learn how to sign, so next time they met, she wouldn't need an interpreter.
Lottie wasn't sure about Imi. They had plenty in common, but she figured that they'd either wind up as best buddies or hating each other's guts, and she didn't much care either way. Lottie had grown up as the only child of an outlaw biker and a hippy artist, living miles from anywhere. She'd never exactly been beating friends off with a stick, but she could honestly say she'd never once in her life felt lonely.
Beth hadn't even looked in her direction.
Fuck this shit.
She looked across the table at the woman opposite her and smiled. “I guess you're pretty mad at us, huh.”
“Yes. Although, given your upbringing, I'm not entirely surprised.”
Okay, then. She felt Luke stiffen and laid her hand on his thigh. “My upbringing? And what exactly would you know about that?”
“Lottie...”
“No, Luke. I'm sick of this.” Lottie turned her attention back to Beth. “C'mon, Beth. What have my folks ever done to you?” She pushed her chair back and stood up. “You know what? It doesn't matter. They're happy, and you're sad and bitter.” She leaned over with her hands flat on the table. “I'll tell you about my upbringing. I was raised to always be honest with my feelings. To not be afraid to express myself, and to love fearlessly. I love Luke, and he loves me. Maybe we should've waited, only time will tell. But if we'd waited ten years, you'd still have a stick up your ass, so we figured, what the hell. I'll never come between you and Luke, but in a week's time we'll be heading up to Seattle, so I suggest you get right with this. Because if you don't, you're going to drive your family away.”
“You're not my family.”
“Yes, I am. Whether you like it or not.” She straightened up and looked around the table. “Sorry. I'll leave.” Luke stood and took her hand and she shook her head. “Finish your meal, Luke. I'll go and wait outside.”
When the front door opened, Lottie expected it to be Luke, but to her surprise it was Beth who joined her on the hood of his car. “Joe would've loved you. You're a firebrand, like your mom.”
“Tiny and Mom didn't...”
Beth smiled, and suddenly looked years younger. “So everyone keeps telling me. But whether or not they did is irrelevant. Joe did love her, and I know if they'd both been free, something would've happened between them.” She sighed. “I guess I was always jealous of your mom. She was so much braver than I could ever be, and I always wanted Joe to love me like your dad loves her.”
Lottie grinned. “He does love her an awful lot.”
“You do realize that Luke won't be able to love you like that.”
Lottie had heard some pretty dumb statements, but that one topped the lot. Of course Luke wouldn't love her in the way her dad loved her mom. He was a different person, but that didn't make his love any less valid. She twisted the cheap silver ring on her finger and frowned. “Did you love Tiny?”
“Of course.”
“And Henry?”
Beth smiled. “Absolutely.”
“In the same way?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “Mom always says that you have to love yourself first. That if you're always pretending to be something you're not, then you can't expect to be loved for who you are. I know me and Luke are young, and we haven't known each other for long, but it feels right, and I know he loves me for who I am. We don't know if this will last, or if things will blow up in our faces somewhere down the line. But we're happy now. And it would be nice if you could be happy for us.”
“Yes, I'm sure it would. But I'm not happy for you, Lottie.” Beth slid off the hood. “I think you're both making a horrible mistake, and I refuse to give you my blessing.”
“Why are you being like this?” Lottie genuinely couldn't understand. “How can you not wa
nt what's best for your kid?”
“Oh my. You're as arrogant as your father.” Beth's laugh was completely without humor. “You really think I'd want my son with you.” She sneered as she looked Lottie up and down. “I bet you just can't wait for the club to ask him to prospect. I'm sure Daddy Dear has big plans for him. I'm giving you notice, Charlotte Samson. If he gets hurt, I will hold you responsible.”
Their eyes met. And then she saw it.
Beth was terrified.
Her dad was terrified.
Shit.
“Tell Luke I'll be back in a while. I've gotta take a drive.”
NINTY-SEVEN
What the hell were they thinking? Samson pounded his fists into the bag. When he got his hands on that fucking little worm, he was going to squeeze the life out of him. And Lottie... Fuck. Just for once, in his pathetic existence, it would be nice if one of his women showed him just a modicum of respect.
He wasn't just angry, he was hurt. He should have been there when his little girl got married, not gotten the news secondhand from his ol' lady. Shit, Lottie didn't even respect him enough to tell him herself. He'd given her everything, and she'd just thrown it all back in his face.
At some point, he was going to have to apologize to Emma; none of this had been her fault and he'd actually made her cry. But he'd needed to ride. And to hit something.
His shoulder was beginning to object, but Samson wasn't done, not even close. He needed... needed someone to bleed. His eyes fell on a lone prospect who was desperately trying to bulk up. “Ring. Now.” He picked up a roll of tape and threw it in the kid's general direction. “C'mon, prospect. Don't keep me waiting.”
“I... But... You... I...”
“Now, prospect.” Samson understood the kid's reticence. He was an old man, and it had been over ten years since he'd gotten in the ring with anyone. But he was also a long-standing member and probably had fifty pounds on the little runt. He grinned, baring his teeth. “What's the matter? Scared?”
“No, boss.” Finally, the kid showed some balls. “But I boxed for my regiment. I'll spar with you, but if all you're looking for is someone to hurt, you're gonna have to find some other sucker.”
