Slate (Rebel Wayfarers MC)

by MariaLisa deMora

  A gruff voice called from the porch, “You in the right place, man?”

  Andy grinned. “I think so. Is Blackie here? I’m told he’s around most days.”

  “You don’t fucking know me, motherfucker,” the same gruff voice called. “Don’t have my name in your mouth if you don’t know me.”

  “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to offend,” Andy called towards the house. “I brought a friend to visit you.” Andy leaned his head to one side as a tall, stocky man stepped to the edge of the porch.

  The man ran his hands through his hair, disheveling it as he peered down the driveway to where they sat. He froze for a second, squinting, and then he shouted with pleasure, “Peaches! Fuck me running, baby girl. Where the hell have you been?” Blackie jumped off the porch, and his long legs ate up the distance between the porch and the bike.

  Lottie reached out her hand and Andy gripped it, steadying her as she dismounted. She turned her back to the approaching man, taking off her helmet and setting it down. Andy tilted the bike over, resting it on the kickstand as he grinned back towards her.

  He didn’t see Blackie’s face when she turned around and he recognized her condition, so Andy was totally blindsided when a huge fist landed on the side of his head, knocking him sideways and off the bike.

  His head was buzzing loudly, and he couldn’t get his bearings as he lay on the gravel of the driveway. He tried to slap the hits away as they came, pounding into his ribs and his head. Dimly, from far away, he heard shouting, and gradually the beating ceased, and then hands were helping him up.

  He brushed the hands away, taking an unsteady step backwards, tripping, and being pulled back upright by hands under his arms. The men released him again and stepped to the side, out of reach.

  Shaking his head sharply, he squinted to focus on the man in front of him. Blackie was holding Lottie carefully, like she was china and about to break. He was smiling joyfully down at her face, running his hands over her shoulders and arms, and then back up again to cup her cheek. It looked like he was memorizing her, or remembering her. Either way, it was an indescribably sweet and tender moment. He cared for her a great deal; that much was obvious.

  “Fuck me,” Andy groaned. “Was that fucking necessary?”

  Blackie had the grace to look a little sheepish and apologized, “Awww, sorry, brother. All I saw was Peaches knocked up, and I saw red, man. That shit caught me totally off-guard—first, seeing her after so long, and then like this.” He placed a large hand over her belly, and looked down into her face as his tone softened again. “Missed you, babe. Missed you a fuckuva lot.”

  He scowled back over at Andy, his face darkening alarmingly. “Is this your baby, you son of a bitch? I don’t see no fucking ring on her finger. You ashamed of your woman? She your old lady, motherfucker, and you’re ashamed of her?”

  Andy put up his palms. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let Lottie talk, man. It’s not my kid; I’m a friend. It’s all good.”

  Lottie was grinning up at Blackie, waiting on him to look at her again before she spoke. “Hey you,” she said, and snuggled her face into his chest, “Andy was my ride here to see you; he’s not the baby’s daddy, Blackie. Don’t hit him anymore, okay?”

  Andy echoed, “Yeah, don’t hit me anymore.”

  Blackie tipped her chin up with his fingertips, his eyes searching her face for something. He must have found it, because his face darkened again as he said, “Come inside, Peaches. Let’s go have a chat with your friend, Andy. You were riding tail on his fucking Indian, goddammit.” Frowning, he reached a hand out and grabbed Andy’s shirt, half-dragging him towards the house with them. “That needs a chat.”

  They swept through the door and through the front room, where a dozen bikers lounged around on couches and chairs, and a few women scattered among them. Blackie kept going beyond what looked like a meeting room with a bar in the back, and into a kitchen on the backside of the house. He carefully sat Lottie down in a chair, and then dropped a kettle on the stove, pulling out a mug and teabag. Glancing at Andy, he asked, “Beer, coffee?”

  Andy gave him a chin lift. “Beer.”

  Voice soft, Lottie asked, “You still have my tea, Blackie?” The big man looked at her and nodded, not speaking. He reached into the refrigerator, bringing out two dark brown bottles of beer, opening them one at a time with a sharp rap of the lid against the countertop. Handing one to Andy, he laughed. “You got balls—I’ll give you that, brother—riding up to the clubhouse without an invitation like that.” He took a long drink. “You’re lucky we were in an obliging mood; otherwise, it could have gone sideways for you.”

  Andy nodded, curled the corners of his mouth down indifferently, and muttered, “Fuck me, that in the driveway wasn’t sideways, then? Seriously, not sideways?” He joined Blackie in a short round of laughter, holding his ribs.

  The kettle started to whistle and Blackie gestured to a chair. “Sit.” Turning around and making tea for Lottie, he brought her cup to the table and sat down across from Andy. He was close enough beside her that their thighs were pressed together.

  Sighing deeply, Blackie looked at her. “Peaches, talk to me, baby girl. If it’s not this guy, then who? It’s not your fucking ex; I know that for dead certain.”

  Andy saw her blanch as she swallowed hard. Lifting her chin, she held Blackie’s gaze. “The father isn’t in the picture. He’s in Ohio. It wasn’t anything bad, simply failed birth control. Neither of us wanted this, but here it is, and here he’s not. Blackie, I’ve missed you, but I was ashamed to come back after how I left the last time. I know what Sarge’s old lady said about me, and she was right. I didn’t want the same things you did. Me turning you down wasn’t disrespectful, but it was near enough to make it hard to come back once I realized I’d made a mistake.”

  An outside observer, Andy took small sips of his beer as the two of them talked. Blackie moved restlessly as he listened to her. He stood, turned his chair around, and crossed his arms on the back of it, leaning forward to rest his chin on his arms. She continued, “Then, when I knew I was pregnant, I had nothing to offer you anymore. I couldn’t saddle you with some other man’s baby, and I won’t give it up. I may not have wanted the pregnancy, but I want this child—”

  “What do you mean nothing to offer me, Peaches? Are you fucking nuts, baby?” Picking up his head, Blackie interrupted her, waving off her disagreement with a swipe of his hand. “You think that because you had some other guy’s dick in you that you wouldn’t matter to me? You think for one minute I’d turn you away, because you are growing a little one in your belly? Baby girl, you know me better than that, and I fucking know you do. I fucking love kids, and I fucking love you.” He tipped his head sideways, looking strangely boyish as he held that position. “I fucking love you.” His eyes closed and he reached out a hand blindly. Lottie gripped it tightly, bringing the back of his hand to her lips and kissing it softly. “It’s not your baby, Blackie. I can’t ask you to take that on.”

  “Well, it’s fucking fortunate for me you can’t tell me not to take it on, either.” He grinned and used their joined hands to pull her closer. “If you want them, my arms are right here waiting on you and your babe. Right here, always. From your belly to the breakfast table, I want everything you’ll give me. Every fucking thing.” He kissed her softly, curling one hand around the back of her neck, and Andy felt like a voyeur. Blackie’s love was written so plainly on his face.

  “Reena was jealous, baby,” he spoke quietly, his hand tight on her neck. “I knew you weren’t trying to play with me like that. You weren’t ready for what I wanted, but I was willing to wait. I was waiting. I would have waited for-fucking-ever. Your ex fucked up a lot of things, including anything we could have had back then. We both know he’s not around anymore though, so we can make up lost time, if you aren’t against it.” He slid his hand down her shoulder and over her arm, holding onto her.

  “Blackie, I need to talk to Daddy. Mom is so much worse now; I don
’t want to leave him if he needs me.” She looked at Andy, and then back to Blackie. “Andy can take me back to my parents’ house. You’ll need to talk to the chapter about me; I know that. I’m nearly full-term too, so consider what that means. I’ve messed things up so badly, but, oh...I missed you so much.”

  “Any of that is doable, baby girl. It’s all doable. I promise you.” He looked at her for a minute. “You got anything to say, Rabbit?” Blackie’s head swiveled to Andy.

  “Umm…Peaches? That’s an interesting road name.”

  Shouting with laughter, Blackie reached over and swiped the empty bottle out of Andy’s hand. “You get a look at her, brother? That skin, soft as a baby’s butt. So...Peaches.”

  Andy nodded. “Ah, gotcha. Um...Rabbit?”

  Laughing again, Blackie explained, “Motherfucker, you took a hell of a beating and kept on going, like that battery bunny.”

  “Yeah, I guess better Rabbit than Bunny. Ugh, but...I like Rocky better,” he said and grinned.

  The afternoon wore on, filled with pleasant conversations as club members drifted in and out of the house and kitchen. It was clear Lottie had been a favorite with the folks here, and she was genuinely happy to reacquaint herself with them. As the sunlight slanted steeply across the sky, Andy realized they probably needed to head back soon.

  Lottie was busy talking with a couple of women, so he stood and gestured at Blackie to follow. They stepped out of the house onto the porch, and stood looking at the bikes gathered in the yard. Andy stuck out his hand. “I’ll be taking her home soon, but won’t be back here, Blackie. I’m headed out tomorrow; I haven’t found my spot yet, so I’ll keep going east for a while.” Clasping hands, Blackie pulled him into a one-shouldered hug, pounding his back with his free fist.

  “Motherfucker, I’m glad you brought her. I am truly sorry for the pounding, but you have no idea what it was like to have her drop out of the world for months, and then to show up on the back of another fucker’s bike and pregnant. Goddammit, Rocky, that shit pissed me off,” he shook his head, “really pissed me off. Sorry again, brother. No hard feelings, yeah?”

  Andy laughed quietly. “No hard feelings, Blackie, honestly. I do have a question for you,” Andy started, and Blackie looked at him. “What happened to Lottie? She gets lost in herself sometimes and won’t speak up, won’t meet your eyes.”

  Blackie shook his head. “Her fucking ex was an asshole of giant proportions. Married her when she was sixteen, divorced by seventeen, but he wouldn’t leave her alone. That’s how I met her; she started working in our bar as an emancipated adult at seventeen…a fucking biker bar at seventeen. First time I saw her, she looked like a fucking raccoon, goddamn black eyes and busted nose.

  “We settled her into the bar and the club, and I made it my fucking mission to find out what was happening with her.” Blackie growled, “She’d flinch if you looked at her. Fucking flinch, man. And talking to her? Nearly impossible to keep her eyes. It took me two fucking years to get her to trust me.”

  Andy shook his head. He’d thought the story was probably like this, but it sounded more brutal than he’d expected. “What happened? Where is the ex now?” he asked.

  Blackie turned to look at him, his face stony and rigid with anger. “Put the motherfucker in the ground. He came in the bar one night; I was there. Took care of business.”

  Andy nodded. “Good fucking deal.”

  They stood in silence for a minute, looking back out at the bikes until Blackie broke the quiet. “Ever think about patching into a club, man? It’s lonely riding the road by yourself. When you’re in an MC, you always have your brothers to back you up. They’re your family.”

  “Thought about it, but haven’t found my spot yet, like I said. It’ll come I’m sure, but I’ve not found it yet.” Andy stretched his arms over his head, wincing as his ribs argued with the movement.

  Blackie nodded at him. “Keep it in mind, brother. If you need anything, you can always call on me until you have your own rocker and patch. Happy to help, man. Happy to.”

  ***

  Andy and Lottie were riding back to her parents’ house. She seemed quietly nervous, but her smile was still a mile wide. “Andy, how did you know there was still a place for me there?” She leaned up as close as she could, talking into his ear, her hands holding tight to his shoulders.

  He shrugged. “It was something you said about Blackie when I first met you, that he would have killed anyone that touched you. One thing I’ve learned is that bikers don’t let their fear drive their lives, and they are loyal to a fault. He could not have turned that off and on at will, no matter what you thought,” he glanced back at her, “and you simply needed someone to point the way.”

  Andy sat outside for a long time that night, letting Lottie speak privately with her dad. Dammit Dog had finally warmed up to him, and she lay down next to his chair, letting him trail his fingers up and down her spine. Creaking, the door opened behind him, and the dog abandoned him with a lurch, going over to rub against Randall’s legs. Scuffing the porch with its legs, he dragged a chair noisily over beside Andy, sitting heavily into it. “She needs this,” he said, leaning forward and scrubbing his cheeks with one hand.

  It seemed as much a question as a statement, and Andy nodded. “I think she does.”

  Randall leaned back in the chair, folding his hands across his stomach. “You think he’ll be good to her and the baby girl?” He was seeking reassurance for something he already knew.

  “Yeah, I do,” Andy said. “You should have seen him today when he thought she had been disrespected by me.” Rubbing his ribs, he told her dad, “He’s protective of her, and his love shines through everything he does. He’ll do right by her, yeah.”

  Sitting in silence for a time, Randall shifted. “I’m headed up to bed, Andy.” He stood and reached out a hand. “I’ll say goodbye now; I don’t think I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Andy stood, accepting the handshake. “It’s been a pleasure, sir. Thank you again for your hospitality and trust.”

  Randall looked at him. “I think I need to thank you, son. She hasn’t smiled like that for months.”

  Settling back into his chair, Andy made a quick call, and then stayed on the porch until he was fairly sure Lottie would have already gone to bed. Walking quietly up the hallway, he saw her door was closed and smiled ruefully, knowing it was for the best. He pushed his door open, and was surprised by a sleeping Charlotte curled up on his bed.

  Smiling down at her for a minute, he snuggled in behind her, lifting her heavy hair off her neck to kiss her softly. Andy wrapped one arm around her, laying his hand tenderly on her round belly, and fell asleep feeling her baby girl move languidly inside her.

  Up early the next morning, Andy had his now usual coffee on the back porch, and Lottie came to sit with him. They spoke about yesterday, her hopes for the future, and a little bit about her fears.

  When they were finished, he packed his things carefully, taking them out to the bike. Charlotte and Dammit Dog were standing, watching him closely. While he was tightening the straps on the bags, he heard the unmistakable sound of several motorcycles approaching from up the road.

  Straightening and stretching, he watched as Blackie led five other bikes into the driveway. The bikers were a mix of individuals and couples, and they all stepped off their rides to stand beside them, looking around. Charlotte had a puzzled look on her face, and she reached for Blackie’s hand.

  Blackie wrapped her up in his arms. “Baby girl, how’s my baby girl?”

  “Hey, you,” she said softly, lifting her face for a kiss, “I’m good, Blackie—so good, now.” She waved at the others as he turned her to face them.

  “We all want you, Peaches…not one nay vote, baby. If you want us, you have us.”

  Andy watched the tension leave her body; she seemed to sag for a minute, and then that bright smile lit up her face. She looked from one person to the next, giving them her thanks wordlessly and h
onestly. He cleared his throat. “Y’all riding with me for a bit, or headed back to Longview right away?”

  Blackie chuckled. “Brother, we gotta escort you out of our territory. We’ll ride with you to Mount Pleasant, and then from there, you are on your own, my friend. You ready to ride?” He looked down at Lottie. “How about you, baby girl? You ready to ride tail with me for a while?”

  Reaching out to grab a helmet from Blackie’s bike, she strapped it on and looked up at him laughing. “What are you waiting for, baby?”

  The grin on his face said it all, and they all began mounting bikes and getting ready to ride.

  Thirty minutes later, Blackie slowed down beside Andy, waving low. Lottie blew him a kiss, waving broadly, and Andy returned the wave, knowing they were about to leave him. Blackie raised one hand and made a turning gesture, and the group of bikes pulled off onto the shoulder, turning back down the highway towards their clubhouse and homes. Andy lifted one hand, watching them in his mirrors for a minute, and then turning his eyes forward again, he headed up the road.

  That night, he stopped in Texarkana and found the tattoo artist Blackie had recommended. Walking in, he explained what he wanted and sat back in the chair for the now familiar routine. In the motel that night, he took off his shirt, seeing the compass drawn on the inside of his left wrist and forearm. It was classy looking, black, styled almost like a dream catcher, and it had a detailed feather tied to the south vane. Beside the longest arm of the compass was the saying ‘Never let your fear decide your fate’, and looking at it, he nodded. There were lessons everywhere he looked, each and every single fucking day.

  11 -

  Clarity

  After nearly six months in Memphis, you’d think he’d be used to the pilgrims. It seemed that every week there was some Elvis anniversary they flocked to. Each time he saw the lines waiting to get into Graceland—or the plane, or the cemetery—it still took him by surprise. There were conspiracy theory nuts, who would try and convince you the government had killed off The King, or the alien abduction theorists, among a dozen others, but he couldn’t bring himself to give any of them the time of day.