A few months ago, he found me in the garage by myself, sitting on the couch that Tatum and I had our first and only sexual encounter on, nursing a fifth, and wishing like hell I was someone else than who I am. I honestly don’t remember what I said to him, but I do know the next day I had a text from him, checking to make sure I was okay. Since then, he’s invited me to do things with him and his wife, included me in things I haven’t been included in before, and generally been a friend. I’m more comfortable here now than I’ve ever been.
“I don’t know how you drink it straight.” I nod toward the cup he has in his hand.
“Puts hair on your chest.” He takes a drink with a straight face.
“If that’s the case, I don’t ever want hair on my chest.”
He laughs loudly as he turns back and walks toward the table. I normally don’t eat breakfast here, for a reason, and I’m reminded of it, as I take in everyone who’s had a seat.
All the brothers that are here and accounted for have a woman at their side; some of them have kids, too. Looks like even Tatum’s best friend Addie and her brother Caelin have made it over this morning.
The difference between me and them?
I’m alone. I have no one at my side. No family other than the people in this room and at a house over in a development about fifteen miles from here. I don’t know my place in life, I haven’t found my spot yet, and it’s a tough fucking place to be.
“Can you top mine off?” Tyler asks as he sees me put the coffee pot down.
“Sure.” I make to walk over and grab his cup when Jagger puts a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“Trust me man, don’t touch the cup.”
Everyone in the vicinity laughs, but I’m unsure as to why.
“It’s cursed,” Jagger whispers to me. “Take it from someone who found out the hard way. You do not touch Tyler Blackfoot’s skull mug.”
“He serious?” I jerk my thumb in his direction as I pose the question to everyone at the table.
“What do you think?” Tyler eyes me.
Without a word, I grab the coffee pot, top off the cup, and walk back over to set it down again.
“See y’all at the shop.” I wave a hand to them as I head out to the garage, taking my to-go cup with me, and hopping on my bike. I got enough shit going on in my life right now, I don’t need to be on the cursed side of Tyler Blackfoot.
I go take my breakfast where I always do. With Harper.
*
“Just me!” I yell as I make my way into the back of Harper’s bakery. She gets here early, usually around six a.m. to get started for the day.
“Was wondering when you’d get here.” She pops out from the cooler.
“Give me that.” I help her with the heavy tub she’s carrying. “Traffic was shitty this morning, sorry I’m a little late.”
“One day you won’t come here, you’ll have a woman at home cooking for you. I realize that.” She throws a grin my way. “But until then, I’ll gladly have breakfast with you in the morning. That being said, if you’re gonna be late, text me. I worry.” She leans in, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Got it.”
She reaches into one of her ovens, pulling out the best sausage biscuits I’ve literally ever had in my life.
“Grab us some drinks, and we’ll eat.”
I do as she told me to, pulling out her chair as she brings the plates over. As I always do, I moan when I take the first bite of the fluffy biscuit and taste the spice of the special sausage she gets. No one in my life has ever cooked like her, and no one has done it just for me every day. She and I share a bond I’m not sure I can explain to anyone. “How’s it going?”
She sighs, taking a much less enthusiastic bite of her breakfast, which isn’t like her. “I think Cash and I are going to stop trying for another baby.” Her voice is small, tight, and fucking sad.
“What? Why?” Cash hasn’t mentioned a word to me, but then again, I haven’t asked. I’ve avoided him for the most part since what happened between Tatum and me. I know his loyalty will always lie with me, but I hate to put him in the middle.
Tears pool in her eyes. “I got my period this morning. TMI, I know, but we’ve been trying for a year, Rem. Doing everything we’re supposed to do. We didn’t even have to try with Maddie, it just happened. Now that we feel like we’re in the spot to have another one, it’s not happening.”
“I’m sorry.” I reach out, grabbing her hand in mine.
“It’s okay, I mean we have one little girl who’s perfect.” She swallows a sob. “But I just wanted to have another one, ya know?”
I don’t really know, but I nod anyway. “It’s okay to be sad about it.”
“Cash is upset,” she reveals to me. “He acts like he’s not, but he is. The bitch about it? I don’t know if he’s upset that it’s not happening or that I’m putting myself through this every month. He keeps saying he’s happy with our lives.” She shrugs. “But I just don’t know what to do.”
“You two will figure it out. You have one of the strongest marriages I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“I know.” She wipes her eyes. “I know you’re right. Thank you for listening, Rem.”
We’re quiet for a few minutes, each mindlessly eating, alone in our own thoughts. The memory of the morning, feeling so out of place, slams my gut and makes me nervous. If there’s someone I trust with the question I’m about to ask – it’s Harper. “Is something wrong with me?”
“What? What do you mean?” There’s shock in her tone.
“This morning at the clubhouse, I looked around, seeing everyone with their families and women at their sides. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m the only one alone.” The words are hard to push against my tight throat. They’re a bitch to admit out loud.
“You have a family, Rem. You have us.”
“No.” I shake my head, needing her to understand. “You, Cash, and Maddie. You’re a family. I’m the half-brother, brother-in-law, and uncle who doesn’t have one full-blooded relative in this equation.
“Don’t think like that. You know none of us feel that way.”
“I do,” I say as I put my palm against my chest, feeling the familiar ache, deep in my breastbone. “I feel that way, and it hurts. Lately I’m feeling it more than normal.”
Carefully she takes a drink from her cup and lightly grasps my hand. “Does this have to do with Tatum? Do you want her to be your family?”
The question hits me hard in the gut. She’s gotten it all, with a few little sentences from me. I miss Tatum. That girl was my best friend. Even when I never let anyone get close to me, she was able to find out little snippets that I’d never told anyone else. The fact that I fucked it up weighs heavily on my mind.
“I do, and I’m not sure I can fix this clusterfuck she and I have found ourselves in.”
“Are you at least working on it?” She gives me a look. “You can’t expect change without making a change yourself.”
“I’m working on it,” I confirm. Reaching into my cut, I pull out an envelope. “This is her first note.”
Her eyes widen and a smile plays across her face. “Oh Remy, you took our advice.”
“Yeah, and I got some crazy looks when I went to that stationary store a few doors down. The woman looked at me like she wondered if I could even write.”
“You have to admit, the cut you wear makes some people afraid of you.”
I cut my eyes at her over the biscuit I’m polishing off. “That’s profiling and illegal.”
“Only for cops,” she retorts.
Glancing at the clock on my phone, I realize I gotta go if I’m going to make it work on time. “Thanks for breakfast, sis, but I gotta go.”
She stands, hugging me tightly. “Thanks for letting me cry this morning.”
“Hey.” I tilt her chin up to look into her eyes. “I love you in a purely platonic way, and if you need something, all you ever have to do is tell me.”’
�
��I know, just like all you ever have to do is tell me.”
*
The garage is busy as I pull in, even before opening. We have a couple of cars we didn’t finish yesterday and customers are dropping off work that needs to be done in the next few days. Jagger and Tyler are in essence directing traffic as I pull my bike around back and run to the office to clock in.
“Morning, Roni.” I give our bookkeeper, sister to Liam and wife to another member of our club, a smile.
“Morning, Rem.” She gives me one back as she watches me clock in. “Hope you’re ready to work today. This list keeps getting longer and longer.”
“I know, it’s never-ending, but that’s good for us, right?”
She nods. “Most of us older than you can remember lean times. Luckily for you, that’s not been the case since you patched in.”
Maybe not here, I want to tell her, but I have lived through lean times in my life. I’ll do whatever it takes to never have to live through those again. It’s a promise I made to myself, and one I never plan on breaking.
Giving her a wave, I go out to start my day.
“I don’t know why the hell you choose to do this,” Jagger grunts as he tries to loosen a bolt on the part he’s working on. “You’re one of the few of us who has a damn degree, and yet you choose to work here.”
The degree I got for Cash, because he’d worked so hard to give me that opportunity, but it hadn’t been what I’d wanted. He’d agreed if I got the degree, I could do whatever I wanted. And this was it.
“I can’t stand to be cooped up,” I explain. “So much of my early life I was stuck inside because of my allergies and asthma. I promised myself if given a chance, I’d live as much of my life as I could outside. I can breathe here; if I’m stuck in four walls all day, they start to close in,” I admit.
“We all have demons we have to deal with, choices we have to make,” Jagger grunts as he finally loosens the bolt. “Be glad you know what yours are as such a young guy.”
I don’t tell him I’ve known mine since I was around the age of eight.
At lunch, there’s a lull as everyone starts taking a break. Glancing across the street, I see Tatum leave to go get her lunch. “I’m running across the street,” I tell Jagger. “Be right back.”
“Take your time.”
Cash is about to lock the door as I open it. “Hey, Rem.” He lets me in, moving back.
“Hey, this’ll only take a few seconds. Just leaving this for Tatum.” I take the envelope out of my cut and put it on the counter so that she can see her name printed on the front when she returns.
He gives me a smile. “Proud of you, bro. You want it, you work for it.”
I give him a smile back. “Learned that from you. Nobody else cared enough to teach me.”
As I’m leaving, I reach out and give him a hug. “And if you and Harper never have another baby, just know that you’ve been more of a father figure to me than my own dad was. You may never get to have that son you want, but know even though you’re my brother, I love you way more than that.”
We don’t talk much about how I grew up – the hard times, the lean times – but the look on my brother’s face is shock.
“Thank you, Rem.”
“No,” I say as I shake my head, putting my hand on his shoulder, “I know you did things to make sure I had what I needed that weren’t always kosher. There were decisions you had to make and deals you had to negotiate to make sure I was taken care of. Don’t think for two seconds I don’t know that. I’m trying to say I appreciate it, and the life I have now wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
“I never did it for a thank you,” he whispers. “I did it because I love you.”
“And that right there.” I give him a small smile. “Is what makes you a great father. Whether it be to one, two, three, or even four kids. The amount isn’t going to change what you got here.” I put my hand over his heart.
“I hear you.” He sighs. “You talked to Harper I take it?”
“Yeah, and I think you need to talk to her, too. She’s worried and doesn’t think you’re being completely honest with her. You both need to be crystal clear on this second baby issue. Especially if you’re both so upset.”
The realization becomes clear in his eyes. “You mind watching Maddie tonight for a few hours? If we have this conversation, it doesn’t need to be in front of her.”
“I’ll be over right after work.”
“Love you, bro.” He gives me a black slapping hug.
“Same to you. Make sure Tatum gets that.” I point back to my envelope.
As I leave Cash’s shop, I hope like hell I’ve made the right decision. Chances are I’ll find out very soon.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tatum
Work isn’t my friend today after the party last night. I ended up drinking way too much and letting my brother Drew get me back to my and Addie’s apartment. Luckily, I don’t think my parents noticed, and if they did, they didn’t say anything. Drew left me a stern text message this morning, but that’s him, and I’m used to his judgement. I’ve been reveling in it since I was a kid. My brain is a little cloudy, so I went to the apartment and slept for forty-five minutes, instead of going to grab lunch. I’m hoping like hell it’ll make me feel less sick and more alive.
As I open the shop up and go back to the counter, I see an aqua blue and gray envelope sitting there, propped up against my stapler. I recognize the black ink scribbled on the front as Remy’s, and my name is on it.
Cash isn’t back yet, otherwise I would ask him when Remy showed up, why he did it when I wasn’t here, and what this envelope means. A part of me knows I should confront Remy, I should let things go, but we hurt each other so badly, and we’ve continued to hurt one another.
Remy isn’t the same guy he was last year, and I’m definitely not the same girl. He’s quieter, more of a loner (if that’s even possible), has gotten more tattoos (some hot as fuck ones on his neck) and let his hair grow out. Given the way he’s bulked up, I’m imagining he’s spending a lot of his time in the gym.
Me? I’m spending more time with Addie, hanging out with my parents, spending less time being the social butterfly I’ve always been, and trying like hell to find out who I am. I spent a semester at college and hated it, I won’t be going back. Yet, I haven’t found that one thing that’s mine yet.
Is Remy the thing that’s mine?
Flipping the envelope over in my hand, I carefully tear it open, not wanting to destroy anything he’s done. Nobody has ever given me anything in an envelope like this, and I can admit even if they did, it wouldn’t mean as much as it means right now.
My hands shake as I unfold the gray paper with polka dots on it. A grin plays on my lips. He knows me and my style so well, probably better than anyone besides Addie. The realization is a kick in the gut, since I basically said fuck you to those feelings last year when I slept with that other guy. If truth be told, I can’t believe he’s willing to overlook it, but if he’s willing to do so, then I’m okay with trying to figure out where we stand.
I love his handwriting, and for a moment, I stare at it, not actually seeing the words, but when I do, tears pool in my eyes and I choke back a sob.
Dark hair
Blue eyes
Dramatic flair
Passionate sighs
Remember every time I kissed you
Damn Tate, I fuckin’ miss you
The smile that played at my lips breaks into a huge grin as I read the words over and over again.
“I miss you, too.” Whispering the words to myself, I pull the paper closer to me, holding it like the precious object it is. I want to tell him, but a text feels so impersonal after what he’s just done for me. Talking face-to-face isn’t happening yet, and I like the idea of notes.
But I don’t wanna half-ass it. I want to put as much thought into it as he did for me.
“You okay?” Cash asks as he comes through the front door,
holding what looks to be my favorite coffee in his hand.
“Yeah.” I nod, surprised at how honest that answer is. I haven’t been okay for a long time. Truth be told, I’ve been going through the motions, being the strong girl everyone sees me as being, but I’ve been fucking lonely. I’ve needed something in my life. Something I wasn’t aware of until I got this letter. “I’m good.”
Cash hands me my coffee. “You looked like you could use this.”
“Thank you.” I take a large drink from the to-go cup, before I level him with a glare. “When did he drop it off?” I hold up the envelope.
“After you left for lunch. Did it say what you’ve been wanting it to say?”
I think about the question. For a year, I haven’t known what I wanted Remy to say, not really. Holding onto the hurt was enough, living with embarrassment and holding it in front of me like a shield. What’s in the envelope is an opening, a peace offering I never thought I’d have, made even more special by what he said to me last night. “Yeah, it was everything I wanted to hear,” I admit. “I just hope I’m able to express to him the things he’s expressed to me.”
“You’re a tough girl, Tate, because you’ve had to be. You have a reputation that precedes you. You’re the daughter of the president of the Heaven Hill MC, the only full-blooded one. Even if it doesn’t matter to you, it matters to other people. Many feel like if they can take you on, they’ve taken on the baddest bitch around, which is why you’re so tough. I don’t know if you realize this about yourself or not, but even though you’re nice, it’s that type of polite your grandmother teaches you. You know, the politeness you give strangers.” He takes a second and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to get to know the real Tatum.”
“It is.” I agree with him. “When I was younger, I was open to people, let them be my friends, and did things for them. Then I realized the only reason they wanted to be my friend was because of who my dad is. They wanted to see what it was like to have a sleepover at our house. Did he have guns? Did he keep his bike in the house? Did I ever see anything illegal? I went out with one guy for two months before I understood why we were going out.”
Hurricane Page 3
