When I'm With You (Little Hollow #2)

by Danielle Dickson

  “Let me off, right now!” He grinds out through clenched teeth. I pretend I can’t hear him. “I’m not kiddin’ around, Hunter. Stop the bike.”

  “We’re here, whether you like it or not!” I shout behind me.

  “You can’t make me go in there,” he sneers as I park up outside.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Stop acting like a kid, you’re gonna have to go in there sometime.”

  “The hell I do!” He shouts, making a couple passing by stare at us.

  I lower my voice to a menacing whisper. “That’s enough. I’m going in, whether you come with me or not, I don’t care. Just wait here if you’re going to act like a pussy.”

  I don’t wait for a reply, I just walk off toward the gates, flowers in my hand. I find her plot and run my fingers over her headstone.

  “Hey, mom, I brought you your favorites.” I pick up the dead flowers and clean up the area in front of the headstone before placing the new ones in their place. “Jacques is here too, but you know he won’t come in. He misses you, we all do.”

  I sigh and sit on the ground, one knee raised and my arms spread out behind me propping me up. “There’s something going on with him but he won’t tell me. I wanna help, but I can’t make him, yano?”

  I close my eyes. “God, I wish you were here. I feel like everything around me is going to shit… sorry, mom, I didn’t mean to curse. I just feel like no one cares about the club anymore, not even pop. I’m sure you can see everything that’s happening, although that’s creepy to think about.”

  “It is pretty creepy.”

  I turn my head at my brothers voice. He’s staring, wide eyed at her headstone but doesn’t make a move, and I don’t push him on it.

  “So as I was saying, the club isn’t worth anything anymore, our chapter at least. I seem to be getting into trouble with Tank more and more these days, all because I want things to change but it feels like I’m hitting my head against a brick wall. If you’ve got some words of motherly wisdom, now would be the time to tell me.”

  Jacques snorts and I look at him. “What?”

  “You’re talking to a slab of marble, you know that right? Or are you going senile in your old age?” He quips nervously, and I laugh along with him.

  He takes the few steps toward me and sits down. “Hey, mom.”

  I wait for him to say more but he doesn’t, he picks at the grass with shaking fingers so I carry on.

  “You can probably see that Jacques is a little worse for wear today. He had a party for one last night and had to be tucked into bed by his big brother,” I tease.

  He shoves me in the arm. “He did not tuck me into bed, he wasn’t that nice. He didn’t even cover me with a blanket.”

  I snort. “Did you want me to sing you a fuckin’ lullaby as well?”

  “Well, yeah. That would’ve been real nice of you,” he smirks.

  “When did you start thinking you were funny?” I retort.

  “About the same time you started gettin’ boring.”

  He laughs at his joke, touche. I’ll let him have that, his mood seems to have shifted so I stand up and dust off my hands.

  “Are we leaving?” He asks, looking at the headstone apprehensively.

  “Nah, I gotta take a leak. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I walk off toward the gates, there’s a public toilet around the corner so it’s the perfect excuse. I don’t need to go, I just wanted to leave him alone with her.

  I know it’s not really her, but talking as if she’s listening has helped me a lot these past two years. I first came two weeks after her funeral.

  My heart has stopped beating, but that’s the least of my worries. My hands are sweating so much I’m scared they’re going to slip off the handlebars. I arrive and park up, not able to look at the cemetery gates. This isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing at nearly twenty-six years old. I’m meant to be taking these flowers home to her, not to her grave.

  My stomach churns and the three people that are visiting loved ones of their own all turn and stare at once as I make my way through the gates, or at least that’s what it feels like. I cling to the sunflowers in my hand as I try to reign in my emotions and keep my head forward, looking for her plot.

  I spot the headstone she picked out for herself and freeze in front of it, staring at the etched words.

  I drop to my knees lightly, not taking my eyes off the cold slab. “Hey, mom.” I don’t know what I’m expecting, but when I don’t get a reply, I break down. “It’s not the same without you around. Knowing you were going to die didn’t make it any easier like you said it would. We got to say goodbye but I think that’s what hurt more, watching you deteriorate and turn frail just about killed me. Fuck!” I slam my fist into the ground. “It’s not fair, you were one of the good ones.”

  After a few minutes of letting my emotions run free, I take deep breaths to steady my shaking hands. My chest heaves up and down as I start to get control of myself, I feel like a little boy again but I don’t care. I’ve never been one to shy away from showing my emotions no matter how hard pop’s tried to get me to hide them, it’s just not who I am. I’m hot headed and I’m not afraid to share my opinion about whatever is bothering me, if I’ve got something to say, I say it.

  “I know pop and Jacques still haven’t visited, but they will. They just need some more time I guess. But I had to come talk to you. I won’t tell you what’s been going on with them ‘cause you’ve probably already seen it. Shit, I can see you giving both of them a beating, I know I sure as hell want to.” I shake my head at the thought of walking in on my sixteen year old brother, sleeping with a club broad, in my bed.

  “I don’t really know what to say now, I feel pretty stupid talking to a slab of marble. I guess… I guess I just needed to be close to you.” I look down and play with my fingers. “I know I was never the perfect son, hell, I’ve made more mistakes in my twenty-five years than I’d like to admit. But I hope you know how much I loved you, fuck this is hard!”

  I wipe at my face and look up at her headstone once again. “I’m gonna head on out now, but I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

  I was so broken after she passed away and I found that coming here helped me heal a little. I look up and see the same distraught expression on Jacques’s face that must’ve been on mine that first time. I lean against a nearby tree and watch as Jacques talks animatedly, he laughs and then his face turns to anguish as he seems to whisper something, running his fingertips over the top of the headstone again. I take this as my cue to join him again.

  “You ready to go?”

  He looks at me, looking paler than he did earlier. “Yeah, I think so.”

  He gets up and turns and walks away, leaving me to say bye to mom. I kiss my fingertips, place them on top of the headstone, and whisper that I love her, telling her I’ll be back to see her real soon.

  As I approach my bike, Jacques doesn’t look at me, he keeps his head facing the other way and I don’t try talking to him, knowing he needs this time to process things. And by the look of things, he still isn’t feeling all too clever after last night.

  We ride back to the clubhouse in silence but on arrival, there’s a crowd of brothers all shouting the odds off in the car park.

  “You can’t fuckin’ do this, Taz.”

  “It’s not your clubhouse, Taz.”

  And then the familiar voice of my best friend, Smokey, chimes in. “Open the fuckin’ door, Taz, or I’ll break it down and then you’re next!”

  What the hell is going on?

  I push my way through to Smokey. “What’s this all about?”

  He thumps his fists against the clubhouse door before turning to me. “Taz, man! He’s fuckin’ locked us all out, tells us we can’t come in today.”

  “He’s done what?” The booming voice behind us makes Smokey turn slowly on the spot.

  I turn to face Pres. “Apparently, your brother is staging a one person lock in.” I raise my brows
at him sarcastically.

  “Move.” He pushes past us and starts banging on the door. “Merl, you open up this goddamn door or… Or I’ll fuckin’ take your title away.”

  Everyone in the car park turns eerily silent as the threat lingers in the air. My lip curls up in one corner, he’s finally fucked up enough that even his own brother can’t protect him anymore.

  “Fuck you, Daryl! This is just as much my clubhouse as it is yours!” Taz says, flinging the door open and squaring up to Pres.

  Pres straightens to his full six feet, he has three inches on him and we all wait on bated breath to see what’s gonna go down between the two brothers. “This is my clubhouse, don’t you forget it!”

  “I’m the VP of this club, don’t try act all high and fuckin’ mighty. You’ve relied on me-”

  He’s cut off when Pres grabs him by the throat and slams him up against the outside of the building. “You’re getting on my last nerve, brother.”

  Taz looks around everyone frantically. I don’t know what he’s looking for, no one is going to help him.

  “Don’t undermine me again, this is your only warning or so help me I’ll have your ass in the shed with Grim faster than you can say you’re sorry.” He throws him to the ground. “Now get the fuck out of our way!” He growls.

  The shed is the last place anyone wants to go, especially with Grim of all people. Its other name is the torture hut. Taz jumps up and stares us all down as we walk past. I can’t help it, I wink at him and he launches a fist at my mouth.

  “This is all on you!” He spits.

  Smokey and Jacques are by my side in an instant pulling him off me. They hold him in a vice grip but I motion for them to let him go.

  “I don’t have time for your piece of shit ass, I’ve got a job to get to.” I wipe the blood from my lip and smile sinisterly at him. “But don’t you worry, I’ll get you back for that cheap shot.” And with a wink, I walk on inside the clubhouse, Jacques and Smokey on my tail.

  “You really pissed him off with this whole VP thing, huh?” Jacques says on a laugh.

  I laugh along with him. “Ain’t nothing I can’t handle, he’s a piece of shit.”

  Jacques doesn’t say anything else, he just looks about the place looking a little lost.

  “What you moping around for? You’re hungover but you still have to do your duties. Get,” I say with a wink.

  “Yes, sir,” he groans, giving me a mock salute while rolling his eyes.

  “Bear?” I turn toward Smokey. “You around tonight?”

  He has that look in his eye that means he’s on the warpath. After keeping calm outside, I definitely need an outlet so I nod and smile knowingly back at him, he has a job that needs taking care of and I’m all over it.

  “Finish work at five,” I shout over my shoulder as I walk to my room, Jacques hot on my heels.

  “I’m coming,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “I thought I told you to go get your duties done?” I quip back.

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll get to ‘em. But I’m coming tonight.”

  I stop just inside my room and shove my hands on my hips. “Who said you were invited?”

  “Me.” He shrugs his shoulders and acts casual, but it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s shifty. He just doesn’t seem like himself.

  “Sure, just bring your A game little bro’.” He hates when I call him that.

  “Fuck you, Bear,” he says sarcastically.

  We’re the only ones who use each other’s birth given names, unless I’m talking to someone else about him that isn’t pop, so he knows I hate that road name.

  My face turns steely. “Get the fuck out, Jacques. And stay out of trouble until tonight!”

  I throw him his bike keys and he winks at me. “Always.”

  Although the humor in his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

  My nail snaps making my fourth mark. “Shit!”

  I wave my finger about in the air feebly like it’s going to stop the pain radiating through my nail bed. I’ve been here for four days now, but each second has felt like an eternity. I’m ninety percent sure my neck is infected, I have no energy, and I’m just plain fucking angry at myself for showing weakness in front of him.

  He’s always played off of weaknesses, my mom’s weakness was me. She couldn’t handle the thought of him hurting me like he did her, so she drank to block all the pain out. But if she loved me so much, then why did she leave me with this monster all those years ago?

  “Just spit it out, Kirsten. What you tryna say?” Dad grinds out.

  “I’m saying you’re on your own. I’m done living in the shadow of the club,” mom slurs.

  I’ve come home from school and found her packing suitcases with a bottle of vodka attached to her hand. She’s done this before, it’s nothing new so I just roll my eyes and walk past their room on the way to mine to dump my school bag before going back to watch this play out.

  At fourteen, it’s sad that it’s become the norm that my mom is never sober. I shouldn’t be used to cleaning up puke, cooking all our meals and learning to take care of myself from eight years old, but I did, and I do. This is just my life.

  “Oh yeah? And where are you goin’ this time?” Dad asks sarcastically.

  “Anywhere away from here,” she says, eyeing me with a strangled expression.

  “With what money? You ain’t got shit.” He laughs as he torments her.

  The steely determination in her face evident, she says, “I’ll work something out, but I’m not staying here a minute longer.”

  She eyes me again and I start to feel a flutter of panic as she picks up her suitcases. “What? You’re really going?” I blurt out. She doesn’t turn back around, just carries on walking to the front door. “Please don’t leave me here, take me with you.”

  I don’t want to be left here with my dad, he’s never here.

  “I can’t take you with me,” she says deadpan.

  I stand and walk toward her, she’s still facing the door with her back to me. “Why? Why would you leave me here with him!”

  “That’s enough, Keeley! I’ve done nothing but provide for this family. Do not make me have to force you to stay, Kirsten,” dad grinds out and I wince.

  Dad’s never really laid a finger on my mom, but he’s threatened it enough.

  I ignore him and so does she. “Please, mom. Please don’t leave,” I beg.

  “I’m sorry, sweet girl,” she breathes out, and walks out the door.

  I spin toward my dad, pointing out the door. “You’re just going to let her leave like that?”

  He lights up a cigarette and inhales before answering me. “Your mom isn’t going anywhere, she’ll be back. She always comes back.”

  But after a few weeks I think he started to realize it himself. She wasn’t coming back and that was the last time either of us saw her again. My uncle was furious and he stopped coming around as much which I guess was the only good thing about the whole situation.

  I shiver at the memory. She left me, just like that. It was that easy for her to just abandon her only child.

  I sit up straighter as the door creaks open, he’s not messing around today. He stalks up to me and grabs me by my tatty hair.

  “I saw your old fuck buddy today,” he sneers.

  He’s left me confused and I stare at him open mouthed, not knowing what he’s talking about. “He’s trying to turn everyone against me, thinks he can take my position at the club.” He says it like he’s talking to himself. “If he’s going to take away something from me, I’m going to take away something from him.”

  He has a crazed look in his eyes as he stares me down.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I don’t have anything to do with the club anymore!” I shout.

  He’s completely ignoring me, in one of his headspaces that he’s just not listening. “I watched you with him, always with him, yet he never made you his Old Lady.” He smirks at m
e. “He always saw you for the whore you are, you were never worth anything else than that.”

  He stalks to the other side of the room and laughs. Now I’m even more confused, I was never with anyone from the club, unless…

  “Bear will not turn my brother against me!” He shouts and my suspicions are confirmed. He’s talking about Hunter. “And… he’ll never have you again,” he whispers menacingly. I back away as much as I can into the corner, pressing myself against the wall. “I failed to get in those panties of yours before, it won’t happen again!”

  He pounces and grabs my hair, dragging me across the floor, my scalp burning with pain. “You’re a whore, just like your mom. So I’m going to treat you like one.”

  I fight with all the adrenaline that is pumping through me, clawing at his hands as he pins me to the dirty mattress that I’ve desperately tried to stay away from. I kick out and writhe underneath him, pausing briefly when I hear the sound of him undoing his belt. No!

  “Get off me!” I screech over and over again, never letting my onslaught of fists and legs stop. I can’t let him do this to me, I’ve got away from him before, I can do it again.

  I tap my foot to the beat of Hell Yeah by Rev Theory as I fold up the laundry, the beat of the heavy drums flooding through me, energizing me. My boss sent me home early from work today, the salon wasn’t busy like normal so there was no point in us all being there, so I readily ‘volunteered’ to come home.

  Dad’s most likely at the club and won’t be back until late tonight so I have the house to myself to get some much needed housework done. The music changes tempo and I start shaking my hips when the beat kicks in to Baby Got Back.

  “Nice moves, Sir Mixalot.”

  I gasp and spin around, flushing red at the sight of Hunter leaning up against the doorframe to the utility room.

  “How long have you been stood there for?” I ask wide eyed.

  He laughs. “Longer than you want to know.”

  I want to die from embarrassment!

  He’s chuckling to himself and I throw a towel at his head. “Sir Mixalot ain’t got nothin’ on me.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t give up your day job just yet,” he laughs out and shields his face from another round of laundry headed his way. “You busy?”