Oh. My. God. This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Bear’s angry at Dad for getting him sexually aroused, and he’s concerned I wouldn’t like him. That’s endearing as hell, isn’t it? I mean, big, bad, Bear, with all those wild tattoos, prez of a club, and he’s worried about me liking him? I don’t know many bikers, but if you told me they cared this much, I wouldn’t have believed ya.
Covering my mouth with my hand, I giggle behind my fingers, smiling.
In the dimness of the firelight that’s casting shadows over his face, I catch the exaggerated roll of Dad’s eyes. “You worry too much about everything.” His tone is composed. “She’s my daughter. I love her very much. And I love you, too, ya big fuckin’ softie. Of course, she’s gonna love you. You’re bein’ paranoid. Like always.”
“She didn’t know you were gay,” Bear declares.
“She does now. Since you fuckin’ told her.”
Kade kneels on one knee, whispering into my ear. “Creeper said they’ve been arguin’ about this all day.”
My breath catches for a beat.
“About tellin’ me?”
His hot breath fans across my cheek, sending a fresh batch of gooseflesh down my frame. “It doesn’t bother ya, does it?”
“That my dad is gay?” I mutter.
“Yeah.”
It’s sad that in this day and age people have to ask anybody that. I work with a lesbian couple, and my new neighbor, the one who bought the house that Brent lived in, is gay. And I’m talking drag queen, teach-me-how-to-do-makeup, put-me-to-shame-in-beauty gay. One of these days, whenever I snatch up the courage, I’m going to ask Anthony to teach me how to wear makeup like he does. It’s gorgeous, and not so over the top, you wince. He bought the place two years ago, and he’s the best neighbor I’ve ever had. Plus, the girls love the crap out of him. Mainly because every time he decides he doesn’t like one of his sparkly outfits, he donates it to my daughters, who love playing dress up. That might sound weird to some people. Nonetheless, we love Anthony and bake him cookies for his birthday and Christmas every year.
So no; I don’t really care if my dad is gay. I care more about the fact that he’s not been in my life. That he had to fake his death. That he didn’t come for me. There’s just too many variables that matter more than someone loving someone of the same sex. Maybe I'm too flippant about all this. Or the more obvious choice is that I still feel like this is a dream I’ll eventually wake up from. I can’t decide which. Most people would probably be freaking the hell out. I probably should be, too. But I’m not. Life is too short to get angry about someone’s sexual preference. My father or not. It makes no difference. He’s alive. That’s what I’m choosing to focus on. Not the sting of betrayal that lingers under the surface for losing all these years together.
Turning the tables on Kade, I test, “Do you care that your dad is gay?”
“He’s not gay. And no,” he explains.
“What?!” I whisper-scream, frowning, as I watch my dad and Bear get off the ground to retake their seats.
“He’s bisexual and has been since I was a kid. Let them tell you all about it. I just came by to make sure everything was okay.” He kisses my cheek and saunters off before I can get another word in edgewise.
“Sorry about that.” Bear is the first to speak. “I’m not usually that careless with words.”
“Yes, he is,” Dad adds with a pleased smile. “The club, he runs with an iron fist. But when it comes to family, he’s a big fuckin’ teddy bear.”
Wiping his blood encrusted lips with the back of his hand, Bear grumbles his disagreement, adding a few choice cuss words into the mix.
“Soooo.” I toss my paper plate and fork into the flames and settle in for a long night of talking. There’s a lot I need to know.
Kade returns to our group momentarily to hand his Prez and VP two red cups of beer. They give their thanks, and he disappears again to perv on that tatted blonde.
Without hesitation, Dad cuts to the meat of the story. “I’m gay. Always been gay.” He holds his palm up. “And before ya ask why I married your mother and had you, listen to what I’ve got to say.”
Nodding, I wave him onward.
“I met your mom in high school, which you already know. We were friends. I was closeted, but knew I was battin’ for the same team, and she knew it, too. That’s why we got married. So both of our parents would get off our backs about settling down. We wanted a kid. Thank fuck it only took a handful of tries to get her knocked up. As I’m sure she told ya, I was into sellin’ drugs. She didn’t like it. Hell. I knew it was wrong, but it was bringin’ in the cash, so I didn’t wanna stop. That’s why she divorced me. She didn’t wanna get caught up in the drugs and go to jail if I ever got in trouble and they put her away for knowin’ about it. I didn’t blame her for that. And yeah, I loved her in my own way. Even felt betrayed she left me…”
“She left both of us,” I interject, recalling the devastation we both felt when she cut ties. My dad still loved her after their divorce. I thought he refused to date other women because of that. I guess not.
My grams has always been a traditional kinda woman. You get married and have babies right out of high school. Your husband takes care of you, and you’re a homemaker—cooking and cleaning for your family. Always having dinner on the table at six sharp. Starching and ironing your husband’s clothes, and never raising your voice in anger. Crap like that. It doesn’t surprise me that she put pressure on my dad. She did the same to my uncle and look where that ended up—him in a loveless marriage with a hag for a wife. I cannot stand my aunt or her offspring that are my cousins, who I refuse to claim as family. They’re all spoiled brats.
Though, for my mom, I suppose she married my dad because she grew up dirt poor. My grandma was a real piece of work, or so I’ve been told. She was a man-eater. Dating lots of married men—truck drivers mostly. She’s been gone now for quite some time. My mother had cut her out of our lives before she ran off to Vegas. I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree—like mother, like daughter … both man-eaters. It’s just sad that my parents couldn’t marry for love and did it out of convenience. That kinda sucks for me, too. I’m the product of a business transaction. Luckily, I broke that cycle, because my daughters were born out of all-consuming, make-your-heart-sing love. From my side of things, at least. I can’t speak for Asshole’s. And, frankly, his opinion doesn’t count.
“I didn’t know she’d do that. But I couldn’t change it. I kept you, so that’s all that mattered. She wanted outta that life. So she moved to Vegas. That was her deal. Not mine,” Dad says, seeming to settle more into the conversation, body lounging comfortably in his chair.
“Okay. So we know all about the mom stuff. She left. I hated her … blah … blah … blah…” I cut my hand through the air to skip those other painful parts, headed straight to the finale. “Then you died.” Even as I attempt to keep it under wraps, my emotions get the best of me. A sob curdles in my throat, choking my words. Dad’s face crumples and moisture gathers in his eyes, shining in the firelight. He wipes them away with the back of his hand, and Bear, who I didn’t think was paying attention, leans closer to squeeze my Dad’s shoulder.
Morosely, he bobs his head, lips tipped into a severe frown. “I died. Big Dick, the national prez, helped make that happen. I’m sure Bear told ya I can’t say much. ‘Cause I can’t. But what I can tell ya is that I got into some shit with some bad men. They threatened to take ya. So I went to the club and begged them to help me, help you…”
A stagnate pause has my heart beating faster, waiting for him to finish his story. Only it doesn’t come. His hands fumble in his lap instead, like he’s unsure of what to say next.
“And the rest is history?” I remark to circumvent the impending awkwardness.
Dad shrugs. It’s a sad, defeated one that makes me want to reach out and wrap him in my arms. “More or less, yeah. I’m sorry I can’t tell ya more
… That I did this shit to ya … That I ... fucked up your life.”
Those welling tears in his eyes drip down his cheeks, and he loses it, outright sobbing. Suddenly, a rush of emotion overtakes me, and I join in. A shattered wail of pain rips from my soul as wetness streams down my cheeks. I clutch my chest, bending forward as the culmination of all these years without him bear down on my heart. It hurts so badly. My vision blurs, glasses fog, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming as the pain of my past, that I locked up tight, tears open, leaving my raw insides to bleed out. I try to be strong, but it’s impossible. Hiccupping a hoarse cry, I crumble, losing myself, weeping through the shudders that wreak havoc over my body. A large form plucks me from the chair with ease and places me onto a set of strong legs. Curling my knees up, I burrow into the heat. The scent of leather, spicy musk, and sadness embraces my senses as arms hook around my body, hugging me so tightly that I fear I might break.
“I’m so sorry, Peanut,” my dad chokes, his body trembling in succession with mine. “I’m so, so, so, sorry. I love you so damn much.”
Draping my arms around his neck, stuffing my face against his collarbone, tears soaking into his shirt, I hang on for dear life, allowing myself to finally let go. To weep for the lost years, and the moments stolen from us. For my children not having a grandpa. I sob for myself and the little girl who was scarred by the loss of her father. I cry for my dad. For what could have been. Buckets of tears rain down as my heart gallops in my chest, my forehead sweating, soul bared, ready to dump this heavy burden into the waiting abyss.
It feels like hours as we hug each other, never wanting to let go or say goodbye. By the time the waterworks drip their very last drop, and I can finally take my first deep breath again—my guts feel mangled, face sticky with snot, and my eyes nearly swollen shut. Filling my lungs is cathartic, like I’m breathing in a new life. A new beginning. Kicking the fallen limbs of agony away from the base of my internal tree, I allow fresh limbs to grow anew. A sense of marrow-deep contentment seeps throughout me, making itself right at home.
For a few beautiful, unadulterated moments, we just breathe together, father and daughter. Until a buzzing heat sears into my flesh, bringing my head up from its daddy cocoon. It’s the warmth I feel when a specific someone is watching me. It’s Ryker. I know it. I can’t see him, but I can sense his presence. It fucks with my equilibrium, so I shake my head, clean my messy glasses off using my shirt, then snuggle back into my daddy’s lap, trying to ignore that itchy sensation. When I was younger, I used to relish in the fact that I knew when his eyes were on me. Now, it’s like a yeast infection that won’t go away.
A kiss is dropped into my damp hair. “I love you, Peanut. Please forgive me.”
Bottom lip wobbling, nose nuzzling against the wet cotton of his t-shirt, I reply a shaky, “I—I love you, too, Dad. And I forgive you.” Desperately, I hug him a little tighter. “I’m just happy you’re alive. And … it doesn’t matter to me if you like to be fucked in the ass. I like it, too. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Bear barks a throaty laugh beside us, and I want to slap myself in the face for saying one of the stupidest things aloud, once again. A humored rumble knocks around in my dad’s chest but doesn’t quite make it out of his mouth. “I don’t like to be fucked in the ass.” He gives me a squeeze. “But I’m happy to hear that you’re okay with it if I did.”
Well, I guess that answers the unspoken question. Which is none of my business. My father, the top. I would’ve never guessed that when looking at him and Bear. Wowza. That’s … okay … my thoughts are definitely not allowed to go there. We’re Switzerland, here. No toppy, bottom, gay thoughts permitted. Scrub, scrub, scrub. Erasing them from my vocabulary now. You should scrub yours, too, because I know what you’re thinkin’.
That flushed heat burns into the back of my neck, standing the hairs on end. To distract myself, I decide to ask more questions in the safety of my dad’s embrace. “How’d you and Bear get together?”
“I’d been here about four years. Already patched as VP when I came out.”
“They didn’t know you were gay?”
“Nope.”
“Did they care?”
“Some of ‘em did. This isn’t the most acceptin’ kinda club to be in. But Bear set ‘em straight. Told ‘em if they had a problem with me, they’d have to go through him. That he’d beat ‘em first, then dump their bodies in a fuckin’ ditch to bleed to death.”
I gasp. “He actually said that?”
“Sure did. At a fuckin’ party, no less. Two guys walked away. Didn’t wanna be in a club with no fag. Even though they never gave two fucks that Bear’s been openly bisexual since they’d met him. Guess me not likin’ tits was the deal breaker. So Bear tracked ‘em down, roughed ‘em up, burned their colors, and told ‘em they better never set foot ‘round here again, or he’d put a bullet between their eyes.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Bear?”
I have a hard time picturing that big man acting like a violent badass. Sure, he’s scary and intimidating in his own way. Yet, in another, he looks so damn cuddly all ya wanna do is snuggle into his warmth. I bet that’s what my dad does. A gooey sensation unfolds in my belly at the thought. My dad is happy here. And that’s all I can really hope for. This is his true home.
Dad snorts his amusement. “Yeah, we’re talkin’ about the same Bear. He’s ruthless if you’re disrespectful. I woulda helped him fuck those men up, too. If he would have let me. But, he was worried about us gettin’ caught. And with me bein’ dead and all, that doesn’t look too good to the police.”
“Makes sense.” I nod into his chest, loving the smell and committing it to memory, so when I have to leave tomorrow, I can remember it for always.
“He doesn't wanna admit this to ya, but I seduced him. So don’t go thinkin’ he was tryin’ to get with me or somethin’,” Bear comments gruffly.
Dad chuckles. “I’m tryin’ not to scar my daughter here, Bear. Don’t be layin’ it on thick. All you need to know, Peanut, is that we’re together. And that, for the most part, the members don’t care. Gay, bi, or otherwise, we’re still the same men. I hope you’re okay with that.”
Bear pipes up. “No. That ain’t all she needs to know. She needs to know that your club prez was naked in your bedroom—”
“Shut the hell up, Bear,” Dad growls, chest vibrating viciously at the seriousness of his words.
“…on his goddamn hands and knees, askin’ you to fuck me. That you told me no. But I ordered ya to…”
“I said, enough!”
Pressing my lips to his shirt, I curb a giggle.
I can’t believe I’m hearing this.
“…and ya still told me to fuck off. So I forced myself on you. And ya still fought me the entire motherfuckin’ time. He’s a stubborn bastard, darlin’. He wouldn’t have me for two years. Two. Damn. Years. He said we were too good of friends.” Glee dances in Bear’s tone, complementing that edge of adoring frustration.
Dad huffs in exasperation, his hand rubbing my side. “I can’t believe you fuckin’ told her that, you dumbass.”
I grin at their cute banter. It’s either that or truly wrap my head around all he’s confessed. My. Dad. Is. Gay. Not that I have a problem with that. But that’s a lot to take in, ya know? Just like everything else.
“What? People talk ‘round here. I didn’t want her to know, yet. But since you went and told her, I’m gonna tell her the rest. You can’t give half a story, Ghost.”
“It’s not half a fuckin’ story. She’s not one of the brothers we’re talkin’ to. It’s me not tellin’ my daughter how you basically raped me the first time we ever had sex.” He’s getting pissed. I know that quiet rage that lingers under the surface. He used that on me once, when I’d snuck out to kiss a boy when I was twelve. Needless to say, the kid never talked to me again, and I was grounded for a month. It sucked.
“I knew what I wanted. So I took
it. And I didn’t see your dick complainin’,” Bear snips.
Woo … Okay … Yeah … we’ve hit that TMI brick wall. It’s one thing to be open-minded. It’s another to hear about your dad’s erection. Yuck! Knowing he gets them is one thing. Hearing about it, quite another.
“Guys, I’ve had about enough sex talk to last me a lifetime. I get it. Bear seduced you. You finally gave in. Now you’re together. Simple as that. Don’t need to be hearing about no hard dicks. Or naked asses. I’m good. Thanks for the visual,” I groan despairingly, body shivering in disgust at the pictures floating in my brain. Icky. No more sex talk with my dad or Bear, ever again.
“See, and you wanted her to like you,” Dad admonishes.
“Wha … I … uh … I … shit … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get carried away.” Melancholy surges off Bear in strong waves.
I sit up in Dad’s lap, peering over his shoulder to look at prez. He’s scrubbing his beard, eyes downcast, a frown marring his features. “Hey. It’s not that big of a deal. I still like you, Bear. For bein’ such a badass, you sure are a softie, like Dad said.”
Bear’s shoulders lift and drop in a hefty shrug. “Yeah, well, it’s not every day that you meet the woman who bore your grandchildren, who also happens to be the love of your life’s daughter.”
Yep. I think I just melted into a big puddle of pink sugary goo. He’s so fucking sweet. It’s no wonder Kade’s his son. Not sure where Ryker came from, though. If he doesn’t stop staring at me from somewhere in this dimly lit yard, my hair’s liable to catch fire. At least Bear got lucky and had one decent son. Who, by my calculations, is having a damn good time getting his dick sucked. Sweet baby Jesus, who gets blowjobs out in the open like that? He’s standing in front of a tree just yards away, pumping into that Janet chick’s mouth. Beside that blonde is another woman on her knees, lapping at his nuts. Or, at least, I think that’s what she’s doing. There’s not enough lighting to tell, and Janet is taking him to the root, so I can’t see his length as it disappears into her throat. Either that or he’s puny just like they’d joked earlier today. My guess is that’s a lie. If he’s anything like his brother, he’s got a monster cock. Although, Janet’s lips aren’t about to burst at the seams. Which is a good thing. Bre—Ryker’s dick … I don’t know how anyone can suck. Then again I’m sure Vanessa does a fine job. I couldn’t. Some meat is just too thick to stuff into this gullet, no matter how hard I try.
Hopelessly Shattered (Sacred Sinners MC - Texas Chapter #1) Page 9
