by Colbie Kay
Shit!
I sit back down on the toilet, cover my face with my hands and I cry. Sobs rake through me. My mom knocks on the bathroom door, and when I don't answer, she comes in to check on me.
She’s quiet for a moment. "Oh, Daphne." Her arms wrap around me, giving me comfort. "It's going to be okay. We'll figure this out."
"I'm sorry," I wail into her chest.
She rocks me back and forth, trying to soothe me, comfort me. "Shh. Your father and I love you no matter what. We will stand behind whatever you decide."
I pull away and lay my tear-filled eyes on her standing before me. "Why are you not yelling at me?"
She smiles kindly. "Don't get me wrong, Daphne, I'm not happy about this, and I'm mad as hell you two weren’t careful, but you need support right now."
"Thank you." I succumb to more tears. "I need to call him."
Mom nods. "I'll get the number."
Silent tears fall down my cheeks. There's no point in wiping them away when more will take their place. I wind up crying myself to sleep like I have done every night this past week.
I've lost track of how many drinks and shots have gone down my throat since I got back to the compound with Jacey. First thing I did was plopped my ass on this stool, hours ago, replaying over and over that asshole kissing Daphne and touching her. It’s like a bad fucking movie.
"Doc?" Jacey sits beside me.
My head lazily drifts in her direction. "What?" I ask more harshly than I intended, but I'm pissed off.
"Maybe you should head to your room. I think you've had enough." Her eyes are filled with pity and regret.
I lean closer. "Maybe you should back the fuck off."
Her shoulders sag. "Doc—"
Slamming my bottle on the counter, she stops speaking. "You said it would help me, that it would be what I needed, and you were wrong." I shake my head. "So, fucking wrong. All it did was make shit worse." I love Jacey like a sister, but God damn it, I don’t want to deal with her anymore today. I jump off the stool, it falls to the floor with a thud, and I leave her there yelling after me. Her pleas for me to come back continue until the clubhouse door closes behind me. I hop on my bike, peel out of the lot, and head for the highway.
I pull up to the ranch-style home lined with perfectly trimmed bushes on both sides of the small porch. Not a single light in the house is on. Shutting off my bike, I stumble onto the sidewalk and up to the front door. I pound my fist on the wood until the door opens.
"What the..." My father stops mid-sentence.
My mom looks around his back. "Devon?" She questions in half-shock, half-surprise.
I stare at my parents coldly, deadly. "How could you not fucking tell me? How could you keep it from me?"
"Come in. You're going to wake the neighborhood." My mom scolds me as she steps around my father, holding out her hand to me.
I don't take it, but I push my way inside. I spin on both of them, narrowing my eyes. "How could you fucking do that to me?"
"You watch your mouth in this house, boy." My father's tone is stern, furious.
I laugh without humor. "Right this house, not my home." I fall onto the old mauve couch, the same couch they've had since I was a boy.
My mom hesitantly, but calmly, sits next to me, takes my hand in hers, and pats it with her other. "Why don't you get some rest and we'll talk about it tomorrow."
Tears spring up in my eyes. I dart my head in her direction, welcoming the tears that have begun to fall. "I fucked up and I lost her. I missed out on him and now it’s too late."
She pulls me into her arms. "It’s not too late." I let her comfort me.
My father walks to my other side, grabs my arm, and pulls me up. "Go and sleep the liquor off."
Yanking my arm out of his grasp, I stumble from the force. "Don't touch me." I glare into his old eyes. "Are you happy?" I spit my question at him in disgust. "Does this make you feel good?"
"What are you talking about?" My mom asks, her eyes laced with confusion as they drift between me and my father.
Without answering her, I storm to my old room, slam the door shut, and fall face first onto the bed.
Light shines into the room and over my face, blinding me as I try to see where the hell I'm at. I squint while looking around the space, and sit up farther on the bed.
Fuck!
Running a hand down my face, I remember coming to my parents’ house last night, drunk as fuck and out of my mind. As I study the room, I realize it's exactly the same as I left it. The walls are still painted a light blue, my football and baseball trophies sit on the shelves, medals hang on the walls as decorations, and photos of me and Daphne and some with our high school friends are collaged over my dresser mirror.
I stand, walk over to them, and look at each one. Times were easier then. We had no worries except winning the next game, and we were happy. The smiles on Daphne and my faces, the light shining in our eyes, showcases the love we had for each other. The love we thought we would always share. We couldn't have predicted the future, but during those times, I never thought I'd be without her, never thought I would have lost her love, and never thought there would be a day I would have to witness another man holding or kissing what was always mine.
Opening my bedroom door, I wander out and down the hall. I hear noise from the kitchen, so I go in there and take a seat on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island.
My mom looks over her shoulder with a beaming smile. "Good morning."
"Morning," I grumble, starting to feel the hangover coming on.
She sets a steaming mug of coffee in front of me. "How long have you been back?" Her eyes shine with tears and gleam with questions. She’s aged since I last saw her. Her dark hair now has streaks of gray, lines indent the corners of her blue eyes, and a few wrinkles are prominent on the sides of her mouth. The little changes I notice in her make me realize just how much time has passed.
Looking down at the cup, I pick it up and hold it in my hands. I can’t bear to see the sadness. "A while." I give her the same response I gave Daphne. I hear her footsteps go back over to the stove. Bringing the cup up to my lips, I blow on the hot liquid before taking a sip. "How could you not tell me?"
She slides a plate full of bacon, eggs, and toast across the island. It lands in front of me. From between my arms, the aroma of the food drifts into my nostrils and my stomach rumbles but turns at the same time. I pick up the fork that was already sitting there and take a bite, slowly chewing.
Quietly, she asks, "How could we tell you?" She sighs heavily and continues. "We tried calling you, writing letters…any form of contact with you went unanswered. You didn't come home after basic training and this is the first I've seen my son in eleven years." My eyes shift to hers at the break in her trembling voice. She covers her mouth with her hand as a few tears trickle down her cheeks. "Telling your eighteen-year-old son he's going to be a father over a message..." She shakes her head and stops.
My shoulders sag. "Mom."
She lets her tears fall. "I've missed you so much, Devon, and it's like you left and forgot all about us."
"I didn't forget."
Her brows dip. She has a tight hold on her own coffee cup, bent over the island with her elbows resting on the counter. Her gaze meets mine. "Then, why haven't you come home before now?"
My stare hardens and I throw the fork down onto my plate, suddenly losing my appetite. "Because I'm not going to be somewhere I'm not wanted. The club wants me. They're my family."
Her hands slam down on the island countertop. "We are your family. Why would you think you aren't wanted?"
I shake my head and stand. "Never mind. I gotta go." I rush out of the house and to my bike. The keys are already in the ignition. I peel away and head for the compound.
Freshly showered with a clean pair of loose-fitting jeans, white t-shirt, my cut, and riding boots on, I walk out to the bar and take a stool in the smoke-filled room.
"Drifter, get me a beer,"
I holler at the prospect.
"Wait on that beer, Drifter." My eyes dart to Hanger. "We need to talk." His angry eyes are burning through me.
I nod, stand, and follow him into our chapel.
Bear’s already sitting in his seat. His expression is no better than Hanger's. They're pissed at me and I don't blame them, I'm pissed at myself.
Hanger shuts the door behind us. We both take our designated chairs, and then I let my president start. "You wanna explain what the fuck happened last week?"
I keep my eyes glued to his so that he can see my guilt. "I'm sorry I disrespected you by leaving church that way."
It does nothing to soften his stone-cold stare. "Who is Daphne to you?"
I sigh, lean forward, and place my elbows on the table. I run my hands over my face. "She's everything. I've known her since I was seven and she was six. We were best friends. We grew up together, and we fell in love. I left her when I enlisted in the Army, and haven't seen her since…until last week. The kid she brought with her, her son, he's mine. That's my son."
"Shit." Hanger runs his hand through his short brown hair.
I turn my attention to Bear. "Say what you gotta say." I know what's coming.
"I know you and Lil Mama have some kinda bond and are close friends, but don't take advantage of that, Doc. I saw the way you talked to her last night, and I'm not fuckin' okay with that. You disrespect my woman, my Ol' Lady, you disrespect me. When she's hurtin' and cryin', it's my duty to hurt whoever hurt her. And she's hurtin' right now because of you. Make shit right with her because I don't wanna have to hurt you, but I will cut your fuckin' tongue out if you ever talk to her like that again. Brother or not. Got it?"
If he knew I choked her and could have killed her, I wouldn't even be sitting here now. Any of my brothers would be the same for their women. I’d be that way with Daphne. "I'll make it right."
Hanger speaks again, " What are you gonna do about Daphne and your kid?"
My attention shifts to him. "I'm gonna do what I gotta do and handle my shit."
He nods. "Even though you don't go out with us on most runs, or deal with the trouble we face, we still need your head straight."
"I know. I'm here for the club. You're my family, my brothers."
"Good. We have some business coming up with our Oklahoma Chapter. They need our help with a couple of their suppliers. It could get dirty. So, go do what you gotta do to get focused."
I nod and stand. "I will."
“One more thing. We’re gonna be short some of our brothers. You know Mullins best. Is it a good idea to take him with us?”
Without hesitation, I answer, “One hundred percent. I trust him with my life.”
He tips his head forward. “Good.”
I walk out of the room and clubhouse, going straight for my fat boy. I straddle my Harley and set my destination for Runaway Tattoo.
I stomp into Daphne’s shop like a man on a mission, and well, I am. "Hey, Doc," Audrey calls after me, but I'm not here for niceties or to wait for her to get Daphne. I keep my feet moving until I’m at her office door, open it without knocking, and step over the threshold, slamming the door shut behind me.
Daphne's head snaps up and she stands from her chair. "Devon, what the hell are you doing?"
I quickly stride over and reach behind her, gripping the nape of her neck. "Making you remember." I slam my mouth against hers. My tongue peeks out, running along the seam of her lips, begging her to open. Finally, she does and my tongue caresses hers. It’s a dueling fight of love and remembrance until she pushes against my chest.
Pulling away, I gaze down at her with a grin. Her hand lands perfectly against my cheek. My head turns to the side with the force of the hit, and my skin burns from the impact. "The fuck?" I hold my cheek, glaring at her.
Her face reddens with fury. "Don't you dare do that!" She spews angrily. "It's bad enough you are showing up out of the blue, but you keep coming back and acting like it's no big deal to see me after eleven years. Eleven! And you think you have the right to kiss me?" Her words are like venom.
"Would you rather that asshole be the one kissing you? You think it doesn't affect me seeing you again?" I lower my tone. "I've been going fucking crazy since last week."
She roughly sits back down in her chair and covers her face with her hands. Moving away from her, I sit down opposite her. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing." I sag in defeat.
She looks up at me dropping her hands onto the desk. "I remember everything, Dev. There hasn't been a day that I haven't remembered." She called me Dev. Her head tilts to the side. "But we aren't kids anymore."
I nod in agreement. "I know, but how do we move forward with all of the history we share?"
"I don't know." She shrugs. "I guess we talk, we work through the past. I have to know you are here for good before involving Zane. And..." She smirks. "You don't have to worry about asshole anymore. I broke up with him."
I chuckle. "That's good. He looked like a douche." My brows furrow and my expression turns serious. "I understand about Zane. I'm gonna do what I have to, to prove I'm not going anywhere again." I release a heavy breath. "For the both of you." I get where she’s coming from. She doesn’t want our son hurt, and I don’t either. But as much as I want him in my life, I want her just as much. I want my family.
"I have an appointment in a little while, but I'll see you tomorrow then?" Her features shine with hope. Those stormy grays dance with expectation. I’ll be here. I won’t let her down again.
I smile. "Yeah."
I stroll out of her office and leave her shop feeling happy. Feeling better than I have in a long time, and my chest fills with anticipation.
My lips still tingle hours after Devon left my shop. I'm trying to focus on the dragon I'm tattooing onto my client, but damn it, my mind keeps going back to what happened earlier. The way he looked, stalking into my office, his take-charge alpha demeanor, and the way he grabbed me, smashing our lips together. It felt right, perfect, like I’ve always remembered, and yet, it felt new, thrilling, and earth-shattering. For a brief moment in time, I forgot, forgot everything in the past, all the time that has gone by, and my shattered heart.
The palm of my hand stings, remembering the slap across his face. I'm not a violent person. Really, I'm not, but who does he think he is? No matter how hot and sexy it was, he didn't have the right to kiss me. He lost that privilege long ago, the night he decided to up and leave without so much as a goodbye.
I feel like I'm giving myself whiplash with all of my confusing back and forth. I love him, but I'm mad at him. I don't want him to kiss me, but my heart wants to beg for more. I want him to stay gone so I don't get hurt, so Zane doesn't get hurt, but I want to see him a lot more. My soul yearns for the boy I loved, my soul cries for its mate, but my head screams that he’s trouble and to stay far, far away from the man who could destroy me all over again. Eleven years ago I shattered and the pieces were never put back together, but he could mend it all if he can prove he means what he says, that he speaks the truth.
I dip the needle into the black ink and zone in on finishing Makayla's outline on her outer thigh, up onto her hip, and curving around to her stomach. Her outline alone is taking hours. We're already three hours in, but the fine details will have me here for hours after closing. Since it's such a big tattoo, and I don't want to take the chance of giving her skin too much trauma or having the colors bleed together, I’ll have her come back in two weeks to get the color put in. I've already called my mom to pick up Zane and I'll go by my parents to get him before going home.
I park in the driveway at my parents’ house. The small brick home is the same one I was raised in, the one I still love and have so many memories in. I stride up the sidewalk and step onto the front porch. I open the front door without knocking and join my mom in the living room. "Zane sleeping?" He should be, it's close to ten P.M. and past his bedtime.
"Yes." Mom yawns. "I think he wore your dad out today,
wanting to play catch for hours." She laughs. “Your dad went to bed a couple of hours ago too.”
I mimic her. "Sounds like, Z." My laugh and smile become somber. "I saw Devon."
She freezes, staring at me. It takes a few seconds for her to gain her composure. "When?"
I sit in my dad’s blue recliner. "Last week, yesterday, today."
She clears her throat. "How long has he been back? What's going to happen? Has he answered for himself?"
I put a hand up. "Wow, Mom. Stop." I laugh lightly. "He's been back for years. I don't know what's going to happen, and a lot of questions have been asked between the both of us, but not nearly all of them."
She nods, but her lips purse. "Why is he just now showing up?"
I dip my chin to my chest. "We ran into each other by accident. He knows about Zane." I'm almost thirty, but I'm not telling her I took Zane to the Satan's Sinners compound. Everyone in this town knows their reputation. She would be pissed knowing I took him there, not to mention that I went into business with them.
Her eyes widen immensely. "I hope he doesn't think he can just bulldoze into Zane’s life after all this time."
I shake my head. "I explained to him that I need to be sure before I introduce them."
"Good." Satisfaction shines in her gaze. "Are you hungry? I made roast."
I give her a small grin. "I could eat."
I follow her into the kitchen, she heats up a plate for me, and I sit at the breakfast nook.
My fingers fidgeting, I stare at them and ask absently. "Is it wrong of me to want to forgive Devon? To want us to be a family?"
She sets the plate down in front of me with a glass of iced tea. "No, honey. You know your father and I have always considered Devon part of this family, even after leaving, but he hurt you and you being hurt, hurts us.” She’s silent for a moment then says, “I've always wondered if something made Devon leave the way he did."
