MC Fight Club: Iron Banshees: (Complete Series: Parts 1-5) An MC Fighter Menage Romance

by Juniper Leigh

  “Am I?” I dropped down onto a chair at the kitchen table. “I’m not so sure.”

  “You are,” she said. “You are.” She slid into a chair across from me, and her face took on a somewhat dreamy look. “I thought about it myself,” she said after a while, “leaving Hollybrook, I mean.”

  “You did?” This surprised me: she had always been the ideal Old Lady, always supporting my father in whatever fool endeavor he had undertaken. She seemed to enjoy the life, even if she wasn’t particularly well-suited to it.

  “Of course I did,” she went on. “My parents didn’t exactly approve of your father. They wanted an entirely different life for me. And for you and your brother. So, when I was pregnant with you, I left your father.”

  “You didn’t!”

  She smiled. “Only for a few days. I went to stay with my family for about a week or so, and considered all my options. It was violent, even back then — though not nearly so much as it is now. And I didn’t want you to be a part of it, either of you. Brian took to it all at a young age, your father teaching him how to work on his Harley, and all of that. But you… I knew you could have more. Be more.” She regarded me coolly, and I could tell she was trying to be careful with her words. “That’s why I never wanted you to marry Lucas Whalen.”

  “You never told me that.” I said. “I thought you loved Lucas.”

  “I do. He’s a sweetheart, and he always treated you well. But that wasn’t the point.”

  “You should have said something.”

  “Please. You were a teenager when you feel in love with him. If I had forbidden you to marry Lucas Whalen, that would have sent you running right straight into his arms.”

  I heaved a sigh and nodded: she was right, of course. “What made you go back to Dad?” I asked. “Back when you were pregnant. What was it?”

  She shook her head slowly, chagrined, but smiling. “Empty promises. Your father swore to me up and down that we would leave this town together one day. It was all he wanted, he said. After he’d gotten the club set up the way he wanted it to be, he and I both would leave.” She sighed. “I was addicted to that fool man. And I’ve no idea what I’ll do without him.”

  And my mother said nothing more about it. She went about putting away the dishes from the morning’s breakfast, picking up after my brother, and gathering Jamie’s toys to put them back in his small backpack. I think it calms her to keep busy in these times of loneliness and sadness, and I couldn’t help but wonder how she would fare once we’d gone.

  “Where’s Brian?” I asked.

  “Out back,” she said. “Have you started packing yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Best get to it. There’s an errand I will need you to run for me on your way out of town.”

  I climbed the stairs of my mother’s house, examining all of the framed photographs that she kept on the walls that lined the stairway. Brian and I had grown up on these walls: at the bottom of the stairs were baby pictures where we were tiny little creatures cradled in my mother’s arms. Then, halfway up the staircase we were schoolchildren, all big teeth and backpacks. Then, closer to the top of the stairs, we were high school graduates in caps and gowns. When Lucas and I split up, all of the wedding photographs had been taken down. Except for one: me, in a simple white gown holding a bouquet of Queen Anne’s lace, sitting on the swing that hung from the tree in the backyard and smiling, big and broad, directly into the camera. I was no more than a child in that picture, the same way I was no more than a child in my high school graduation photo. But how grown up I had felt. How was it, when I was that young, I thought I knew anything at all?

  I paused at the door to my childhood bedroom where Jamie had been staying, allowing my gaze to drink in the familiar surroundings. I didn’t know when I would ever see that room again, and I had grown up in it. Part of me wanted to let my son grow up in it, too. But now finally I knew better.

  I made my way to the guest room and saw the remnants of our lovemaking scattered all over the room. Lucas had left his flannel shirt so I folded it, and it was the first thing I packed into my suitcase. Oliver had left a T-shirt behind, probably on purpose. So, I took that too. That way, I would have a little piece of them both, something to keep in the bottom drawer, something to touch, something to revisit.

  I completed the rest of my packing with smooth celerity, not really pausing to think about the journey ahead. I had nearly completed the task, when there was a knock at the door. “Harper Grace, you decent?” I heard through the door, and I smiled as I crossed the room to let Brian in.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” I echoed.

  “Taking off, then?”

  “Pretty soon, yeah.” He gave a slow nod of his head as he made his way deeper into the room. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and didn’t look me in the eye. He seemed abashed, embarrassed by what I’m sure he thought was his unmanly display of emotion. I inclined my head and forced him to meet my gaze, our eyes mirror images of each other. “What’s the matter?” I asked at length.

  “I just came here to say that I’m really sorry.” It all came spilling out, then. All of it, as though once he had opened the well, he couldn’t stop again until the full truth of it had come out. “I should’ve been here. I can’t believe I wasn’t here from the very beginning. I hate myself for it. Mom hates me for it, I know she must. Do you hate me for it? I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’m so sorry, Harper Grace, I’m so sorry. Please, please forgive me.”

  “Forgiven, dear one,” I said, and tugged him into my arms. “Forgiven.”

  He held me for a long stretch of silence, and when I pulled away I peered up into a face that looked so much like my father’s it almost took my breath away. He quirked his head to one side and he grinned down at me. “What?”

  “Nothing.” I said. “I just hadn’t realized you looked so much like Dad.”

  He chuckled wryly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I get that a lot.” He canted his chin toward the bed, where my full suitcase lay open. “You done with that?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said, and he moved over to the bed and zipped the thing up.

  “I’ll take it down to the truck for you,” he said, hoisting it onto his shoulder. He paused at the door and glanced back at me. “Don’t be a stranger, Harper Grace,” he said.

  ***

  After stripping the sheets off the bed, collecting the towels and washcloths, and bringing them all down into the laundry room, the only thing that was left to do was write two letters: one to Oliver, new lover, new friend; and one to Lucas, husband, father of my son, and the love of my life. Oliver had saved me, there was no denying that. And I did love him in my way. But perhaps not in the way he had hoped for. As much as it pained me to say goodbye to him, I knew it was ultimately the best thing for him. I wrote:

  Dear Oliver,

  There are several things for which I must beg your forgiveness, not the least of which is slipping away without saying goodbye to you in person. Please forgive me for being careless with your heart. I had never intended to do you harm, and I had never intended to develop such strong feelings for you in return. It’s just bad timing, baby. You are a kind, strong, gorgeous man, and you deserve someone who will love you with the same fierceness and loyalty that you show them. I am asking you to forgive me because, despite your attractive offer, I’m afraid I must decline. I can’t have this life following me and my son around for the rest of our days. I don’t know that I would ever be able to shake the realities of our origin story, and that’s not something either of us want hanging over our heads.

  Please know that I wanted to choose you. Or, more accurately, I wanted to want to choose you. I’m not choosing Lucas either. Instead, I’m choosing my son. I’m choosing to ensure that his life looks nothing like the one we’re leaving behind. You are a good and decent man, so I am certain you can understand this.

  You saved my life, Oliver, in more ways than one. And for th
at, I will be forever grateful. You will always have a friend in me, as I hope to always have a friend in you. I’ll forever treasure the time we spent together, and I am sad to say that it’s over. I don’t really know how to end this type of letter, in fact I’ve never written this type of letter before. So, I suppose I’ll just say: Thank you, friend. And goodbye.

  Love,

  Harper Grace Harrington.

  One letter down, and one to go. I’d certainly saved the more difficult for last. I sat at my mother’s kitchen table and peered out the window. From my seat, I could see the tree through the kitchen window. It was the very tree that the swing used to hang from, where they’d taken the photograph of me in the wedding dress. I had grown up in this town, and Lucas had grown up with me. But we had also grown apart, though our end was due to no lack of love. So, what was there to say? Something. I had to say something.

  Dear Lucas,

  I love you. I love you I love you I love you. Please, if you are ever ready to leave this life, to leave this town, come find us. We’re waiting.

  Harper

  I had no idea if I would never see Lucas again, though I hoped for my son’s sake that I would. Lucas knew well enough to stay away the first time; I knew that he would stay away this time too. But, oh, I didn’t want him to stay away.

  I tucked the notes into envelopes, addressed them appropriately, and stuck them in my purse. Whether I was fully prepared or not, it was time to leave. Time to leave Hollybrook, my family, and the dangerous life to which they had become accustomed.

  I headed back downstairs and found my mother waiting in the foyer with Jamie in her arms. I gazed at my son, the reason for all of the day’s decisions, and approached them, scooping him up into my arms. He nuzzled himself against my neck, clinging to me and clearly saddened by the prospect of leaving his grandmother.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said, rocking Jamie gently to and fro.

  “Thank you,” she replied, rubbing his back. “I’m glad you came.”

  “Of course I came,” I said, and she leaned forward to press a kiss to my cheek. She followed us out to the driveway and helped me get Jamie settled in the car, playing happily with two of his racecars.

  “Okay,” I said, preparing myself to bid my mother farewell. But she held up a hand.

  “Just a second,” she said, and darted back into the house. I watched her disappear inside and reappear a few moments later, carrying a plain brown cardboard box in her hand, no bigger than a shoebox. She cradled it gently and pressed it carefully into my hands. “I need you to do me this favor,” she said, not taking her eyes off the box. “These are your father’s ashes, Harper Grace. I need you to take them out of Hollybrook and scatter them.”

  I furrowed my brow, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat. “Where do you want me to take them, exactly?”

  “It doesn’t matter where,” she said. “Anywhere. Just make sure it’s out of Hollybrook. The bastard will keep his promise to me yet.” She flashed a smile and I mirrored it before wrapping my arms around her neck and hugging her close.

  “Goodbye, Ma,” I said, and kissed her cheek. I climbed into the truck and set my father’s ashes carefully on the dashboard before backing out down the drive. My mother stood at the front door and waved and waved until I couldn’t see her anymore.

  At the end of the block, I saw a man standing astride his motorcycle. I smiled. I couldn’t help it, I was glad to see that Lucky had come to see me off. “Daddy!” Jamie shouted, and I pulled the car to a stop and snatched the letters from my purse. I climbed out of the truck and moved around to get Jamie out, too, and he ran to his father as soon as I put him on the ground.

  “Hey, buddy,” Lucas said, hoisting his son into the air and hugging him close. “I just wanted to say goodbye to you and your mother before you headed out of town.”

  “When do we get to visit you again?” Jamie asked, and I could see him growing solemn by the prospect of being separated from his father yet again.

  “Soon, bud,” he said. “Real soon.” Jamie clung to him, not letting him go even when Lucas moved to put him back down. I rubbed Jamie’s back and Lucas curled his arm around my waist, hugging me close.

  “I love you, Harper,” he murmured into my hair, and I thought I might burst into tears. I hugged him tight, and let him go.

  “No tearful goodbyes,” I said. “I won’t ever leave if we have some sort of scene.”

  He chuckled and kissed his son’s forehead before heading over to the truck and putting him back in his seat. Once he’d closed the door, Jamie could be seen waving to his father as he walked back over to me and hugged me tight. “No tearful goodbyes, then.”

  “I wrote letters,” I said, wiggling out of his embrace.

  “Okay…,” Lucas said, staring down at my hands as I pressed the letters into his.

  “One is for you. The other, for Oliver. See that he gets it, will you?”

  He pursed his lips, displeased, but ultimately gave a nod of his head. “Yes, I’ll make sure he gets it.” He tucked the letters into the internal pocket of his vest and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I actually have one for you, too,” he said, and held it out to me.

  I took it and began unfolding it, but he placed his hand over mine to stop me. “Wait until you’re out of town to read it,” he said. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, and I kissed him with all the passion I’d held back while I’d been home. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he slid his around my waist, and we clung desperately to one another as we lost ourselves in the kiss.

  But it had to end, and it did end, and he turned around and went over to his bike. He climbed atop it and revved the engine to life, and he didn’t look back at me as he set off on his way.

  ***

  Hollybrook wasn’t exactly a huge town, and driving to the city limits took us under forty-five minutes, and that was with hitting a bit of traffic near the post office. Jamie was humming happily where he sat when I spied the sign: Now Leaving Hollybrook. I pulled over onto the shoulder and stopped the truck, climbing out but leaving Jamie where he sat. I took my father’s ashes, cradling the box carefully in my hands, and walked the several yards to where the sign stuck in the mud.

  I stood there for a long stretch of silence, feeling as though I should have had something to say. I opened the box and peered inside: ash, fine and grey, was all that was left of this once human life. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I said, but I wasn’t entirely sure why. Sorry that he died, sorry that I hadn’t been able to see him once more before he did, sorry that his lifestyle choices had gotten him into the mess in the first place. Whatever it was, it felt real, and I felt it down to my core.

  I began to shake the box and watched the wind pick up the ashes, sending them east, and further out of town. The final specks of dust that remained of Old Pete Harrington floated on the breeze, swirling about the sign that proclaimed he had finally kept the promise he’d made to my mother: he had, once and for all, left Hollybrook.

  I set the box down by the sign so that it leaned against the post, and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans, staying with my father until he had dissipated completely. I thought, as I breathed in deep, that some of the particles that had once been him were drifting into my lungs, and I breathed him out again. Because nothing new was created, and nothing old was ever really destroyed. We were just transmuted, and now he was part of the air.

  I felt around in my pockets and fingered the note that Lucas had handed to me. I figured it was safe to read now, seeing as I was officially out of town. I pulled it out — it was a scrap of ruled paper that had been torn at both ends, and I wondered if it had, at one point, been longer. Maybe he’d thought better of a first draft and had done an edit. Regardless, this was what the note said, in Lucas’s broad, distinct hand:

  I promise, Harper: I will join you one day. I love you I love you I love you.

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