Frost (EEMC)

by Hunter, Bijou

  For the first time, I notice how much Lowell is into Topanga. It’s clear why he doesn’t hook up with the bunnies despite his marriage clocking in at nearly two decades. Lowell and Topanga flirt a lot, and she gives him this look that makes me imagine them fucking. I’ve never seen longtime married people act this way.

  Sure, Uncle Clive likes to show off Immee, but they don’t have chemistry. He’s a powerful, semi-attractive man who wanted a hot woman on his arm. Clive likes to say he auditioned several women when he was ready to settle down, and Immee looked best while jumping through the hoops.

  I can’t imagine Lowell claiming that about Topanga. Or Conor toward me. They behave really romantic, which is weird, but I’m learning to roll with it. I’ve noticed how Bronco acts with Lana and his girls. Or how giant Anders is with his hippie woman and their daughter. Some of the Executioners are rough assholes who barely seem to remember they have a family. Yet, others fell hard for their honeys and kids.

  With Topanga bugging me about babies, I think to ask why she never adopted or used a bunny as a surrogate. My question causes the mood in the room to shift, and she just shrugs.

  “That’s not how things were done in my family.”

  “That’s not how it was done in my family, either. However, maybe our parents and grandparents weren’t always the brightest, you know?”

  Topanga shrugs again, but I notice a twinkle of an idea brewing her head now.

  However, I suspect Lowell thinks I was rude to his woman. Why else does he ask to speak alone in the backyard? I’m leery about ruining our fun and look to Conor for help. He glances at Lowell and then back at me.

  “While you two talk, I’ll hunt down Dunning, and Topanga can force-feed the boy.”

  Getting the message, I walk outside with Lowell, who looks around his yard as if seeing it for the first time. Yes, it’s very nice, Papa.

  “What’s up?” I ask when he remains in awe of his surroundings rather than spitting out what, I assume, is a lecture about how I need to be nicer to Topanga.

  “At the party,” he finally says, “when I was outside with Bambi, I made clear how she needed to get her daughter under control. What Taryn pulled with you was unacceptable. She wouldn’t have the balls to act like that with Bronco’s girls or Dunning. She shouldn’t attack you, either.”

  I don’t know if I believe Lowell actually told Bambi those words, but the fact that he would even lie means so much. Of course, his words inspire heat behind my eyes.

  “I’m an outsider to them.”

  “Their feelings don’t matter. I’m the VP, and my family gets treated a certain way.”

  Roughly rubbing my eyes to keep them from crying, I remind myself that twenty-one is far too old to turn crybaby. “Thanks for saying that to her.”

  Lowell makes everything more awkward by stepping closer and wrapping his arms around me. I lean into his embrace, even while pulling back from the edge of tears. Crying never fixes anything. I won’t do it tonight.

  “I’m sorry I seemed put out when I learned about you,” he says, still seeming more nervous than necessary.

  Nodding, I step back and focus my gaze on his chest rather than his face. “I should have told you differently. I messed up, but I don’t want to take the blame. It feels better when other people are the fuckups.”

  Lowell chuckles. “I’m always willing to take the blame. Just ask Bronco.”

  Though I try to smile, his behavior has turned my heart mushy. I feel the heat return to my eyes until I’m certain I’ll cry.

  “Did someone make you act like this?” I ask, afraid to trust his behavior today.

  “Few people can make me do anything.”

  Thinking back to the stories my mom told me, I babble, “Needy said you would beat up men with your giant fists.”

  We look at his hands. “They’re not giant.”

  “Compared to Anders’s hands, no,” I say, getting myself under control. “But they’re big.”

  Lowell gives me a weird look, and I step back. “She wasn’t obsessed with you or anything. She just wanted me to know about my dad, so I wouldn’t feel as if I was missing out.”

  “But you still felt that way.”

  “Doesn’t everyone want what they can’t have?”

  Lowell shrugs his wide shoulders. “I wanted a normal family when I was growing up. That wasn’t in the cards, so don’t expect any aunts, uncles, or cousins from my side. I cut them loose as soon as I could.”

  “Sometimes, walking away is the only solution,” I say, thinking of my aunt back in Minton. After Zella died, Immee kept telling me how everything would be okay. Then, Mom went away, and she said the same thing. When Clive ordered me to marry a stranger, I already knew what Immee would say. I’m unsure if she’s capable of admitting how things aren’t okay.

  “Conor told me about your uncle,” Lowell says when I remain silent. “Was he abusive toward you?”

  “Like sex stuff?”

  Lowell frowns. “Any abuse.”

  “Clive and his family are rough people. He would smack me in the back of the head, but he does that to everyone. I saw him slap the mayor once. I don’t know if that’s abuse as much as he’s just an asshole.”

  “He can’t get to you here.”

  “If he finds me, he’ll make threats.”

  “If he comes to Elko, he better be ready to do more than threaten. We can’t hold our territory if we’re scared of words.”

  “He’ll bring men.”

  “Good for him. We have agreements with different people. If we go down, they’ll saddle up and get revenge. We’d do the same for them.”

  Seeing my father stand so powerful while assuring me that I’m safe fills my heart with the kind of kidlike glee I shouldn’t be capable of anymore. “I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you the truth when I first got here.”

  “I’m an intimidating guy,” he says, shrugging more like a dad than a scary biker. “I’m not good at confrontation sometimes. Mostly with feelings.”

  “But you handle the bunnies.”

  “Only because Bronco can’t, and his sisters are tyrants. Once I saw a chance to ditch that responsibility on Jena, I made my move.”

  Without thinking, I blurt out, “I think Jena was scared to end up alone once she wasn’t hot anymore.”

  “She’s still hot.”

  “Then, why did no one want to bang her?”

  “Because she got weird after Bronco hooked up with Lana. She seemed sad all the time, and bunnies aren’t allowed to have feelings.”

  I share his smile. “Well, Bronco is hot, so I can see why she’d nurse a crush. But you can’t force things. I thought that’s what Conor was doing with me. Like he was bored and needed something to focus on that no one else had. But his feelings are real.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He babbles when he’s stoned, barfing out his true feelings. Then, he forgets what he said. It’s a pretty solid lie detector,” I say and then cover my mouth. “Wait, did I just rat him out to his boss?”

  “Conor is a member of my family. That’s how it works in the club. You probably didn’t get that vibe during the party, but people aren’t usually such assholes.”

  “Uh-huh,” I mutter, not really buying that the old ladies would be my besties under different circumstances. Not when I’m a constant reminder of how their men stick their dicks in those hot chicks that show up to parties.

  “Why do you have bunnies at all?” I ask, feeling overly honest.

  “This system is safer than having guys partying with random women. You know how the bunnies are always around. They hear info, and random hookups could be spies or cops. That’s why Jena didn’t let you do anything important initially, just to test you out. Plus, the bunnies don’t date outside the club. Less chance of a gonorrhea outbreak with the bunnies than a townie party girl.”

  “You live a very insular life, community-wise. Like you’re all friends, and you live in this one
neighborhood. The bunnies live next door. You don’t let outsiders close. For your lifestyle, the bunny setup makes sense,” I say and glance at Conor inside the house. “If we stay together, I would rather him bang a bunny than a girl he meets in town. And I won’t scare her off if she gets knocked up. I’ll act overly nice to her just to irritate all the other old ladies. Best to keep things spicy around here.”

  Lowell rolls his eyes. “Well, fuck with the other old ladies if you want. And fight with the other kids if you need to. But maybe don’t use that headbutt move so much.”

  Lowell and I share comfortable laughter until we notice Conor inside fake-fighting with my brother.

  “Dunning has the hots for Summer,” I say for no reason. “That’s what I heard, anyway.”

  “Oh, and Dove. That’s Pixie’s younger sister. Summer doesn’t date, and Dove might like girls. One day, Dunning will need to get stupid over girls outside of the Woodlands.”

  “Why can’t he sleep with the bunnies?”

  “What makes you think he doesn’t already?”

  Cocking an eyebrow, I ask, “Are you under the impression the bunnies don’t spend half the day gossiping?”

  “Fair enough. Topanga said he can’t. She’s convinced if his first time is with a bunny, he’ll marry one.”

  “She’s uppity,” I say, and Lowell snorts. “I like her and all, but the bunnies were really sweet to me. You know how catty women can be. Amity, especially, treated me like family.”

  “I still wish you wouldn’t live at the Overlook,” he says and sighs. “But Conor is talking about building his house. Then, you’ll live there.”

  “His place is supposed to be a few houses down from Wyatt’s. That’s a bunch of bullshit right there.”

  “Their houses are located in the next section to be developed.”

  “Why can’t we start another section for Conor and me?” I ask, pushing my luck. “Then, Conor’s spot can be saved for when Bronco’s kids are older, or Dunning needs a house.”

  “What makes you think Dunning will want to live in the community or be in the club?”

  “Oh, he’ll definitely be an Executioner. Look at the way he struts.”

  Lowell grins like a proud father as he watches his son throw play punches at a dodging Conor. Through the double-pane back doors, I can’t hear what Topanga is saying. However, she’s smiling in that proud mama way my mom did when I’d accomplish even the smallest thing. Lowell and Topanga love their boy so much. Maybe one day, they’ll genuinely care for me.

  But no one can fill the hole my mom’s absence has left behind. If I were braver, I’d go to her now. Ask if she wants to run away with me. Risk her saying no.

  But I’m scared. Of her response, and now of bringing trouble to Elko and these people I’m starting to fall for and the man I already love.

  PART 7: QUESTIONS ABOUT THE PAST AND FUTURE

  CONOR

  Bronco and Lowell like to brainstorm at the Lickety-Split Ice Cream shop, one of the club’s front businesses. I get a message to meet them there after checking on the Village’s latest weed harvest. I took on a lot of responsibility overseeing the local cult’s marijuana production, but I sensed the club’s future lies in pot products rather than the harder drugs.

  I arrive at the shop to find the seating area empty except for a bunny working the register. She smiles at me and then goes back to typing on her phone. In the back office, I grin at giant Anders trying to be casual in a corner while Lowell and Bronco sit at a small desk.

  “This room feels like a violation of my privacy,” I mutter as I get stuck standing too fucking close to Anders. “I might need to crawl into your big strong arms.”

  “No,” is all he says while smirking at my comment.

  “What’s so important that we need to cuddle like this?” I ask when my uncle just eyes me.

  “I’m not retiring,” Bronco finally says in a chilly voice. “Not in the normal sense. No big retirement party where I leave and you take over.”

  Rather than reveal how his words kick me in the nuts, I ask, “What makes you think I even want to be president?”

  “Shut up,” he mutters, refusing to grin despite me knowing he wants to. “I plan to step back. Go part-time, really. Let you take over more day-to-day shit. When we have club meetings, I’ll do some of the talking, and you’ll handle the rest. Over time, you’ll do more, and I’ll do less.”

  “Because you don’t think I’m ready to take over or because you don’t think the men will follow me?”

  Bronco forces me to wonder for nearly a minute before finally shrugging and saying, “More the latter than the former. Mostly, I’m not ready to let go of power yet. I’ve been in charge for too long to just hand over power, throw a party, and retire. My ego demands a gradual process to let me and the men ease into it. Eventually, it’ll feel as if you were always in charge.”

  “Well, since we’re being honest about the future, the club needs younger guys. Wyatt and I are on the older side of the new generation. Younger guys are coming up like Dunning and John Boy, but they have a few years before their balls finally drop. Meanwhile, Rooster whines about his back all the time, and Akron no longer rides his bike because of hemorrhoids. We need fresh blood or to hire an outside enforcer group to do beatdowns.”

  “Which do you think is better?”

  “Enforcer group,” I answer, having considering this question for years. “Elko doesn’t have much talent. No one around here seems like prospect material. And we can’t bring any shithead off the street into the club. We ought to outsource a lot of the bloodier stuff. No offense to Farts, but he isn’t even willing to fight for a better name. Can’t imagine he’ll have much fire in him if someone dangerous throws down with us.”

  Bronco considers my point and how most of the men he founded the club with are now grandpas. We need more men in their twenties and thirties. To find talent, we’ll need to scout elsewhere for it. That’s something Bronco’s mentioned in the past, but he remains leery of new people in our community.

  Changing the subject back to his original one, he asks, “So, are you fine with the power-sharing arrangement until I’m ready to step back for good?”

  “Sure. I’m in no rush to hear the old-timers bitch about how I’m doing everything wrong. Besides, Monroe needs to settle into Elko, and we have to start work on our house. A lot of shit’s in play. Sharing power sounds good to me.”

  “What about Wyatt?” Bronco asks, again testing my response.

  “He and I will hash things out. I’ll explain how he can’t be president, so he needs to bow to my fucking will. He’ll throw a fit, of course. I’ll explain how if he pushes me, I won’t play favorites like you do. Then, he’ll freak out some more until I make clear how if he challenges me, he’s gone. I’m not doing your shtick where anyone can try to knock the crown off my head. If they challenge me, they’re instigating war. I’m not against tossing Wyatt out of the Executioners. He’s only in the club because he’s Rooster’s boy. No way would you patch in a guy with his temper.”

  Bronco’s smug little smile is gone once he accepts I’m serious about cutting Wyatt loose. “Won’t he be dangerous if you kick him out?”

  “What can he do? If he goes to the cops, he’s ratting out his own father. If he sides with another club, he’s starting a war with his family. If he burns down Elko, he’s killing everyone who loves him. Wyatt acts like a moron, but he understands how he can’t stand on his own. Once he knows I’ll cut him loose, he’ll behave. Then, I’ll try to channel his temper into positive things like crocheting and macrame.”

  “Funny. But if Wyatt was that easy to tame, why wouldn’t I have done it yet?”

  “Because you’re weak with him,” I say, and Bronco’s dark eyes flash menacingly. “Just like you are with me. We’re your blood, and you remember us as little boys. You’d only kill us or cut us loose if you were in a very dark place. I don’t have that fucking problem. I didn’t invite Wyatt into t
he Executioners, so I feel no loyalty in keeping him in the club. If he’s a threat, he’s gone. If he’s a big enough threat, he’s dead. I have other cousins, after all.”

  Lowell chuckles. “I get goosebumps when you get cold-blooded like that.”

  Shrugging, I suspect they think I’m full of shit. “We all know Wyatt was babied as a kid. I didn’t grow up unloved or abused, but my childhood wasn’t nearly that fucking pretty. Bambi taught her kids they were special, so the world should bow to them. My mom taught me that I came from trash people and was lucky not to be eyeball deep in shit now. Barbie might be crazy, but she knew I wouldn’t get handed anything just for showing up.”

  Deciding to poke me like I’ve poked him, Bronco asks, “Speaking of your mom, does she know you’ve asked Aja for help again?”

  “Like you, I try to avoid telling Barbie shit that’ll upset her. Well, unless I can make the news funny. No way to make a joke out of ‘your husband loved him some bunny’s pussy.’”

  “Blood is good and all,” Bronco says, clearly only wasting words to get to his point. “However, the Serpent’s Eye guys aren’t the kind of people we need to owe.”

  “You don’t owe them. I owe her. She isn’t patched in. She’s a hired gun. They aren’t the only club she works for.”

  “Don’t act as if they can’t claim otherwise. I know men like that. I was one. When I started the Executioners, I squeezed everyone. No other way to build fear and alliances.”

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his dramatics. Instead, I ask, “So you think I should go to that Kansas town myself to hand over the phone? Also, if Needy wanted out of her situation, I planned to ask Aja for help. The town is closer to her territory than ours. But if you see a better way, I’m game.”

  Bronco exhales hard, frustrated by how problems unrelated to him end up on his lap. “I don’t know. Creating an alliance with the Reapers in Kentucky made sense. They’re expanding, and Lana has a connection to them. But mostly, I felt as if River Majors was someone I could deal with. I don’t know the people running the Serpent’s Eye. Our only connection is Aja and Francesca.”