Monroe runs her fingers over my scars again before asking, “How soon do you think you could get her away from that man?”
“In a few days,” I say, and her eyes light up. “I need to get the okay from Bronco.”
“Do you think he’ll say no?”
“Of course not.”
“Does that mean asking is just a formality?”
“He doesn’t want to owe the club Aja’s stepfather runs. So, asking is my way of saying I am doing this shit on my own, and it’s not a problem for the Executioners.”
“Will it be just you and your sister?” she asks, doubting my badassery.
“She’ll bring a few hired guns.”
“And I can help.”
“No.”
“Because you think I’m weak and need protecting?”
“No, because I think your great tits will distract me.”
“Bull-fucking-shit.”
“You can come along, but you can’t help.”
“What’s the difference?”
“You’ll be inside the car, and I’ll be outside the car.”
Monroe studies me, seriously considering whether to throw a tantrum. I really hope she does because her temper is sexy as fuck. Instead, she smiles and snuggles closer.
“You’re my hero.”
Grinning, I can’t deny her sweet side is sexy as fuck, too. Monroe rewards me with a blowjob that I still feel thirty minutes later when we return to Bronco’s house. With my balls in a Zen state, I don’t want drama with my uncle and Lowell. Yet, I need to get their crap out of the way before I ask Aja to start organizing on her end.
“Needy wants out,” I tell the men who drink beers next to the grill. “I plan to get her as soon as Aja’s ready.”
Frowning, Bronco scans his backyard. He’s looking for my mom as if I wouldn’t have checked before speaking. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his behavior.
“I’m coming,” Lowell says as Carina wanders over and reaches for her dad.
“Not necessary.”
While Bronco picks up his kid, Lowell leans closer to me. “Needy is Monroe’s mom, and Monroe is my kid. Do the math, hotshot.”
“Are you drunk?”
Lowell shrugs. “A little, yeah.”
“Well, I don’t need you to babysit.”
“You’re a child,” he says, tousling my hair until I smack away his hand. “Your sister is a baby. You need a grownup to supervise.”
Bronco snorts and tells Carina, “Uncle Lowell is wasted.”
“No,” she says and then points to my messy hair.
I glance at where Monroe does cartwheels with Pixie, Sidonie, and Desi.
“Where’s Anders?” I ask while Lowell and Bronco watch their daughters.
“He took Future and Chili home,” Bronco says, lifting Carina up so she can fix my hair. “I guess Fairuza went with them. Or maybe she’s with your mom.”
“Monroe’s athletic,” Lowell tells Bronco, who chuckles. “She was on a bunch of teams.”
“Yeah, you told me that the last time you were drunk.”
“Proud daddies are adorable,” I say while pulling out my phone. “I’m messaging Aja, so she can get a few of her friends to help out.”
“No one from the Serpent’s Eye,” Bronco reminds me as if I’m five. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”
Carina laughs at her father’s angry tone and covers his mouth with her hand. Lowell frowns at the kid.
“I never saw Monroe at that age. Missed it all.”
Figuring his drunk friend needs hand-holding, Bronco asks, “Where’s Topanga?”
“Inside with Lana,” Pixie says, apparently eavesdropping on our conversation.
“Will someone fetch her?” Bronco asks as Lowell sighs too much to be normal.
Stepping closer, I tell Lowell, “Don’t cry, man.”
“Did your mom scare Needy away?”
“No. It was Bambi.”
“Can you imagine Monroe with Rooster’s head?” Bronco asks, trying to change the subject as his daughter gives him goo-goo eyes.
“I don’t have to imagine,” I tell him. “I can just look at Taryn.”
“Burn,” Sidonie says and laughs with Desi.
“They’re getting catty,” I warn Bronco. “That’s a lot of teenage angst for one house.”
“Kid,” Bronco says in a dark tone, “I know. Trust me.”
“Carina has your eyes,” Lowell tells Bronco. “My girl has mine. Do all daughters take after their fathers?”
“My eyes are blue,” Sidonie announces to no one.
“I have brown eyes like my papa,” Pixie says while walking on her hands around the yard. “My sister has our mama’s blue eyes.”
“So, no,” I say to Lowell, who stares at Carina. “Not all daughters.”
Fascinated by how a dress-wearing Pixie walks around on her hands—while flashing her underwear at the crowd—my honey remains completely oblivious to the drama.
“Hey, Monroe, come over and hug your father.”
Joining us, she thinks I’m fucking around. Then, Monroe notices Lowell’s expression and frowns.
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s going through menopause,” Bronco mutters, grinning at me.
Monroe instantly glares at my uncle and growls, “Don’t mock him.”
“No!” Carina yells, waving her fist and scowling at Monroe.
“No, you,” Monroe mutters, waving her fist and snarling at the two-year-old. “I could so take you. I bet you don’t know how to headbutt at all.”
“Oh, she does,” Bronco says as his daughter defends his honor. “She’s also very good at groin stomps.”
“She pinches, too,” Desi announces, hurrying over with Sidonie so they can join in the action.
Monroe awkwardly hugs Lowell, who wraps her tightly against him.
“I’m cutting him off,” Bronco says and waves off his older girls. “Let the old-timer cry in private.”
Sidonie and Desi giggle at Lowell’s moodiness, but I enjoy the freaked-out expression on Monroe’s face. She’s days away from reuniting with her mom, and now her father’s gone clingy bitch on her. Aiming my phone, I take a few pictures of the daddy-daughter moment. That’s definitely a photo for the wall of our future home.
MONROE
My greatest fear about meeting Lowell was that he would be a heartless asshole and reject me. Needy spent years filling my head with how great he was, but I wasn’t an idiot. I always figured if he was so awesome, she would contact him about me. Deep inside, she worried he might destroy us to protect himself. That’s why her happy stories never ended with, “Hey, let’s call up your pa.”
But I know Needy felt guilty over Lowell missing out on knowing me. Back when we were living in the Georgia shithole, Mom nearly talked herself into contacting him. We needed help, and I noticed her eyeing the fathers at my soccer games. She wanted me to have what those kids did. Maybe Lowell would be proud of me and take pictures like a normal dad.
But Aunt Immee talked her out of it. I heard them on the phone. After the call, Needy hardened up. She got less nostalgic, more protective.
“No one’s taking you from me,” Mom said later that night while holding me too tightly.
I’ll never know what Lowell’s reaction might have been if he found out before Needy was run off. Or if she had contacted him when I was a kid. I sense Lowell softened up over the years, thanks to Topanga and Dunning. Age can dull a person’s jagged edges. Grandma McNamee often taunted Uncle Clive about going soft in his old age. He would grin at her teasing, but he also grinned when she died. I don’t really think he softened up much.
I’ll never know how things would have turned out. Just like Lowell won’t ever be able to watch me play soccer as a kid. Life offers no rewind button.
Tonight, booze makes Lowell sad or allows his emotions to bubble up unfiltered. We sit on a bench in front of his house where we can find a little privacy. Conor lingers nearby,
afraid Lowell will say something to hurt my feelings. I smile at how protective my man can be.
“I’ve missed everything,” Lowell says, staring at his hands.
“No, you mainly missed the gross stuff like potty training and my hormonal teen years.”
“I missed you learning to ride a bike.”
“You can teach me how to drive a motorcycle like you did with Dunning.”
“I missed seeing you walk.”
“You can get me stumbling drunk and then reteach me how to walk in a straight line.”
“I missed your first word.”
“It was crap.”
“Sounds about right,” Conor teases.
“My second word was mama. Then, it was juice, and then it was daddy. Even back then, you felt real to me.”
“I don’t like feeling this way,” Lowell says, frowning at his hands. “I never wanted a bunch of kids. That was Topanga’s dream. But she had so much trouble with Dunning’s birth that she couldn’t carry another one. I was fine with only one kid. But I had another one out in the world. You weren’t much older than Carina when Dunning was born. Sure, all that shit is obvious, but it’s just hitting me now.”
“Because Carina is really cute. When she’s around, I get baby on the brain, too.”
“I’m struggling with regrets, I guess. It’s not my fault you weren’t in my life. And as much as I want to blame Needy, I can see how she saw the situation. And life gets going in one direction, and it can be difficult to change things up. Topanga talked about more kids after her parents died, and she would no longer feel their judgment over not carrying the baby. I didn’t take that seriously. I was comfortable. I like routine. Wanting change always felt like an insult to my good life. As if I was tempting fate.”
“I feel that same way,” I say, overly excited by our similarity. “That’s why I didn’t run when my mom got married to that Kansas fucker. I kept waiting for her to come home, and then I got used to waiting rather than forcing myself to leave. I just get into a groove and don’t want to fuck that up.”
Lowell flashes me a sad frown. “But we miss shit when we don’t change. Bronco missed out on Summer when she was little. He didn’t want to deal with a kid. I heard him regretting that for years. Now, I realize I didn’t learn anything from his situation. I ignored Topanga wanting another baby, and I rejected you.”
“Look, I don’t know about Topanga and babies. But I do know that you hurt my heart a lot when you acted grossed out about me being your kid. I wasn’t lying about how I had my hopes up that you would instantly know I was part of you,” I say, and Lowell gives me the brokenhearted expression of a man too drunk to control himself. “But that was also only a few weeks ago. You were mean to me for a week. Then, you started adjusting to the change, and we’re better. Now, you behave in the way I hoped you would.”
I feel myself getting emotional but put the brakes on any tears. “As for missing out, yeah, that’s shitty. But I’m not old, and neither are you. We have new stuff for you to be there for. Like walking me down the aisle when I get married. Or helping us build our house. There’ll also be small everyday stuff. And that’s what I’ve always wanted. To be able to see and talk to you whenever I wanted.”
Lowell gives me a little smile. “Dunning is past all the cute kid shit. But I see Bronco’s girls and wonder what you were like at their ages.”
“I liked sports and hanging out with my mom. Nothing exciting, really. Wait, I did punch a boy in fourth grade and got suspended.”
“Why did you punch him?”
“He said he wanted to fuck Needy. She was the hottest mom in our grade, and he was talking about doing stuff to her that I now realize he didn’t actually know how to do. I said she wouldn’t date an ugly fat turd like him. Then, he called her a whore, and I punched him.”
Lowell and I share a grin. “I also feel guilty about living here while your mom struggled,” he says and gestures to his fancy house.
“You’ve gotten lucky, you know?” I say, and he gives me a little frown. “Like with who you knocked up. Topanga is a great mom. Needy is, too.”
“I really don’t remember your mom well. Did she take good care of you?”
“She was the best,” I whisper. “When we lived in a Georgia trailer park, there were wild storms that came through all the time. Our trailer shook and rumbled as if we were trapped in a tornado. I’d get so scared. Then, Needy would hold me and talk about how boring school would be tomorrow and what we’d eat for dinner the next day. She talked as if everything was normal and expected. All while her heart beat so calmly. Mom never feared those storms.”
My heart soars, remembering my mother’s arms around me. “One time, a knife-wielding junkie broke into our trailer to steal our TV. Needy told him he could have it as long as he didn’t hurt us. The man yelled for her to shut up and bring him the TV. So, she calmly picked it up and walked over. The TV wasn’t very big, maybe twenty inches. Then, she said, ‘Monroe, don’t wet yourself, baby.’ The guy looked at me, thinking I was pissing myself. That’s when she slammed that TV over his head as hard as she could. She nearly killed the guy. Later, she explained how if we were going to lose our TV, it might as well be destroyed as a weapon rather than getting sold off for drugs.”
Lowell grins. “I can see you doing that.”
I nearly blush when he compares me to my mom. “I know you come from shitty people, and Needy does, too. Yet, I really got lucky to have two strong parents. Even if I didn’t know you, I felt you in my heart. Mom told me so many stories about you and the club. This place lived in my heart long before I arrived here. Now, I could have you both in my life for real.”
Conor’s expression tenses when I look at him. He knows I’m scared of something going wrong with Needy’s extraction. What if trying to free her is what gets her killed? Should I have left well enough alone?
“We’ll get Needy away from that asshole,” Lowell promises instead of Conor. “Bring her here and let you both start over.”
His words shatter my resolve. I’ve refused to give in to my fear, disappointment, and grief for nearly a year. Crying doesn’t fix anything, yet it sure feels good as my dad hugs me and my hero stands nearby.
PART 8: FAMILY AFFAIR
CONOR
Reuniting Monroe with her mother feels like a bigger deal than taking over the club or even hunting down the men who killed my dad. I need to do right by my honey. Our relationship has been effortless in most ways. She looks at me like I’m her hero. If I fuck up the situation and get Needy killed, Monroe might never forgive me.
Not that she’s thinking about that when we drive to Kansas. Sitting in the back seat, she mostly focuses on enjoying her first road trip with Lowell and me.
“Disney World is old news,” she says when I mention taking our kids to the amusement parks one day. “We had passes when I was little. I’d rather fly to California and try those parks.”
“What about the honeymoon?” Lowell asks.
“Indonesia,” I reply immediately. “I’d like to travel for a month, going from country to country.”
Monroe’s eyes brighten. “Is that even possible?”
“Of course.”
“You watched too much ‘Amazing Race’ with your mom,” Lowell mutters. “A month is too long to be gone.”
“Dude, I get it. You’ll miss me,” I say, spurring him to roll his eyes. “But I want to travel while I’m young and childless. Now, I have someone to experience it with.”
Monroe strokes my jaw and then smiles at her dad. “I’ve never been outside the country. Think of all the fun stories we’ll have to share with our kids one day. I loved hearing about the wild shit my mom did when she was young.” Lowell glances at Monroe, who smiles wider. “I bet you have juicy dish from your youth, too.”
Grinning, Lowell does a good job of pretending to be relaxed. But I know he’s stressed. He remains that way overnight at the hotel we stop at on our way to a town just outside Kans
as City. He takes me aside—twice!—to explain how Monroe ought to wait behind.
“She isn’t trained to handle this shit,” he says, crowding me at the Mexican restaurant while his daughter dances around to music she can’t sing along with. “Monroe needs to be protected.”
“No, but thanks for trying to intimidate me. I needed the laugh.”
“Dickhead.”
The second time, he pushes a different angle. “What if we show up and shooting happens? Do you want Monroe to see Needy die? Or for you or me to take a bullet?”
Patting his chest, I explain, “If I’m going to die, I want her there to tell me goodbye. Hearing about it afterward would be worse.”
“That’s stupid.”
“What are we doing?” Monroe asks, crowding me on the other side as if helping Lowell. “People are starting to stare. I suspect they think you might make out.”
Lowell gives up on leaving her behind. I do notice he never considers asking her to obey. No, no, he wants to make me the bad guy. Typical lenient father shit. No wonder Dunning has such a foul mouth.
The next morning, we wait at a gas station parking lot for Aja’s group to arrive. My sister shows up fifteen minutes late, which is actually early for her. I take this fact as a sign that she’ll take today seriously.
Aja climbs out of the black SUV’s passenger seat. She’s ditched the nun outfit she used to contact Needy. Now, in a black tracksuit and a white T-shirt, she stops to tie her pink tennis shoes before walking to me. Behind her, two men and a woman exit the SUV.
“You said to bring muscle not patched into the Serpent’s Eye. This is all I could round up on short notice,” she says and then gestures at the big tatted monster to her right. “You remember my brother, Gully.”
“I figured you’d be a member of your dad’s club,” I tell the sandy-haired caveman biker.
“I bow to no man,” he growls dramatically.
“Yeah, but he’s got no problem with me busting his balls,” Aja says and points back at the other two. “The blond, pretty boy is my ex, Eckles. The redhead fox is my other ex, Minx. They’re tight with the Serpent’s Eye but not members.”
Frost (EEMC) Page 20
