“Is there ever an age when your daughters can no longer grab on to you and unleash all their crazy love?”
“Oh, I get it now,” Bronco says and lifts his beer. “Incoming, Lowell.”
My father takes a bit longer to catch up to how my shuffling feet aren’t stopping. He’s probably slow on the draw because Dunning isn’t a big hugger.
“Papa?” I whisper hopefully, and he rolls his eyes.
I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze. Lowell finally gives in to my charms and hugs me.
“Barbie called me a twat,” I say, smiling. “And maybe a bitch. I can’t remember. I was too busy coming up with insulting Barbie product names to call her.”
“Should I talk to her?”
Laughing is probably bad, but I do it anyway. Bronco chuckles at his friend.
“Yeah, that would totally make a difference,” I tease, still forcing him to hug me. “But I appreciate the offer.”
“Are you happy?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.
“I have my mommy and my daddy in the same place, a brother I can crush at one-on-one, and a man who plows me with great vigor. I’m living the dream.”
“Was that fucking part necessary?”
“It’s for Bronco,” I say, stepping back. “One day, his many daughters will be super horny for many men, and he’ll need practice hearing that crap without flying into a rage.”
“My girls can do whatever they want,” Bronco says.
“Your mouth says you’re cool with them porking, but your clenched jaw and that bulgy vein near your temple say you’re ready to preemptively fly into a rage.”
Lowell chuckles at his friend’s irritation, likely glad to no longer be the one on the spot. I wouldn’t mind tormenting Bronco more—purely to entertain my father, of course—but Topanga’s SUV pulls into the drive. Inside is the only man I’ve ever beaten in basketball.
“Time to crush Dunning,” I sigh as he struts around the driveway while arrogantly signaling how he’s ready to be destroyed. Over my shoulder, I announce, “So long, powerful men. Try not to make any plans that upset my lover.”
Lowell loses his smile while Bronco looks suspicious. I leave them to whisper like gossipy hens. I hope the men realize how lucky they are to have a stud like Conor in the bullpen. Who else do they have ready to take over? My brother is cocky as hell, but he’s a baby in a million ways. Wyatt’s older than Conor but just as immature as Dunning. Amid a second generation of toddler toughs, Conor shines brighter than them all. Hell, I bet he’s smarter than even the Executioners’ founders.
My man’s got it all, but I suspect people around here take his gifts for granted. He’s always just shined, making it seem less special than when Wyatt acts like a grownup for five minutes.
But while I destroy my brother at one-on-one, I can imagine Dunning one day watching Conor’s back. He’s got the right ingredients to be a solid VP—smart, acts like he’s a jokester despite him always watching people, and loves to share his opinion. I don’t know if he’ll have the balls to tear someone apart like Anders, but he could back up Conor for decades. That image warms my heart and makes the future seem less shaky.
CONOR
The return of Needy Hobbs to Elko doesn’t go smoothly. She’s in a bad mood before even setting foot in town. Lowell tells her how Messy Bessie wasn’t pregnant or killed. She disappeared after the club found out she was secretly dating a guy from a nearby town who just happened to have a cop brother. The old ladies used the bunnies’ curiosity over Bessie’s disappearance to create a tale of a knocked-up whore who didn’t know her place. That story helped convince Needy to run and stay away. Why risk her life or Monroe’s? Except it was all a lie.
Lowell fessed up the truth as a way to calm Needy’s fears about returning to the place she fled. Instead, he made her doubt her choices over all the years. She’s still nursing those hurts the first time she visits Lowell’s house. As soon as she spots Bambi across the street, Needy flips off the older blonde. Of course, my aunt goes apeshit and runs for her. Jumping to her mom’s aid, Monroe threatens to kick Bambi’s ass. Needy claims she ought to do it.
“You threatened to kill my baby and me!” Needy screams.
“I’ll kill you now, bitch.”
“No one’s fucking dying,” Lowell mutters, stepping between the angry women.
“I’m punching your daughter in the face!” Monroe screams despite Taryn not currently being in the state.
“Don’t you threaten my baby!”
“Like you threatened to kill mine?” Needy demands, bringing them full circle to how it all started.
Finally, I get involved by pointing out, “Bambi’s evil. Needy’s slutty. Monroe’s got anger issues. Lowell might be impotent.”
“Watch it, kid,” he growls.
Bambi wags her fist at me. “I am not evil.”
“I was slutty in my youth,” Needy admits and then shrugs. “There’s no harm in wanting to fuck, and the men in Executioners were packing dick heat.”
“Ah, Daddy,” Monroe coos, nudging Lowell. “You were a stud.”
“Leave me alone,” he says, storming off before she can catch him grinning.
“He’s pretending to be the serious person in this bunch,” I explain when Monroe thinks he might actually be upset.
“I am not evil,” Bambi says again.
“We heard you,” I tell my aunt.
“I helped raise you.”
“Well, you did a terrible job,” I announce, smirking at her annoyed expression. “That’s three failures, Bambi. Maybe childrearing isn’t your strong suit.”
“Ha!” Needy yells, which forces me to literally stand between the warring women to prevent them from throwing punches.
Finally, Rooster shuffles his lazy ass across the street and removes his pissed woman from Lowell’s driveway. I corral my two ladies, forcing them inside, where a stressed Topanga waits.
“You gave Lowell a daughter,” Topanga croaks at Needy.
The two women watch each other while Lowell looks ready to get involved.
“You gave him a son,” Needy says quietly. “And you and Lowell fell in love. That was never him and me. Get it?”
Topanga exhales roughly. “Yes, I get it.”
Monroe hugs both women and then asks Lowell if he’s shy about his manhood. That distracts from everyone’s earlier awkwardness and gets Topanga into a brag-fest about how her man still has all the right moves. Soon, only Lowell feels awkward.
Days after that clusterfuck near-miss, Topanga throws a party at her house to celebrate the importance of family.
“She wants people to know she’s okay with Needy being around,” Monroe said earlier while riding my dick. “Topanga gets bullied a lot by the tougher old ladies. She wants to prove she’s cool with Lowell’s baby mama living in Elko.”
“You know I can’t think when you grind my cock like that,” I mumbled while she threw her head back and bounced faster.
After our fuck, we rested in bed and talked about how we shouldn’t punch anyone at the party.
Uninterested in promises, she asked again, “What do we do about Francis?”
I replied with the same, “I don’t know,” as I’ve said since we returned to town. Needy filing for divorce allows Francis to confirm her location. Even if we get a lawyer away from Elko, Clive McNamee will put two and two together.
More than once, I’ve considered calling Clive to explain the situation and scare him off. Except Monroe makes her uncle sound as if he views every other alpha as an immediate challenge.
“He sees problems where none exist,” Monroe told me once. “That’s why he wanted to marry me off to a political dork. Just in case he might need one of those nerds in his pocket someday.”
Even if I thought calling him and playing cool was a smart play, Bronco and Lowell made clear how they don’t want me making moves without their go-ahead. My voice represents the club. If Clive fights me, he’s fighting every Ex
ecutioner.
I decide to give the situation a few more days. That way, Needy can get comfortable in her new setup before I force the issue with Bronco. Besides, I have this fucking party to worry about first.
On edge, I sense Bambi might cause trouble. Or, worse, my mom could take a stand against the whores in my life. Topanga can’t handle fighting at her party.
“They ain’t coming,” Rooster announces after grabbing himself a beer and filling a bowl with pork egg rolls.
“Who?” Lowell asks despite seeming more interested in why Dunning is eyeballing Monroe.
“My woman and kids.”
“By kids, do you mean DeAnna, too?” Topanga asks in an overly excited voice.
“She might be pregnant, so no punching her for a while.”
Monroe and Pixie share a smile before my woman whispers to Needy about why they’re grinning. Anders just grunts and eyeballs the egg rolls. Pixie must realize her giant needs food because she begins piling crap on a platter for him. Not a plate. No, a massive fucking platter!
“I wish I could eat that much,” I tell Monroe as she dances around the living room.
“You can. Just puke it up afterward, so you don’t get tubby, future hubby.”
I realize Monroe’s not dancing as much as baiting her brother into attacking. I have no idea how this game started, but they’ve been playing a rather aggressive form of tag since their basketball match earlier in the week. I suspect that’s why she’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt rather than a dress. Easier to run and wrestle that way.
“How often do these kinds of parties happen?” Needy asks Monroe while the three of us stand near the back door.
“The community parties are monthly,” I answer when Monroe just shrugs. “Smaller parties are weekly. People like to socialize in the Woodlands.”
“But I don’t have to do this, right? I hated that crap with Francis. Dressing up and smiling at a lot is the lamest use of my time,” Needy mutters, revealing a rage that makes me wonder how she put up with her forced-hubby for so long. Then, I catch her smiling at Monroe and accept how people will tolerate a lot of shit to protect those they love. “I admit the food is much better at this party. The music, too. I kid you not, Francis listened to Yanni.”
Monroe and I shudder in unison and then share a grin at how we’re twins. Then, before I can distract Monroe from scanning the room for her brother, Bronco shows up and asks to speak to me alone.
“Club business,” he says when Monroe and Needy wear matching frowns.
I give Monroe’s ass a loving pat before following Bronco away from the family room. When we end up in a hallway, I glance back at Monroe, who looks worried. Her concern makes my heart warm and my dick hard.
No one’s ever loved me like Monroe does. If Bronco announced he was never retiring or even if he was handing power to Wyatt, I’d be okay. Years ago, I’d have bailed, raging at how I failed and could never live up to my father’s legacy. With Monroe at my side, though, nothing can break me. I’ll just step back from any disappointment, adjust, and move on.
“We need to clear the air,” Bronco tells me.
“Sure.”
“I came to realize that you might believe the slow-go process of changing presidents is a slight against you.”
“Well, yeah, why wouldn’t anyone think you were blue balling out of concern that I couldn’t do the job?”
“Because I said that wasn’t the reason.”
“But you’re my uncle, and you don’t like it when I cry. So, yeah, you’re going to lie.”
My wording inspires an eye roll from Bronco. “Fine. I get that. Lana mentioned how you might see things that way. Then, Monroe said something about messing with your feelings.”
I glance back at where Monroe pretends to be listening to Rooster, but I know she’s really focused on inching closer to eavesdrop on my conversation.
“Look, I get how you feel,” Bronco mutters when I can’t stop looking at Monroe. “It wasn’t that long ago when I was acting like a fool over Lana, unable to pay attention to anything else.”
“Why are you talking as if that behavior is past tense?”
“I’ve adjusted,” Bronco grumbles, hating how I challenge him yet also loving the pushback.
“Because of my great respect for you, I won’t correct you on that.”
“Funny, but I need you to ignore Monroe as she slinks this direction.”
“I’m able to focus on you both.”
“Conor,” Bronco says in a softer voice, “I need to take things slow because of me, not you.”
Focusing on him, I nod. “You’re not ready to retire.”
“I might be. I don’t know. When retiring is a year off, the plan seems fine. Then, I get closer to that moment, and my chest hurts. The club is the core of my entire adult life. Stepping back means I’m not me, and I don’t know how to be anyone else.”
I recall what Monroe said about Bronco wanting to act like an old man without being an old man. I glance in her direction and find her inching close while Rooster follows. My uncle doesn’t seem to notice—or care—that she isn’t listening. He just wants to finish his story.
“I have plans,” Bronco continues. “Things I want to do with Lana and the girls. Summer is moving to Boston for college soon. I need more flexibility. It’s all good in my head. Then, I think of stepping back, and my chest hurts again. That’s not you.”
Studying my uncle, I see him as a flesh-and-blood man rather than the unbreakable president I grew up admiring. Bronco, like his sisters, grew up rough and abused. They built a nice life, but they’ll never outrun their pasts.
I imagine Bronco wanting to be just a husband, father, and friend. No more club burdens on his shoulders. Yet, he’s also giving up the shield he built around himself to keep his past at bay. It’s the same reason my mom is always moving around, jogging, gardening, and starting shit. She fears the quiet. Maybe that’s why Bambi is so lenient about her adult children and grandson living in her house. The Parrish kids grew up and gained power, but the quiet will always take them back to their shitty shack house, crazy mother, and violent father.
When I imagine Bronco dealing with his crap, I’m not in such a hurry to become president. Why can’t I wait and let him ease into this new life? I’m not even thirty. I have plenty of time to run shit and prove myself. As a kid, I always knew Uncle Bronco would help me out. Why shouldn’t I do the same for him now?
“I’m good with how you want to do things,” I say, truly feeling the words for the first time. “Going slow is better for me as long as it’s not because you think I’m a disappointment.”
Bronco’s expression warms. “For years, I’ve waited for you to turn into Wheels,” he says, and I feel my stomach churn with the idea that I can’t live up to my father’s memory. “But you’re never going to be him. That’s why I know I can trust you with the club. Though I loved that man like a brother, he didn’t have the heart to lead.”
I let myself really see my father in my head, something I try to avoid. Grief crippled too many people in the Woodlands after he died. I didn’t want to suffer that weakness, so I avoided reminiscing. But the image of him laughing on the front steps of our house nearly knocks me back. He always felt a little out of reach. I figured that came from me being a kid. However, I never felt any closer to entering his bubble when I grew up. Billy Jessup refused to let people linger in his heart, not even his wife, kid, and best friends.
I’d be lying if I claimed I didn’t wish he was alive now to see me taking over the club. Much of my life was spent wanting his attention and approval. Now, when I’m finally about to make my big move, he isn’t here to see it.
“Yeah, kid, I know,” Bronco says, patting my shoulder.
I don’t know what he sees on my face, but Monroe must notice it, too. She ditches Rooster, ignores Bronco, and nearly dives for my arms.
“I can’t help it,” Monroe explains, though I’m unsure if she’s talking to Bronco
or me.
I hold her against me for a minute and get my feelings under control again. Though I’m not crying here, people don’t expect me to reveal many emotions. One little frown can seem as if I’m falling apart.
“I can leave,” Monroe tells Bronco while gripping me. “I can walk away if you’re not done.”
Bronco grins because he hears what I do. This little chick is challenging him. She wants our conversation to be over, and he needs to make that happen. Monroe might fear her uncle, but a lot of his cockiness clearly rubbed off on her. It’s why she’s so fucking irresistible.
“Do we understand each other?” Bronco asks me.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Smiling now, Monroe backs away a little to admire us. “Damn, you’re a good-looking family.”
I open my mouth to warn Monroe how her own good-looking family member is about to slap her, but Dunning is too fast. He nails her upper back before making a run for the basement. Monroe’s expression rushes straight past shock to excited rage. Then, she remembers how I’m dealing with emotional crap and hesitates.
Stroking her cheek, I say, “Go and beat Dunning into shape. I need him to help me run the club one day.”
Monroe gives me the sweetest smile. For a second, I feel as if I’ve known her forever. That’s why everything is so comfortable between us. Two months ago, she was no one to me. Yet, I already sensed something big would happen between us. As usual, I wasn’t wrong.
PART 9: UNWILLING TO SAY GOODBYE
MONROE
Zella and I were an opposites-attract sort of thing. We just clicked. I always felt so lucky to have my cousin become a best friend. I would have struggled in Minton without her guidance.
Just like I would have struggled the first month in Elko if not for Amity. The other girls are nice enough, sometimes catty, but never mean. The Overlook felt like a fun place, but I was homesick, worried about my mom, scared about telling Lowell he was my dad, and pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Amity’s calm, rather passive personality comforted me. Within days, I was attached to her.
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