“Rebel, do you want to know a secret?” After he nods, I whisper, “I could have run away a bunch of times when your dad wasn’t in jail. Back when you were a baby or when you were walking or when you were first starting school. If I left you, I could have run, but I didn’t because what’s the point of being free if I can’t have you?”
“But you have the baby.”
When Rebel gets too tired, he falls into a loop. No amount of reassurance can settle his fears.
“Do you remember when we were in the SUV and heard that coyote?” I ask.
Rebel takes a long time to switch gears in his head. He just keeps thinking about how I’m leaving him or sending him away.
But then he remembers that night with the coyote and smiles. “We talked about ‘Jurassic Park’ with the T-Rex outside the car.”
“And remember when it would thunder so loud, and I’d get scared?” I ask while wrapping my hands around his smaller ones. “We’d cuddle so close in the dark.”
“I took care of you.”
“Yes.”
“And you took care of me.”
“And that’s never going to change. Well, maybe you won’t want me to take care of you when you’re a teenager. You’ll probably think I’m not cool.”
Rebel smiles wider. “I’ll have a girlfriend.”
“And I won’t like her because I’ll be jealous.”
“Like I’m jealous of Jack.”
“Yeah, but mamas don’t leave their babies behind when they get a boyfriend,” I lie, knowing plenty do. “When you’re grown up, you’ll want to have your own life.”
“Jack likes his mom. He likes his sister too. He’s always around his family, and he’s grown up.”
“I hope you’ll be like that with me.”
“I promise I will,” he says, settling down. “I’ll get an RV and put it in your yard.”
We laugh quietly. “I’m sorry I was out for a long time tonight.”
“It wasn’t so long, but it felt that way.”
I kiss his forehead and sigh. “I’m really tired.”
“Me too.”
“Can I hold your hands a little longer to help me relax?”
Nodding, Rebel closes his eyes. “You can wake me up if you get scared.”
I smile at my baby’s relaxed expression, but in some ways, life was easier when we were always afraid. That was our main focus. Now there are a lot of unknowns, and we aren’t sure how to plan for them.
The next morning, Rebel wants to hold my hand when we leave the guest room for breakfast. He tightens his grip when other people join us. In fact, the more Jack talks, touches, or even looks at me, the clingier Rebel becomes.
“Hey, little man,” Jack says awkwardly.
I catch Scarlet and Phoebe sharing an eye roll after hearing his word choice. Rebel just stares at Jack and tightens his grip on my hand.
“When I was your age, my pop would let me come along when he rode his Harley. How about you and I do a quick ride around and see if you like it?”
“No,” he says.
“Can I go?” Janis asks and tugs on Jack’s arm. “I’ll only scream for half the ride.”
Stepping between Jack and Janis, Cady smiles at her uncle. “I’ll be super quiet if you take me.”
“I was looking to hang out with a dude today,” Jack says as the girls tug at his arms.
I’m relieved Rebel doesn’t want to ride the Harley. I’ve never been on one before, and they look dangerous. But then Rebel gets competitive with the girls and asks if he can still ride.
Jack must see something on my face because he says, “Only if your mom says it’s okay.”
Behind me, Phoebe whispers something to Scarlet, who nods wildly. I think they understand how Jack’s put me on the spot. I’m the bad guy if I say no. Clearly, he should have asked first. But Jack doesn’t get that because he doesn’t think like a parent. He’s the fun uncle. Rules and boundaries are problems for Phoebe and Scarlet to deal with.
With Jack, Rebel, and the girls looking at me, I don’t want to share my concerns. Better to keep my mouth shut rather upset anyone.
“Is it safe?” Phoebe asks from the kitchen. “He’s never rode on the back of a Harley before.”
Smiling, I silently thank her for giving a voice to the question I’m too scared to ask. Jack seems to get what’s happening and wiggles free from his nieces.
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and smiles down at me. “He’ll wear a helmet, and I’ll go slow. We’ll stay on the backroads with no traffic.”
Based on his expression, Rebel isn’t sure he wants to go, but he doesn’t want to be a chicken in front of the girls. Of course, they’re older than he is, and they grew up around motorcycles.
“Promise?” I ask Jack, staring hard into his eyes.
Studying me, Jack struggles with my fear. Having grown up in this life, he doesn’t understand why any of this should be scary.
“I swear on my life,” he tells me with great intensity before glancing at Rebel. “If you don't like it, we can even stop and push the bike back here. I won’t be mad.”
“It’s not scary,” Janis tells Rebel. “Jack drives like an old lady.”
Serious expression gone, Jack gives Janis a weird smile, and she takes off running. But it’s too late. He grabs her shirt and yanks her back against his body.
“Old lady, you say?” he mutters before tickling her.
While they goof around, I lean over and whisper to Rebel, “You don’t have to.”
My son really doesn’t want to go. He’s clearly afraid but insists on trying. My teary eyes don’t help his confidence. Jack, though, swears again it’ll be fine.
After everyone’s bundled up in jackets, we walk outside. I struggle not to cry as the Harley leaves the farm with my son looking so small as he holds onto Jack.
“Don’t worry,” Yancy says and hugs me. “Jack never lets us fall off, and I rode when I was way littler than Rebel.”
“Smaller,” Cady corrects.”
“No, you’re smaller.”
I’m still getting accustomed to how suddenly the girls can descend into wild bickering. While they argue over grammar, I wait for Jack and Rebel to return.
“Jack’ll learn,” Scarlet says as she and Phoebe join me on the porch. “It’s only been a week.”
“I’m worried about tomorrow,” I blurt out. “Jack is meeting with the people from Milkweed.”
“He won’t be alone,” Scarlet reassures me.
“But they’re dangerous.”
Phoebe and Scarlet share a smile before the petite brunette pats my back. “Don’t let their pretty looks fool you. The Reapers are the scariest fuckers in Kentucky.”
The girls stop bickering long enough to appreciate how Phoebe cussed. Then they focus on Bowie running out of the house. Maddy appears with Lemmy and asks why we’re all standing around.
“Jack is practicing his daddy skills,” Scarlet explains.
Maddy’s pretty face lights up, forever proud of her kids. With everyone around me smiling, I finally get my sniffles under control. I watch the sisters chase Bowie, who also gets corralled by the dogs. Yet he refuses to give up on his escape.
Soon, Lemmy claps at the sound of the returning Harley. Even Bowie stops running from his sisters long enough to notice Jack and Rebel. Then he’s off again.
“Our boy’s a free spirit,” Scarlet says and kisses Phoebe’s cheek. “And this little man,” she announces while taking Lemmy, “is our clown.” Then Scarlet looks at my belly. “I can’t wait to find out what my nephew will be like.”
Now completely over my earlier tears, I’m smiling like a fool when Rebel runs toward me. He’s wearing the biggest grin.
Even before I reward Jack with a long kiss, he looks very proud at how things turned out. Rebel doesn’t immediately grip my hand when he sees our affection. He just stares in awe at Jack. I’m very impressed with the hunk too.
That doesn’t mean I’m no
t still terrified about him sharing the same room as Sean Hegseth or anyone else from Milkweed. Nervous or not, I can only trust that—despite his beauty—Jack is one of the scariest fuckers in Kentucky.
THE CHAPTER WHERE SOUR MILK STINKS UP THE PLACE
THE HOTHEAD
Most mornings, Georgia is the last to get up. I don’t know if she’s normally a deep sleeper or the baby is zapping her energy. Maybe a little of both.
On Monday morning, I find her in the kitchen when I walk into the house. She stares at her coffee cup, wearing an expression of pure dread.
Joining her at the table, I take her hand and promise before she even opens her mouth, “No one is taking Rebel.”
“They’re sneaky.”
Smiling, I love how she still views my family, club, and me as the good guys. We’re just sexy teddy bears and feisty unicorns in her mind.
“Today is about dragging out shit until Patrick is dealt with. Then you'll never have to worry about them again.”
Georgia nods, but she doesn’t trust me. Again, she views the Milkweed fuckers as a dark force facing off with rainbows and best wishes. How can we possibly win?
I kiss her softly. Then with a little more heat before my brain wakes up enough to remember we have an audience.
My sister watches me in that “don’t fuck this up” way she tends to whenever she thinks she ought to be in charge of shit. Phoebe stares at the ground before she smiles randomly. My sister-in-law is not a morning person, and her brain won’t be functioning fully for a few hours.
Georgia looks as tired as Phoebe, and I worry about her getting enough rest. When she skips a nap in the afternoon, she’s like a zombie by sundown.
“I’ll come home for lunch so we can talk about it and you’ll know nothing bad happened.”
Georgia smiles, but I think she’s mostly excited I’ll be back early. Especially now that we can sneak away for sexy times.
I promise again how no one will get their grimy hands on Rebel and then convince her to return to bed.
“Just until Rebel wakes up, so he won’t be scared to find himself alone.”
Already worried about her boy, she immediately agrees to climb back in bed with him. She stares at Rebel, fighting tears. I kiss her head and whisper, “No one fucks with my family.” She looks up at me and forces a smile. It’s her nature to worry, but I find her zonked out by the time I’m ready to leave for work.
The Conroe Sheriff's Office is a small beige building on the edge of town. It’s a six-person operation with two volunteer deputies. Back when we first moved out here, and even a few years ago, the sheriff might have asked too many questions. Then my aunt was elected mayor and Bubba greased all the right palms. Now the Sheriff’s Office is under the control of the local Reapers chapter.
I arrive early to the meeting, only to find the lot full of cars. No Harleys are visible after Bubba texted everyone last night about not driving our bikes. He really wants to keep the club angle out of sight for now.
That morning, I put on a long sleeve knit shirt to cover my tats. Plus, I chose loose jeans—that Scarlet calls my saggy ass pants—to make me seem less intimidating. I even slide a John Deere hat over my hair, so I look like every other fucking guy in this town.
Inside the office, Sheriff Harold Hamm is already in a conference room with the “outsiders” as the receptionist calls them. I spot Bubba and Butch dressed like fucking lumberjacks. Matching ones, at that! There are moments when I’m very happy I do not have a brother.
We enter a small conference room where Hamm, his assistant, Shirleen, and Deputy Dave sit at one end of a long table.
Three uniformed men huddle at the other end. One is Sean Hegseth. The older guy is Milkweed’s Sheriff Moore, and the third is a deputy Sylvie tagged as the other problem guy at their department.
“We can’t start yet,” Bubba says when Moore speaks. “We’re waiting for the mayor.”
The urge to roll my eyes nearly wins over my need to behave. Bubba glances at me to see if I’ll give him shit for inviting his mother to this shitstorm. I only stare at Sean Hegseth and imagine him begging for mercy.
Aunt Bailey enters the room wearing her “boss lady” gray pantsuit. Her blonde hair is pulled back in her “take me serious” bun, and she wears her sensible grandma shoes just in case she needs to kick someone in the ass.
“Let’s move this along, shall we?” she asks as if she wasn’t the last to enter. I can’t deny Bailey’s bitchiness entertains me at times. “You’re here to request visitation.”
“To avoid taking this issue to court,” Hamm clarifies and gives Moore a nod.
“What’s wrong with a judge hashing this out?” Bailey asks immediately as if she doesn’t already know the answer. “An impartial person to oversee the issue sounds reasonable.”
The Milkweed sheriff doesn’t miss a beat, but he does make the mistake of responding to his Conroe counterpart rather than my aunt. Yeah, she won’t like that.
“This doesn’t have to be combative,” Moore insists.
“I’ve looked over the information we have regarding the Hegseth family,” Bailey says, ignoring the sheriff’s comment while organizing paperwork that I seriously doubt has anything to do with Georgia, Rebel, or Milkweed. “The child’s father is in prison, and his mother lives in Conroe. Who exactly would this visitation arrangement be for then?”
“Patrick is expected to be released in January,” Moore mutters, doing a poor job of hiding his irritation. I think the bald fucker prefers his women to be on the submissive side.
“So why are we talking now?” Bailey asks, wide-eyed and friendly. Oh, she’s putting on one helluva show.
“Rebel’s grandmother helped raise the boy, and she wants to know he’s safe.”
Bailey nods. “So, this is a proof-of-life situation until the inmate is released and can take this matter to court.”
“Rebel is my nephew,” Sean grumbles, losing his temper. He clearly doesn’t like the bitchy woman talking out of turn. Sean better hope my aunt doesn’t lose her shit or this meeting might turn into the O.K. Corral. “I have a right to see him.”
“I’m confused,” Bailey mutters. “How are you related to Rebel?”
“He’s my nephew.”
“And the inmate is your brother.”
Sean’s ass leaves his seat, and I imagine him leaping across the table to put Bailey in her place. As much as I hope to shoot him in the face today, his sheriff gestures for the man to sit back down.
“Patrick has made some mistakes, but he has rights,” Moore states, rubbing at his bearded jaw. “As does his mother, who desperately misses her grandson.”
“Legally,” Bailey says, grinning at Sean while speaking to Moore, “in this state, grandparents have no rights. Now, I could be wrong, and a judge might decide to offer Missus Hegseth visitation.”
“How do we know Rebel is safe?” Moore asks, hardening his voice just a little.
Bailey sighs. “I can understand why you’d be worried. The poor boy’s arm was broken last year. That wasn’t you, right?”
“Listen,” Sean says, losing his temper again.
Bailey leans back and smiles at his anger. “Is that your way of saying yes?”
“This isn’t productive,” Moore mutters, patting Sean’s wrist. “Rebel’s grandmother is harmless, and she misses the child.”
“Have her travel here, and we’ll arrange for her to see the boy. Supervised, of course,” Bailey announces while messing with her paperwork again. “If Rebel wants a second visit, we’ll organize it. That’s only for the grandmother. When the inmate is released, we’ll have to arrange something else.”
Listening to Bailey, I really, really want to speak up. Rebel shouldn’t be anywhere near these fucking people, but I keep my mouth shut. Bailey has a plan.
Or maybe she doesn’t. I don’t know because I had no idea she’d be here. She’s only met Rebel in passing twice, and she possibly thinks he wants to hang out with
his grandma.
These are the moments when I feel on the outside. First, Soso and Bubba figure out a plan. Then, Bubba runs it by Butch. Next, the brothers include their mommy. Finally, after everything’s been decided, I get to hear about shit.
As irritated as I am, Sean Hegseth is nearly spitting with rage.
“That boy belongs to my family. He doesn’t have people here.”
“His mother lives here,” Bailey says, pretending to be oblivious to Sean’s rage. “Georgia has family here, meaning the boy has family too. I’m glad you drove to Conroe to work this out. Why don’t you get hold of Grandma and see when she can head this way? Does she like Dairy Queen? We have a new one next door where she and the boy can talk.”
Sheriff Moore focuses on Sheriff Hamm and sighs. “You said we could work this out.”
“No, I said we could talk. I never promised you’d get what you wanted.”
“Why is she even here?” Sean growls, gesturing at Bailey.
“That was my question!” Bailey cries. “I told these boys that this was court business, but they claimed people from Milkweed didn’t believe in the courts or were afraid of them. I thought that was a whole lot of hooey, but then they explained Rebel’s father’s current address, and I understood why maybe you’d want to step outside the court system to deal with this matter.”
“Smarmy fuckers,” Sean hisses, going full rage and making me fight a smile.
The asshole’s anger puts a little grin on Bubba’s face too. Butch, though, just looks like he might have died standing up. No, wait, I just saw him blink.
“Let’s talk about what happened to my wife,” Sean demands while his boss tries to settle him down. “Where’s the justice there?”
“We discussed this on the phone,” Hamm says, sounding bored. “If your wife wants to press charges against Miss Baranov, that’s fine, but Miss Russo will want to press charges against Missus Hegseth too. How do you expect us to get your justice without including the courts, Deputy?”
“This is bullshit,” Sean says to his boss. “You know they’re fucking with us. Why are those assholes even here?” he demands and gestures at Bubba, Butch, and me. “Who are they?”
Heart Like Mine (Reapers MC: Conroe Chapter, #3) Page 15
