by Jessica Joy
“Okay, six sounds good. I’ll be ready,” she responds, again not looking at me.
“No.” I’m not dealing with this today. No fucking way will she be anywhere near that mess tonight.
She shifts and brings one knee up onto the bed so she can see me, a glare aimed my way.
“Yes,” she says firmly.
“No Tess. No way in hell,” I say, sitting up and pulling my hands through my hair in obvious frustration.
“Sawyer. I’m going. This is not a discussion.”
“Like hell it’s not. You are not getting anywhere near this thing tonight,” I say, trying to keep my anger in check.
“How many times do I have to say this? He’s my son, Sawyer. You will not keep me out of this. I think I proved that when I drove my ass across the country to be here after you tried to leave me behind. You have another thing coming if you think I’ll let you do that to me again Sawyer McGrath,” she says, clearly trying her best to keep her voice even.
I throw the sheet from my body and stand from the bed; thankful I have a pair of black boxer briefs on at least. Yelling at her with my cock in the wind is not high on my list at the moment. Hell, yelling at her no matter what is nowhere near the top of the list of things I want to be doing with her. There is no way in fucking hell I can let her be there tonight.
“You are not coming Tessa. End of story. Do not fucking test me on this woman,” I growl, yanking my hand through my hair again as I pace next to the bed. Tension knots my shoulders painfully, every muscle in my body tight and coiled like a cobra ready to strike.
“Don’t test you? Are you fucking kidding me Sawyer? I am not some property or child you can boss around, you Neanderthal! I’m going and you will not stand in my way. I’m the one who got him away from that fucker the last time and I will do it again, goddammit!” she yells, coming to her feet but staying rooted in her spot with her fist clenched at her sides.
“Like hell you will! How the fuck do you expect to get him back Tessa? You going to waltz up to David and ask nicely? You know as sure as shit if David sees you, he is not going to let either of you go. You are staying here and that’s final.” I grind out, my jaw ticking with tension. “I told you I would get him. I told you I would bring him home to you. I told you I would get OUR boy! You are not coming Tessa, so just fucking drop it.”
She lets out a pained keening scream of frustration, clearly losing all grip on her restraint, tears streaming down her face.
“I need you SAFE!” I bellow back, my rattling the mirror on the wall above the dresser. Tessa gives me a shocked look, clearly not expecting my response to be so explosive. I lower my head and take a deep breath, my shoulders slumping and my arms going limp at my sides. “I just need you safe Tess,” I breathe.
“I will be Sawyer. It’s not like I am going alone,” she says, still firm but no longer shouting. With a heavy sigh, I collapse back onto the bed, my elbows braced on my knees and head in my hands. This isn’t what I needed today. There is no way she can understand what she is asking of me right now. It goes so much deeper than just this, than just today.
All this shit, it’s everything I have been trying to leave behind, been running from. I never wanted to tell her, never wanted her to find out just what a failure I am. Once she knows it all… I won’t be able to stomach seeing that light fade from her eyes, watch her pull away and run from me. Exactly as she should. I’m not a good man, but damn if she makes me feel like one; want to be one.
“Did I ever mention I am one of five kids?” I ask, my voice weak and hardly above a whisper. “I have four younger siblings. Being the oldest of five sucked, I can’t imagine how Ma did it. Three unruly boys and two insane girls. She is a goddamn saint for not skinning all of us alive.”
I feel the mattress dip as Tessa sits down again, on the opposite side from me, but at least I know she’s listening.
“Beth is a year younger than I am, practically Irish twins. She’s always been the peacekeeper of the lot. Such a mom to all of us growing up when Ma wasn’t around. She’s a nurse in New York now, works in the NICU with all the tiny and sick babies. You should have seen her the first day she came to visit after getting the job. I’ve never seen a woman so bright and happy about being puked and shit on all day.” a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “She is doing what she was destined to do, to be a mother to many. She landed herself some hot shot attorney she met on the job; dude’s actually pretty decent for being a lawyer. They’ve got this perfect place in NYC with a view of the park, happy and homey.”
“Trevor, God, Trevor was always the classic middle child. With so much chaos all the time from the other rugrats running around, he basically went unnoticed most of the time; until he stirred some shit. He and I are, and always have been exact polar opposites. Quiet to my showy, rigid to my moral flexibility, honest to my, well, creative truths. He’s off in the Marines somewhere; special forces. I haven’t heard from him in years, but neither has anyone else and that generally means he’s ok. At least they let you know when you can stop hoping for a Christmas visit…
“Melody… little Melly, was always the princess. She could do no wrong in my book and to be fair, I still think that,” I can’t help giving a little chuckle at that. It’s true, I will always think that girl hung the stars. “Whipcrack smart and showing her lumbering oafs of brothers up before she was out of diapers. She’s a grad student at NYU right now working her way toward some sciencey thing that I can never explain but she can for hours on end. She’s going to make the world better someday, hell she already has when it comes to Ma’s little clutch.”
“Brandon’s the youngest. He was an “oops” baby that showed up just after my tenth birthday. From day one that kid followed me around like the sun shone out my ass and I shat gold bricks. Whenever I stirred shit Brandon was right there behind me, keeping watch or getting up to his eyeballs in it too. Most older siblings hate having their little siblings hanging on them or following them everywhere. Not me; I loved every minute I spent with Brandon. Called him Shadow cuz he was always right there behind me, stepping on my heels. He had a wicked stutter when he was little, so whenever I was in the mood to be the shit older brother, I’d call him Bumble. Yeah, not the cleverest nickname, but it became my thing. Everyone knew him as Shadow… but he was always my Bumble-Mumble.”
“I joined the Knights of Mayhem MC after I got out of trade school; Mechanic, obviously. Brandon was always hanging around the Clubhouse with me and the Brothers, surprise, surprise. He prospected as soon as he graduated high school, literally walked from the stage to the Clubhouse. I tried to talk him into going to college or at least a trade school, something to let him be better than me, but he was stubborn as a fuckin’ mule. He was patched a year later, and I don’t think I have ever felt more proud, or ashamed, in my life. I had hoped for better for him, God knows I got up to plenty of nasty shit with the Club, but it meant I got my little Shadow back full time.”
“The club in Jersey was into a lot shadier shit than the Sons. They ran guns, drugs, women, honestly anything you can think of. I have always been on the guns side of things; just worked out that way. Brandon ended up working closely with some of the drug dealers and ended up working distribution more often than not. This meant he spent a lot of time on the road going back and forth to Miami to pick up supply. I should have seen it sooner, but he was gone four days every seven, so it was hard to keep up. On paper, we had rules against dipping into the product; Drugs, women, cars, anything. Very few of the Brothers followed that particular guideline all the time, staying just on the edge of discipline, but some took it a little too far,” I pause taking a breath.
I guess I’m going to do this, can’t stop now.
“Brandon started using, I don’t know exactly when, but by the time I noticed he was pretty far down the path. He always swore he was in control, that he had it handled; always told me not to worry. I shouldn’t have listened to him. But I convinced myself it was fine. I alw
ays saw him having a good time around the Club, wrote it off to him living it up, being young and dumb- just a phase. To be honest, I never saw him out of control, I never saw him doing anything outside of a party with friends or Brothers. I should have seen it though. I should have noticed the shakes, the random disappearances. But I should have noticed it when the marks weren’t just in his arms anymore. I should have checked on him more, especially when every one of his runs started showing up short a brick.”
My voice breaks and I feel myself collapse even further into myself, my shoulders slumping under the weight of all my shit. Tessa hasn’t moved a muscle the entire time, but she must notice the change in me because I feel her crawl over and wrap herself around my back. Her arms come around my waist, her cheek resting against my shoulder, and I feel her press a soft kiss there. Closing my eyes, I let her warmth sink into me for a moment. I set my hand on her forearm, acknowledging her presence and the comfort she is offering. I let my head drop completely as silent tears finally break through and run down my face. The memory hits me like a brick wall.
The asshole was late for church. You don’t fuckin’ do that. No one does that unless they are dead or dying. I had seen him partying with a couple girls at the compound last night and figured he was passed out and sleeping off the hangover. The last fuckin’ thing I wanted to do today was drag my ass out to the shitty end of town, to his shit hole apartment, and drag his sorry ass out of bed. Probably going to have to untangle him from a whore or two while I’m at it. Pulling up out front of his place I roll my eyes at the crumbling building. How many fuckin’ times did I have to tell him to move outta this shit hole before he’d finally listen?
Walking up the crumbling front steps, I noticed the lock on the front door was busted again. I don’t know why the landlord even bothered fixing it anymore, the gang bangers just break the damn thing every time. I walked into the lobby and was immediately hit with the stench of unwashed humans, piss, and rot.
Good job baby bro, so proud you live in a fuckin’ trash heap.
Walking past the elevator, I don’t even bother trying it, pretty sure that thing hadn’t been operational since before he was born.
I started tromping up the stairs, my heavy boots clomping loudly on the squeaky wooden treads. Five fuckin’ floors up. This asshole had better have four fuckin’ porn stars in his room to make this shit worth it. I jumped over the broken step halfway up the third flight. How many times have I biffed it completely on that stupid step, trying to drag his drunk ass home?
Man, when was the last time I made it out here? The compound would be so much better for him. I really should just drag his ass back there and get him cleaned up. I wonder if I can get the Club to front some mechanic schooling for him.
I arrived at his door, slightly winded from the stale and rancid air; I gave it a pound with my fist. The fucker never made me a key, ‘cuz why would he? Why bother making it so I could get in without busting down the damn door? He didn’t answer after the first round of knocking so I tried again, yelling his name this time.
“Shadow! Come on you lazy fuckhead; answer the door.” more pounding. More shouting. Nothing in response. I waited a bit and listened to see if I could hear anything inside the apartment. Silence. Goddammit, that fucker must be well and truly passed out. I pounded on the door again, kicking it with my boot for an extra deep knock. Still nothing.
Ah fuck it, I’m gonna take him away from here anyway.
I stepped back, bracing my hands on either side of the frame and kick just above the handle, the door folds like paper. I stormed into the room and pulled up short, finding the room completely empty and still; nothing like the usual aftermath present. All the furniture, all the shit on the walls, everything was gone except a stained mattress in the corner of the living room. The little island in the kitchen blocked the view into the living room so I could only see one corner of the thing on the floor beyond. The second thing to hit me was the stench. Unwashed dumpster fire was the best phrase I could put to it, I had to concentrate on keeping my stomach where it belonged as I involuntarily retch against the stench.
Taking another step into the apartment I looked around, confused at what’s happened. “Come on Bumble, get your ass up fucker,” I called out, walking around the island to look into the living room. A shadow on the mattress catches my eye…
One look.
All it took was one look and it all clicked into place.
“B… Get up man…”
“Eight hundred and thirty-seven days ago… Brandon… B. Overdosed.” I say in a flat tone, coming back to the present. I lift my head and stare out the window.
Tessa curls tighter around me. I vaguely register the wet feeling of her tears trailing down my shoulder. Her arms cling to me like she is trying to ground me and pull me back to myself.
“I couldn’t protect him; I didn’t protect him. I should have protected him,” I whisper, not to anyone in particular but I mumble it over and over again. My mantra. The one I have repeated for eight hundred and thirty-seven days. I should have been there. I should have protected him.
“I need you safe Tess,” I say, barely even a whisper this time, but I know she hears me. She uncurls from my back and slides around, going to her knees in front of me. She takes my hands in hers and presses them to her cheeks.
“I am safe Sawyer; I am safe when I am with you. Just like you will keep Evan and Lexi safe,” she says looking up at me, but I refuse to meet her gaze. I can’t let myself; I can’t handle seeing the look in her eyes now that she knows the truth.
“Tess, I killed my brother. I killed him by letting him do what he wanted. My baby brother, my Shadow, the one who made life so much bigger and better, died on my watch. It was my fault he got tangled up in any of that shit, I should have pushed him away from the world I was living in. I can never forgive myself for not standing my ground and keeping him safe. Never,” I say, staring out to the end of the world.
“I could never look my mother in the eyes again after I told her the news; I at least was able to do that though. I avoided my siblings, staying at a distance for fear of their condemnation, their rejection. I thought about trying to leave, but every time I got on the bike, I just couldn’t start it. I stuck around the compound for a while after B’s death, but I just couldn’t handle seeing anyone we used to know; go anywhere I had been with him. Everywhere I looked, I expected his laughing scrawny ass to wave at me and toss me a beer. I could see it in the Brother’s eyes too, they saw my weakness, they saw that I let down a Brother and wanted nothing to do with me. It became too much… So, I left.”
“I pulled the chicken-shit move, left my Cut in the Prez’s office in the middle of the night with a fucking Dear John letter, and ran. I got on my bike and just drove, running away from anything that was my life. And that was it. That was my exile. I haven’t talked to anyone in my family since I left, and I doubt I ever will again. They don’t want me there anymore, I’m not needed. The only thing worse than a broken man is a man who isn’t needed.”
“Sawyer,” I hear Tessa say my name, but she feels miles away. I feel her hands go to my face and she forcibly tilts my head down to meet hers.
“Need your eyes biker man,” she says firmly.
I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as I steel myself to face the rejection I know I will find in her eyes, the pain at my betrayal of my own brother. When I finally open them and meet her gaze, she has a fierce light glowing in their hazel depths. There is no rejection, no revulsion, and no fear. Only… love. Love and understanding and acceptance. I’m struck dumb by her look, prepared for anything but love and acceptance.
“Sawyer,” she repeats. “B’s death is not on you. He was a grown man and could make his own decisions, choose his own path, right or wrong. Don’t carry this, don’t carry it on your soul. It’s so damn heavy. I need you to look at me and believe me. You are not responsible for your brother’s death, you are not perfect, you never will be,
and I love you for that,” she says, putting a hand to my cheek and wiping a tear with her thumb.
I can’t look at her, can’t handle the infinite understanding in her eyes. I hang my head again, pulling free from her hold. How can she understand, how can she ever understand that the sight of my lifeless little brother on that shit-stained mattress that morning haunts me every, single, day? Why would she ever think I can be good for Evan, that beautiful happy boy. I had sworn to protect Brandon, had promised to look out for him and keep him safe. Instead, I had led him to his death.
“Stop it. Stop it right damn now Sawyer,” she says, pulling my face back to hers. “I can see where your head is going, and don’t you dare go there. You have made our world safe again, you have made it a home.” her tears starting to edge into her voice.
“You loved that poor man, anyone can see that, but that does not mean you failed him. He made his choices in life and you did your best to guide him; but every child outgrows their parent; you couldn’t keep him forever. You are amazing, and fierce, and loyal, and so much more than I thought Evan and I could ever have. You have to live with the pain of his death for the rest of your life, let me help you carry it a while…” her insistence and honesty driving into me, shattering the icy prison I had hidden my little Bumble behind.
“I love you Sawyer McGrath; I love all of you. I love all of your strong and broken pieces. Together, the three of us can make a new whole. We can piece together our lives into something greater, something so full of love that the pain fades under its light,” she says before leaning in and pressing her lips to mine. The kiss imparting all the love and calm that has been radiating off her. I feel it settle over me and start to wind its way around my heart, releasing some of the pain that I have wrapped around it like barbed wire.
As if she hasn’t stunned me enough, she reaches up and presses her hand to my chest… covering the bumblebee tattoo inked over my heart. “B will always be here with you, in your heart. He would be so damn proud of the man you have become; of the man you’re going to raise.”
