by J. C. Allen
I frowned. Of course that would be the reason. That’s the most Mom reason ever.
“I can’t. I have to work.”
It was kind of a lie, but frankly, at this point, I was just trying to keep them at bay from bugging me more and more.
“Well, just think about it. But we won’t keep begging you to come home, Gracinda. If you want to forget your family that’s fine, but we cannot keep our olive branch extended forever.”
Damnit, Mom. I swallowed hard as the tears pricked my eyes. I tried my hardest but they seemed to fall anyway. Mom really knew how to dig at me. And yet, you’re the one pushing her away. It takes two, you know.
“I have to go, Mom.”
I hung up quickly. I wiped at my tears but they only fell faster, no matter how hard I tried. I got up and try to make it to the solitude of my room before the tears clouded my vision.
And then, of course, Matthew showed up, the one time I didn’t want to see him.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
His face contorted with concern. He gripped my upper arms and held me close to him. The heat and solidity of his body felt so good… but it just made me cry more, realizing how grateful I was to have him. I buried my head in his chest and let him hold me as I cried.
“My mom called.”
It took quite a bit of time to get the words out. I pulled back and wiped my eyes. My hands fell on his warm, bare chest as I looked up into his eyes.
“Is… is that a bad thing?”
“Yes. It is.”
Matthew moved us to the couch, the better so that I could have a full conversation with him and not something rushed.
“My parents are very wealthy and controlling. It’s why I left so soon after high school. They paid for college but then started to try and control me. With their money and their plans, they tried to force me to marry someone I didn’t want to and become a society debutante for the rest of my life. So I left and they said if I didn’t let them control me, they would basically… forget I exist.”
I took a deep breath, realizing how good it felt to get all of that out in one sentence. Matthew cradled my cheek and wiped my stray tears.
“I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I know this isn’t exactly a good look.”
I laughed nervously and avoided his intense gaze. Sometimes, I hated how he looks at me that way, like he could see inside of me.
But in times when I wasn’t a hot mess—which, admittedly, wasn’t as often as I wanted—it felt like he was really trying to stare at my soul, to understand me, to truly know me.
“No, don’t apologize. It’s okay. I’m sorry that you had to go through that, but you aren’t alone. You have friends here, family.”
It really feels like it is true.
“Thanks.”
He hugged me close, and though I knew it wouldn’t all go away that easily, it did feel a lot better.
13
Matthew
The first rule of club business is that it stays in the club.
That rule, given to me by my father even before he passed away, even before I started getting more involved in the club, was something that struck me while I was downstairs, trying to have a conversation with Zeke and Jaxson. The issue of the murdered prospect had not ended just because the Cavaros had taken no further action—if anything, the silence was disturbing, as if they were planning something much worse than had already happened.
When Grace came down, there was a strong temptation to tell her what was going on. Granted, Zeke and Jaxson probably would have jumped me and kicked my ass on the spot—and I would’ve done the same to them in the reverse—but things were going so well with us, I wondered if it would really be the worst thing in the world. After all, Grace were building toward…
What, exactly?
I realized then I had never taken the time to really define what we were. It might have done us some good to have that conversation and talk about what we were building toward, but honestly, I didn’t want to. It wasn’t because it was some ploy to have sex and then dump her—I really liked her, and I had no intentions of dumping her.
Rather, things were just going so good that I didn’t think it would make sense for us to have that talk. Such a talk could make things awkward, have things stall out, and that would be the end of us. I didn’t want us to stop; I wanted us to keep building, keep going toward the good times.
In any case, though, regardless of what we were or what we could be, the decision remained the same. I couldn’t tell her anything that was going on in club business, no matter what.
It didn’t hurt too much that at the moment, the topic at hand was the murdered prospect. We considered lashing out at them, but the Cavaros had covered their trail well; they were a difficult MC to find, probably because the loss of their leadership had made them something of a nebulous entity. It was like the difference between fighting a country and fighting a terrorist organization; you knew where to find on a map a country, but finding exactly where a terrorist group was required a little bit more research and insight.
We ended by deciding to be on high alert but not take any action for the time being. We figured we could maybe assign one of the officers the task of looking into the rival club, but only if it didn’t take away from other activities. Though gruesome, the loss of a prospect wasn’t particularly damaging to the club’s overall health; it was something we could withstand and keep going, cold as that was.
Besides, the thought of telling Grace vanished shortly after when she told me she had called her mother. Such a talk had given me an appreciation for having such a good relationship with my own parents. Though my father’s death had given us the financial wherewithal to take care of ourselves, knowing that we could turn to our mother for help of any kind, financial, emotional, or otherwise, was enormously comforting.
From what Grace told me about her mother, though, it didn’t sound like it was much of a good idea to have her reach out to her—she was too stubborn and stuck-up to provide anything other than headaches and pain. Maybe her father was different, but she didn’t mention her father and she hadn’t done so in other contexts to a great degree otherwise.
I eventually led her upstairs, and for perhaps the first night since she had started sleeping together, she fell asleep in my bed but didn’t actually have sex with me. Admittedly, it would have felt a little bit like emotional manipulation if I had slept with her. I knew she was in some kind of mood thanks to her mother, and though maybe having sex with her after wouldn’t have been “taking advantage,” it still didn’t feel right.
It was a moot point, anyways, because I was so tired that I fell asleep shortly after.
When I woke up, Grace was not in my bed.
She had already gotten up. I could hear her in the kitchen, though, making do with whatever cereal and items in the fridge I had. Though I was horny as all hell for her and desperately wanted her naked body on me, I decided that it might do some good to just relax in the privacy of my room. The sex would come—maybe I could take something from the time alone.
As it turned out, that “something” was a text from Simon, asking me to call him. It was kind of early for him to be up—but then again, he’d always gotten up a little earlier than the rest of us, since he had a real job and we didn’t. I dialed his number, putting him on speaker so I could put the phone by my side as I spoke.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” he said.
“Uhhhh,” I groaned, as if I were a zombie.
“Oh, come on, I know you boys like to sleep, but it’s only ten!”
I ignored that comment. He knew full well we liked to sleep until noon on most days; the life of a MC officer was a busy one when the sun set.
“Whatcha want?” I said.
Simon chuckled on the other end of the line.
“You’re the same way when you wake up as you are when you’re deadass tired—you just want to get right to the point. Fair enough. Just wanted to check in and see how things are
with the club. Have tried to keep my distance with this honeymoon, but Rosella’s off getting some pastries, and since I come back tomorrow, I wanted to see if there was anything I needed to be aware of.”
“Tomorrow?” I groused. “Fuck man, honeymoon over just like that, huh?”
“I know, it goes by too quickly.”
I had said my line, though, mostly because I wasn’t exactly in the mood to confess that there was someone who had murdered a prospect of ours. I wasn’t exactly thinking it was a good idea to admit we had no idea where he was. I wasn’t exactly believing it was an especially good idea, either, to mention that our suspect was likely a Cavaro, or one of his wife’s relatives. And by extension, I guess his relatives-in-law? Either way.
“Well?” he said.
“Nothing to it right now, no,” I said. I didn’t care it was lying—Simon needed to enjoy his goddamn honeymoon. “Just the usual. Jaxson being surly and sour. Zeke being an idiot who can’t stop making jokes. Me just being… me. The usual.”
“Oh, how exciting,” Simon said. “I kept wondering if something would happen after Uncle Nic got killed. Sounds like you guys have it under control.”
Jesus, if only you knew how right you were, Simon.
“Nothing to really keep under control right now, honestly.”
He’s going to kick my ass so hard when he gets home. And I’ll deserve every second of that beating.
But he’s got to deserve every second of his honeymoon, no matter how much I’m lying to him right now.
“Good. How about in your personal life?”
“What about in my personal life?” I said with a chuckle.
“Matthew,” Simon said, with such a tone that I could practically see the eye roll in Chicago from Minnesota. “You know what I mean. Remember, my wife is your girl’s best friend. And even if that wasn’t the case, Michael doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”
God, tell me about it.
“Things are… they’re good,” I said. This, I knew I could be a little bit more open about. “She moved in with me, but just for a spell while she gets back on her feet. The sex is really good, frankly. Having a lot of it. So getting laid always feels nice.”
“I’m on a honeymoon, you don’t need to tell me that.”
I gave a short laugh as I took him off of speaker phone; I didn’t imagine that Grace hearing about me and my brother discussing our sex life was something that she was particularly interested in.
“But what about you two as a couple?”
“As what?” I said, more in surprise that he had put it out so bluntly and strongly as he had.
It was becoming pretty obvious that while I could dodge that line of conversation with myself and maybe even Grace, my brothers were never going to let me off the hook. God bless them, they were great men, and our brutal honesty with each other was beneficial in the long run… but man, when we wanted some privacy with each other, that was practically impossible to get. I would have had better luck getting privacy in a totally bugged and camera-laden room than I was with my brothers.
“I didn’t stutter, did I? As a couple. You two are living together, man! That’s not just fucking. That’s… serious.”
“Well, let’s not get crazy, it’s not like she has my baby or anything like that,” I said with a laugh. “If that happened, maybe we could talk, but that’s not the case.”
And, ideally, it won’t be the case. Admittedly, we were starting to get to the point where Grace could take the pill more frequently so we could go in raw, but we were still pretty cautious. I think once, I might have slipped up somewhere along the way, but one fuckup didn’t seem like would be the thing that gave me something a few years earlier than I was ready for.
“You laugh, but it might be healthy for you to figure it out.”
“OK, therapist,” I jabbed.
But I knew he was right. That was the problem with having brothers who were married and with children—they grew up much faster than I did. Even though we were all somewhat close in age, it was pretty obvious that Jaxson and Simon had grown up much faster than Zeke or I. Though, to be fair, I didn’t think Zeke was ever going to grow up.
They could see that having that conversation would prevent a lot of future awkwardness and maybe make things better and easier for us. If I confirmed with Grace that we were just casual, it would avoid hurt conversations later. If I realized she wanted us to be serious, then…
Well, that was the thing, wasn’t it? In my head, the word “casual” sprung to mind, but that was force of habit, not because that’s what I actually wanted with Grace. What I wanted with Grace, I was just kind of afraid to admit. I wasn’t ready to blurt out that I was ready for anything serious with her; it wasn’t that I wouldn’t be, but it was hard to just let go of that feeling of being the man who could get whatever he wanted.
“Just think about it, little brother,” Simon said teasingly. “In any case, we’ll be home tomorrow. Michael has been behaving for you, right? Grace isn’t lying to Rosella or anything like that?”
“Of course not,” I said. “I’ve already given him five types of beer and some whiskey. He’s taking after his good uncle.”
“Oh, is that so? Did you also teach him martial arts so that he could kick your ass with me while I do it?”
We shared a good laugh at that. I was just happy to end the tough conversation at that.
“Alright man, I’ll be home tomorrow. Keep Michael in line until then.”
“You know I will,” I said.
But could I keep myself in line? Could I have enough of the honest self-discipline to have that conversation with Grace before things got too serious?
Only time would tell. I just hoped that it told in a favorable direction.
14
Grace
“Is Mommy gonna be home soon?!?”
Michael stood by my side as we stood outside Rosella’s and Simon’s home. I knew that she had said that she would be about thirty minutes away, well, thirty minutes ago, but at this point, I just assumed that she had hit traffic. Rosella was notorious for not giving the most accurate information when it came to being on time, anyways; I didn’t think it was indicative of anything other than the fact that the poor girl just couldn’t stay on top of her own schedule.
“I’m sure she will be soon, bub,” I said to Michael, mussing his hair.
“But I want to see her now!” Michael shouted. “I want to tell her about Aunt Grace and Matthew’s adult hanging out!”
I had to hug him so he couldn’t see my face, because I was on the verge of laughing way too hard at what he had said. I swore, that kid knew how to say just the thing that was just inappropriate enough to make you gasp while being funny enough that you couldn’t help but shake your head. I had no idea if he knew it produced that kind of reaction, but I did know that he would pick up on it soon enough, if he hadn’t already.
In that sense, he was already a Kinsmen—knowing how to stir up the right amount of trouble without actually getting into full trouble. I didn’t say that out loud, obviously, because the later he became self-aware about this, the better for everyone I thought.
“Aunt Grace and Matthew are just good friends,” I said.
You know it’s more than that.
But that’s a conversation for another day.
“But! But—”
He got interrupted, though, by a beautiful sight.
Headlights coming down his driveway.
Michael took off in a full sprint for his mother, practically trying to tackle the car. I almost freaked out when he did so, thinking he and Simon weren’t aware of the speed of the other, but I had just been overthinking it. Michael easily moved to the side of the car, banging on his mother’s door. I could see her smiling already. She got out, lifted him in her arms, and squeezed her little boy tightly.
“How are you!” Rosella said.
Simon also came over, his undivided attention on his son, whom he kissed on th
e forehead. For a moment, I was alone, not given any attention by either Simon or Rosella—which I didn’t mind in the slightest. It gave me the chance to observe the two of them doting on their son, and it was so sweet and so adorable.
Maybe someday, I imagined, I could have something like that. And who knew? Maybe Matthew would be the one to be on the other side, kissing our child. Such a thought was projecting awfully far ahead, especially for how little we knew of each other. I had to remind myself not to get too caught up in the moment—a healthy amount of detachment was ideal for the sake of our relationship.
But it was also kind of nice to dream and fantasize. Matthew had done such a good job with Michael that I could easily see him making a great father somewhere. He didn’t lose his temper with me, he didn’t act crazy…
I was getting more and more wrapped up in the thought when Rosella, thankfully, broke me out of it as she came over. It was just as well, because if I had let the thought go on too much longer, I probably would have just ran home and fucked Matthew wherever he was, whether that was in his bedroom or on his bike.
“Grace,” Rosella said with a beaming smile as she came over and kissed me. “You are so wonderful for helping as you did.”
“Ah, don’t thank me,” I said, trying to deflect attention away from me. “Give it to Matthew and his mother. They’re the ones that watched him for the most part.”
“I don’t know,” she said, nodding to her boy trailing behind her. “The way he talks about you, I think you might be his favorite.”
I tried not to let that go to my head.
“Come on, let’s head inside.”
I briefly gave Simon a welcome home hug before I followed Rosella inside. She made a comment to Simon about letting us talk, and just a few moments later, Simon had retreated to the living room with a beer and the TV on.
“So… what’s going on?”
