“It’s what it is, Truck, like so many things. What ifs, and if I’d done that instead. No point dwelling on things we can’t change now. You and I have both done things we regret. We can either let guilt drag us down, or move on and take what life offers us. We’ve got a beautiful baby girl.”
“Who knows her dad,” I can’t resist saying.
“Hmm,” Allie replies. “Typical.” Then, her smile fades and she becomes serious. “She’s not said a recognisable word before. That was a first, and you were here to hear it. You’ll be here to see her take her first step and all the other firsts in her life.”
“I didn’t see her take her first breath.”
“Neither did I,” Allie reminds me.
“Tell me about it.”
“One day, not now. We’ve got time, Truck. Don’t have to get everything sorted right away.”
She’s probably right. Eventually I might let her in on what being locked up did to me, as she’ll tell me what happened to her. Each of us will hurt for the other, and how did she put it? Shouldn’t let the past drag us down when we’ve got a future to live.
I glance at myself again, still wearing the cut Drummer brought to the prison. Suddenly it feels right to wear it.
“You think the brothers will still be in the clubhouse?”
Her eyes widen. “Beer? Bikers? Just because the guest of honour didn’t put in an appearance, you reckon they’ll have ended the party?”
My mouth quirks again. Put like that, no.
I run my hand over the now smooth dome of my head. Just that one small thing has given me back a glimpse of the man I was before I went away. On the exterior anyway, I doubt inside I’ll ever be the same again.
Prison’s taken so much from me. Why should it take more?
“Allie. Will you come down to the clubhouse with me? Stay by my side?” Something tells me, if she’s there, she’ll be like a tether to where I want to get to. A man with a family.
She seems to understand. “You can lean on me Truck, however much you need to. I’ll be there.”
“Can we bring Hope?”
“Yes, she’ll be stirring soon anyway. She never naps for long during the day.”
“How’s she sleeping at night?” Christ, there are so many things I don’t know.
“She’ll go down around ten and wake around five. She’s good.”
Hmm. That’s good? Guess I better get used to early morning wake up calls.
As if on cue, I hear a baby’s cry of complaint. Allie grins. I follow her as she crosses the hallway to our sitting room, shaking my head. Trust Drum to set Allie up in something that resembles a small apartment. He’d thought it through, obviously, that Allie needed a kitchen to heat bottles and wash up, even if there isn’t space to cook a full roast or other big meal.
I stand, watching as Allie expertly changes Hope, noticing how my daughter finds the whole thing a joke and tries to wriggle away. I absorb the techniques my wife is using, determined to be a hands-on dad, not an asshole who leaves it all to his wife. I admire the way she’s coping. From the little she’s said, as the doctor had warned me, adjusting to having a baby was hard. At least she hasn’t turned out like that bitch of her mother. Not that I’d had any real fear that she would.
When she’s got Hope’s fresh diaper on dressed her, I hold out my arms, and Allie puts Hope into them. First thing I learn is that kids don’t hang on, they rely on the adult not to drop them. Hope has no fear as she squirms, leaning back and laughing.
Allie’s face shows the concern of a mother. I suspect it’s hard to relinquish control having come this far on her own. Making a note not to seem as though I’m taking over, or offering unwanted suggestions about things I know nothing about, I nod my head toward the door, then, taking a deep breath, follow her out.
Hope acts like my armour, giving me strength to walk into the busy and loud room. Noise, when I’ve mostly heard silence for the past months. Not that it was ever quiet in solitary, but I’d learned to tune out the cries from my fellow inmates.
“Truck! Here brother. There’s a beer with your name on it somewhere.”
There is. And Roadkill, clearly wanting to earn his patch, is offering it to me before I can look for it. I jerk my chin toward the table, unable to take it while my daughter is filling my arms.
“I got a new dirt bike.” Instead of asking how I am, what it was like in there, how it feels to be out—the questions I’d been expecting to have to deflect, Road starts on his favourite subject.
“You still racing?”
“You bet. Not as often as I used to, but hey, I’m going after that title this year.”
Road rides trial bikes. He practices up on the track that was built for him at the top of the compound. I ask him about it, he’s soon giving me details. I make an odd comment here and there, but am more tied up with hanging onto Hope who seems to want to get down and play.
Allie notices, takes her from me, and plonks her down with Zane and Zoey who are playing on the floor under the watchful eye of Sophie. While Road mentions something about the power of his new engine, I watch my daughter, realising how much the club has to offer. Allie has returned to my side, able to relax knowing there will always be someone with their eyes on the babies.
“Good to see you, Brother.”
I swing around to see Joker and Lady, acknowledging their comment. Maya, their daughter runs off as soon as they let go of her hand. I’m amused to see she’s making a beeline for Eli who’s playing with Olivia. All three kids appear to be about the same age.
With another beer soon inside me, I find myself beginning to relax.
“See you need some time in the gym,” Peg greets me.
Yeah, I’d tried to keep myself fit inside, but over the past couple of months, I’d given up physically as well as mentally. I groan in anticipation, and Peg, the bastard, just laughs.
“VP,” I raise my chin at Wraith, noticing while he was walking toward me, it wasn’t without a sideways glance to check on his wife and kids.
Wraith doesn’t speak, his hand just lands on the back of my cut, then after a piercing look into my eyes, he walks away. Words weren’t necessary for me to know I have his support, however I want it, in whatever way.
The room suddenly goes quiet as the music is switched off. Drummer neatly jumps up onto the bar.
“Brothers,” he calls out, “I’ll make this short. You all know why we’ve gotten together today. There’s a fuckin’ banner above my head and I know Truck can read, so I don’t need to say the words.
“Those who have been inside know what it feels like. Others can imagine I’m sure. Gonna take Truck a minute to adjust to living free once more. For myself, I’m pleased as fuck Truck’s back where he belongs, with us, his club, his ol’ lady and kid.”
His heartfelt words make me pull Allie into my side, my arm snaking around her with some sort of muscle memory, the familiar gesture, the willingness with which she trustingly leans into me, makes something loosen inside.
When Drummer raises his glass of what undoubtedly will be very expensive whisky, and the cries start around me, I loosen my hold on Allie so I too can thump my hand over my heart and join in as the cries comes out of every man’s mouths.
“Satan’s Devils ride together. Ride Satan’s Devils.”
My lips twitch when I realise no one’s voice is louder or more enthusiastic than Tommy’s.
May still have some way to go to fully accept it, but I am a Satan’s Devil. Worked hard to earn it, not going to throw it away.
The club door shuts with a bang as someone goes out, and I flinch. Yeah, still got aways to go.
Twenty years in the future – Drummer
“Well look who it is.”
I glance up with the corners of my mouth turning up. I’ve always had a lot of time for the nineteen-year-old who’s approaching, who, like her mother, is a pretty girl. I might not have sired a daughter myself, but in some ways, Hope’s been a surrogate. �
�Hey, Hope. How’s it going?”
“Great, Uncle Drum, Uncle Peg.”
I’ve told her many times now she’s older, she can drop the title and just call me by my name, but Hope’s called me uncle so long, I think it’s stuck.
“What you up to?”
She shrugs, “Nothing much. Just wanted to see if Dad’s around.”
“I think he’s in the clubhouse. You need anything?”
She looks down, and frowns, “Unfortunately, yeah, what any student wants. I need textbooks, Uncle Drum.”
Hope’s studying to be a nurse at the community college.
“If he’d let me work…”
“Your Dad doesn’t want you working off the compound, Hope. We’ll see you’re set for anything you need, you know that.”
“I don’t like asking,” she explains quietly, in a way reminiscent of her mother. “But I am really grateful Uncle Drum.” She moves around Peg, approaches me and, leaning over, gives me a hug. My arms automatically go around her, thinking of the many times over the years I’ve held her like this.
“She’s a good girl,” I tell Peg, when she’s disappeared into the clubhouse.
“Turned out well,” he agrees. “But Truck’s never going to let her do one of the seedy jobs students have to take.”
I give a sigh. “Fuckin’ glad I only had sons. And don’t look like that, Peg. You’re no better with Lisa.”
“Daughters, huh?” He laughs. “At least I’ve only got one. No wonder Wraith’s losing his hair.”
“Heart’s got three,” I remind him.
“Remember his twins being born during the wildfire that nearly took out the compound?”
“That was a fight and a half, Peg.” My eyes automatically scan the mountains in the distance, something that I do every day during the dry months. I’ve noticed I’m not the only one, none of us want to see flames heading toward us ever again.
“Things come in threes, Drummer. I’m always wondering when the third will strike.”
I shrug. “Fire destroyed the original vacation resort that was here, Peg. We moved in, what, getting on forty years back? Only had that one fire threaten us since, and we beat it then.”
“Darcy and her firefighting team did, you mean,” he corrects me.
“How’s Darcy doing now?”
“She’s still lovin’ her job. Done fuckin’ well, Drummer. But I’m hoping she’ll retire soon.”
My mouth quirks. Ever since he married her way back in the day, her job’s been a bone of contention between them. She has done well, is a captain herself now, only taking a little time off when she had their two children. My money is on her dying in harness, so to speak. She’s giving no signs of slowing down.
But I don’t speak my mind out loud. “I think the compound’s safe now, Peg. We keep the firebreak well maintained and an eye out.”
“Can’t get complacent. Fires burn every summer. We’re just lucky it hasn’t decided to come for us again. But one day it will.”
“Hopefully not in our lifetime.”
“Fuckin’ with you there, Prez.”
Again I stare up, craning my neck so I can see the three mountain ranges that encircle us, but there’s no smoke or flames. I shudder slightly, once was more than a-fuckin-nough.
“Not long after the fire, the Chaos Riders came into town,” Peg reminds me. “You set Rock up.”
“I did. And I had my reasons.” My president’s glare hasn’t lessened with time.
It has no effect on him, he just shakes his head. “Wasn’t a good time. We hated Rock then. Would have killed him on sight.”
I ignore him. I did what had to be done, and Rock had volunteered when I’d asked him. “Remember the state Becca had been in?”
He’s quiet as he thinks back. “Chained in a filthy basement. If Rock hadn’t found her, she would have died.”
“She’s grown, hasn’t she, Peg?” I chuckle softly. “She’s not afraid of making decisions now.”
“Okay,” he remarks, suddenly. “I’ll give you that. What you did saved the club and Becca. Back then, I’d never have expected Rock to settle down.”
“That was when Beef ‘died’,” I put the word in air quotes. It hadn’t been a bullet that had almost taken him, but the fuckin’ infection that came from the wound. We’d all but read him the last rites, all said our final goodbyes to him, when the fucker had woken up.
“Satan hadn’t wanted him.”
“Clearly not.” I bark a short laugh. “Then, of course, he went to Colorado.”
“And another fucker went down.” Peg glances at me. “Woman-wise, I’m talking.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Allie…
It’s been a difficult couple of weeks. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around Truck, trying to keep noise down as I notice loud sounds make him jump. I’m wary of pushing Hope on him, but also don’t want him to think I’m monopolising her.
He’s learned to change her. He’s been here when we put her in the highchair and gave her her first solid food. She seems to enjoy mashed-up bananas. His face lights up every time she calls him Dada, which seems to be quite a lot. But then she does get rewarded for it.
“Did you enjoy your ride?” I look around as Truck walks in the door.
“Fuckin’ ace. Just what I needed.” The smile on his face seems genuine and wide. “Had a chance to talk to Peg when we stopped for a break.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He goes over to the cot, sees Hope is sleeping and stares down at her for a moment. “She’s fuckin’ beautiful, Al. I can’t believe we made that.”
I know what he means. It still irks me that I missed the birth just like he had. Of course, I’d been there physically, but I hadn’t been conscious to see her born. Sometimes I wonder if she really is mine. She seems so perfect. But if someone had passed me a different baby instead, I never would have known. Sometimes I wake up sweating and wondering whether she’s a changeling, then realise how stupid I’m being. She showed every sign of being a premature underweight baby. No doubt about it, she’s mine.
Truck’s looking at me strangely.
“What?” I ask, hoping he can’t read my mind. He’d think I was crazy.
“Come next door. I want to talk without disturbing her.”
His words sound ominous. Has he decided I’m not what he wants now? Although we’d both agreed to take it slow, I’m concerned he hasn’t made a move toward me since he returned home.
In the bedroom he settles himself on the bed, with the pillows propped behind him. The wave of his hand shows he expects me to join him. I settle myself down, careful to leave a gap between us.
When he doesn’t start speaking immediately, I sneak a sideways glance at him, seeing him swallow a couple of times.
“I don’t know how long what happened is going to affect me, Al. I haven’t opened up to you, but I think I need to do so now. I’ll be living with the effects forever, and it will help if you understand.”
“Truck—”
“No, I’m not asking for sympathy. I’ve got to move on, accept the experience is a part of me. What I don’t want is you forever tiptoeing around, frightened to say the wrong thing. That’s not a relationship, babe. That’s two people ignoring, rather than facing up to and trying to find ways to cope with things they can’t change.”
I have to ask. Don’t want to draw this out if he’s going to take a long time to get around to it. “Do you want to leave me?”
He sits up fast, turning to face me. His hand coming up to cradle my cheek. “Fuck, no, woman. The thought of you and Hope were the only things keeping me from going insane. Those months inside, you were my lifeline. Fuckin’ killed me I couldn’t be with you, couldn’t see you or hear your voice, but the thought of you being here waiting? Couldn’t have survived without that.”
“The thought of you coming home, Truck. That’s what I was holding onto.”
“Tell me, Al. Tell me what you went throug
h.”
I shake my head. “It’s water under the bridge now.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” he replies enigmatically. His thumb strokes my face gently. “You’re my ol’ lady, Al, and I’m your ol’ man.”
“Am I? Are you?” Suddenly my fears come tumbling out. “We were together such a short time before I fell pregnant. Then apart for a year. We haven’t got a normal to return to, as we never had that to start with.”
“Then,” he begins with his gaze blazing, “let’s build our new normal now. Our recent past has shaped us. Doesn’t mean we’re any worse than we were. Could be we’re better for it.” His stare intensifies. “Allie, I want to kiss you, now.”
I’m not ready.
Will I ever be?
How can I love this man but still feel a physical detachment?
I open my mouth to tell him, but he takes advantage instead. His lips gently close on mine, and I automatically respond.
He’s not demanding, there’s no pressure to do more than simply move our mouths against one another. This close, his natural perfume seems to do something to me, and I find it’s me taking the lead, with my tongue parting his lips and pushing inside.
He moves, keeping our faces melded together, leaning over me with one hand resting on the bed to my side.
Suddenly our kiss becomes more, it becomes full of emotion, an expression of our love for each other. In a rush, everything I’ve missed comes tearing back into my mind. My fears about intimacy taking a back seat when my body automatically begins to respond to my man.
Without my brain issuing a conscious instruction, my hands clutch at his tee, and I moan into his mouth.
“Tell me you want this, Al,” he demands, as he pushes his pelvis toward mine. Any questions about whether I can still arouse him are answered when I feel his hard cock against my thigh.
“I…” My mind is still holding back, but my body presses against him.
“We’ll go as fuckin’ slow as you want, Al. You need me to stop? You just tell me. You don’t have to offer anything you don’t want.” Another intense gaze wills me to believe and trust him. There’s no doubt in my head about that. Being in prison might have changed Truck, but he’s still the same honourable man inside.
Truck Stopped: Satan's Devils MC #11 Page 36
