Chapter 32 Ollie
Ollie
Buy Dirt by Jordan Davis, Luke Bryan
The day starts like any other shift, which means it doesn’t start calm at all. Lately, we’ve had a lot of calls. Mostly tourists driving through that don’t know how to drive in snowy weather, and they underestimate Wyoming winds.
“You’re smiling again,” Bucky says. “That baby’s got you soft.”
I don’t bother denying it. I just grin like an idiot and nod. “She’s perfect, man.”
Bucky nods. “Yeah, she is.”
Ellie’s picture is still open on my phone from earlier.
Poppy sent it while I was resetting all the equipment.
Ellie’s swaddled in Poppy’s arms, blinking at the camera, and Owen’s arm is slung protectively around her like it’s his job.
Because it is, since he’s her big brother.
Even the dog was next to them for the picture.
Everything I care about fits on one screen now.
“I’m not going to lie, it’s been exhausting, but in the best possible way,” I say.
Bucky snorts. “You were made for this role, Ollie. I don’t know anyone more of a family man than you.”
Those words mean more than anything anyone has ever told me.
Because I didn’t think I could have this or want this.
I thought family was something that other people had.
Or something you make with people you choose or who choose you.
And here I am, making my own most unconventionally, yet making it right beside the woman I love.
Before I can respond, the bay doors start rattling. Not the usual sound either, like a truck rolling by too fast. This is heavier and deeper. Noises that aren’t supposed to be here.
The room stills and every head turns toward the doors.
I feel it in my chest before I see them. Bikes. Several of them, big and loud. Parked right out front in the parking spaces like they’re daring someone to come outside and say something. The kind of presence that doesn’t belong at a firehouse.
“What the hell?” someone mutters.
My jaw locks because I already know why they’re here. “I’ll handle it,” I say as I shrug on my hat and coat, pulling on my gloves.
Bucky steps closer. “Ollie.”
“I’ve got it,” I repeat and walk out before anyone can stop me.
Cold air hits my face. One of the men steps forward, older than the rest, gray in his beard and eyes sharp but not cruel.
“Ollie Kendrick,” he says with a wave. “We’re looking for you.”
“You shouldn’t be here. This is my work,” I say and nod down the street to the shop. “And that’s my home.”
The older guy lifts his hands slightly. “Name’s Jonesy. Grave sent me to talk. I think you might have us misunderstood.”
I laugh without humor. “That’s not possible.”
He studies me for a second, then nods. “Fair enough.”
The other bikers hang back. Jonesy keeps his voice calm. “I want you to know something up front. We have no problem with you or your wife.”
My stomach twists when he mentions Poppy.
“We don’t like your dad,” he continues. “Don’t like hers either. Men like that cause damage wherever they go. But you and her. You’re good people. No one messes with your family.”
I take a step closer. “Why are you doing this?”
Jonesy doesn’t blink. “The minute your woman came on club property asking for protection, she got it. For whatever reason, Grave likes you folks, and he wants to make sure nothing happens to you. The club used to be something good. I was around when it first began and my dad was in the original club. Sully got involved, and it went to shit not long after. Grave has been cleaning it up. He also grew up with a dad who tore that club apart. So, you can see we appreciate when kids of these bastards don’t have to shoulder their parents’ consequences. Those consequences aren’t ours.”
My teeth clench. “What do you want in return? I know there has to be something.”
He nods once. “That’s a fair question. You need to understand that we’re not your enemy.”
“Everyone has a price,” I say, giving him a shrug like I didn’t just get emotionally blackmailed by a biker with a mustache.
“The price is being a decent human and accepting the friendship,” Jonesy says, shrugging right back.
“Also, just so you know, no one has ever been able to crack Bandit. We figured that dog was broken until your woman showed up. Then he kept trying to run away back to town, and we figured out he was looking for her. When the bike came back smelling like her, he went nuts.”
I snort before I can stop myself.
“Turns out,” he continues, “he just wanted to live with you guys.”
“I thought he was supposed to be a mean guard dog,” I say.
Jonesy grins. “Oh, he can be mean as hell. Just not to you guys. But if anyone tries to come near your family, Bandit’s gonna give them hell.”
I shake my head. “Great. So, the toughest guy in your club is a dog who emotionally ghosted everyone until he found Poppy.”
I do like the dog.
“How do I know you won’t come back asking for something?” I shake my head, still not sure I believe them. I watched my dad hang around people like this and they always came around and threatened him or stole from us.
“You don’t owe us anything,” Jonesy says. “Poppy doesn’t either.”
I scoff. “Then why are you involved? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Because Sully owes her,” he says. “And we’re making damn sure he pays her back.”
I don’t disagree, because he does owe her. But we also don’t want any of his bullshit, so we’d rather have nothing to do with him. It’s not worth it.
I stare at him. “You shake him down?”
“We collect what he stole and return it,” Jonesy says. “That money goes to her. Clean, no strings attached.”
“And then what?” I ask.
Jonesy tilts his head. “We’ll take her skills if she has availability. She’s a damn good mechanic, and we need to take our vehicles and bikes to someone we can trust.”
That surprises me more than anything else. He’s right, she is the best mechanic. I’m so damn proud of her.
I study his face. “No contact with the kids. No intimidation ever. If you ever threaten my family, I’ll remind you that I’m still a Kendrick and whatever my father did will look like fuckin’ child’s play compared to what I’d do to protect my family.”
“Agreed,” he says immediately with a grin. “Damn, Ollie. I didn’t know you had that in ya.”
I just stare at him and he stares back for a beat.
“Okay,” I say finally. “When you see Sully, can you get him to go to Weston Jessop to sign away his rights so that Poppy and I can adopt Owen?”
Jonesy watches me for a beat and nods. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I sigh with relief. “Thanks.”
Jonesy exhales. “There’s one more thing we need to talk about with you.”
My shoulders tense.
“You’re not going to like it,” he adds.
“Try me.” Because I don’t really like any of this.
“We did some digging,” he says carefully. “It’s about the CPS report that started all this.”
My jaw locks, bracing for what he’s about to say. I have a feeling it’s just going to piss me off.
“Like I said, you all are under club protection. Someone messes with you, we’re going to be on it.”
“Who was it?” I ask, bracing myself for Jeremy Toddy or some customer with a beef against Poppy.
“It was your mom,” he finally says.
I stare at him, waiting for the punchline that doesn’t come. “You’re serious?”
Because there’s no way. She’s a shit mom. But I didn’t think she would hurt Poppy and Owen. Two innocent people doing the best they can. She’s a nurse. She’s supposed to help people. What the actual hell? This is unbelievable.
Jonesy nods his head. “We know for a fact.”
The engines start up again. Jonesy says, “Sorry man. We’ll be in touch on Sully.” The bikes roll out. The firehouse doors loom behind me like a sanctuary I didn’t realize I needed. Betrayal feels pretty heavy right now.
When I walk back inside, every single guy is staring at me from the doorway with arms crossed. They saw and heard the whole thing. Great.
“What the hell was that?” someone asks. "Do we need to go and handle something?”
I don’t answer. I barely hear them. Because now, I’m freaking livid. There’s like a roar of heat in my ears.
All I hear is my mother’s voice about Poppy. Judgmental, always watching, and disappointed. She acts like she’s tried to warn me about Poppy and her family. About her being unstable. As if our family was any better than Poppy’s. My family is shit just like Poppy’s. Even worse now.
I always thought my mom was just being cruel. Something I came to expect from her. Turns out she was also dangerous. Because she’s willing to hurt her own family. If she can hurt them, then she can hurt me. She has no moral compass whatsoever.
Unfortunately, I have a shift to finish, so I need to focus on that. I don’t have the luxury of going and finding my mom and ripping her apart.
We stay busy with calls, even end up at the hospital on a transport, and, luckily, I don’t see her. I need to call my sister and tell Cami what happened. If our mom can do this to Poppy and me, there’s no telling what she would do to Jack and Cami. She’s vile.
The drive home is quiet. I rehearse the words a hundred times, and none of them feel right. How do I tell Poppy this without coming unglued? I’m still livid and it’s been hours.
Poppy’s at the counter when I walk in, Owen on the couch playing a game, Ellie sleeping in her bassinet. The sight of them makes me not want to tell them at all. It feels peaceful here and I’m sick of my mother stealing my peace from me.
She takes one look at my face and sets her mug down.
“What happened?” she asks as she cups my jaw, looking me over. “Are you hurt?”
I don’t sit or take off my jacket. “Let’s talk for a minute,” I say as I guide her down the hall to our room.
“The bikers came to the firehouse,” I say as I close the door behind us.
Her eyes widen. “What did they want?”
“I think you were right. They might not be that bad,” I say quietly.
She blinks. “Okay. So, why do you seem upset?”
“There’s more.” I blow out a breath and pace the room.
She steps closer. “Ollie, you’re freaking me out.”
“It was my mom,” I grit out. “She’s the one who called CPS.”
Silence.
Poppy’s face doesn’t crumple. It hardens to stone.
“What are we going to do?” she asks. “Have you told Cami?”
I shake my head. “I had to tell you first.”
That question wrecks me. Because I know what I want to do. And I hate that I have to do it. I just don’t want to bring that ugliness around my family. They’ve been through enough.
I drag a hand through my hair. “I’m so mad I can’t see straight.”
She steps into me and wraps her arms around my waist. I cling to her like I might fall apart if I don’t.
“I don’t know what we did to get this shit luck with parents,” she murmurs. “Besides my mom.”
Her hand rubs slow, comforting circles on my back.
“But we’re not them,” she continues. “We do things differently. We fight together.”
I press my forehead to hers. “You and me. Always you.”
She smiles softly. “Always you. We can fight anything together, Ollie.”
Owen knocks on the door. “Everything okay?” he asks, stepping in with a curious expression.
I look at him. At her. At the life we’re building.
“Yeah,” I say. “It will be.”
And for the first time today, I believe it, now that I’m with them.