35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Bear
I ’mma kill this motherfucker.
At Athena’s words, I can’t help but be proud of her because I know it couldn’t have been easy to speak up against a man she doesn’t know. And when she releases my hand and steps behind Paxton in a show of fortitude, my heart just expands tenfold.
Best thing is, this fucking junkie hasn’t seen me yet because I’m standing right behind him.
“Lift your eyes, Son. Don’t ever let nobody make you feel like you can’t look them straight in the eyes.” I’m talking to Pax but looking straight at his sorry excuse for a father. The sperm donor. Which is probably the only good thing this guy’s ever done in his life.
I lost my dad early on, and that void was filled by the love and protection of my mother. Trust me, I’d rather be fatherless than have this waste of space call me his son.
When I place a large hand on this fucker’s shoulder, all I feel is bones slightly covered by skin. The sweater he wears is ripped and barely holding itself together so there’s no doubt he feels the weight of my warning when my fingers curl around the ball of his shoulder. I know he does because the constant scratching on the forearms stops as he looks up at me with nearly vacant eyes.
“The fuck you think you are—” That question dies on his thin, chapped lips when his eyes reach mine and he physically recoils at the sight of me. Straight up, I don’t know if my Black ass scared him ‘cause I just made all of his pasty ass nightmares come true or if the sheer size of me just made him realize that my bicep is bigger than his whole damn head. Don’t matter though, my goal here is to get this guy as far away from Paxton as possible without causing a scene that could give the nice faculty members here a reason to take Paxton away from us.
Ain’t happenin’.
“Come on, man, I see you jonesin’ over here. Lemme hook you up.” At my words, the guy’s eyes light up like the Christmas tree we just took down less than a week ago, and if I weren’t so fucking pissed off that he showed up here at all, I’d feel bad for him. Obviously, I ain’t giving him fuck all for a shit ton of reasons, least of which being that I don’t do drugs and I don’t carry drugs. Hell, I’m more worried about Paxton and the effect this whole scene will have on his healing.
Ain’t nothing out there much worse than losing a mother, but having this fuck up as a father probably comes damn close.
“Yeah, okay, yeah.” This time he looks me square in the eyes as he speaks and my need to knock him out is real.
As I turn him around and away from Paxton, I nod to Athena, hoping she understands that I want Paxton far away from here.
“All good, man. Lemme call my brothers with the stash.” I have to guide him away from Athena and Paxton as they start to walk in the opposite direction but he keeps wanting to turn around like he’s trying to talk to his kid. Yeah, not gonna happen.
We get a few side eyes from the parents who pull their kids a little closer and walk a little faster to their cars. I get it. The big Black man trying to entice the scary, strung out, addict is textbook advertising for the “Just Say No” campaign from the eighties. All we need now is a frying pan and a couple of eggs for the stereotype to be on point. This is your brain on drugs.
Twenty bucks says we get a call from the principal’s office before tomorrow morning.
But that’s a tomorrow problem. Right now, I need to deal with this loser.
Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I continue leading Paxton’s dad away from the middle school just as Psycho starts talking before I get a single word in.
“Thank fuck, brother. I’m bored out of my mind. What’s up?” I grin because a bored Psycho is a down-for-anything Psycho and I’m gonna need my best friend to get creative today.
“I gotchu. Paxton’s dad is here—”
“Motherfuck—” I talk over Psycho even though I appreciate his loyalty.
“—and he’s in need of something to take the edge off.” There’s a pause on the line and I know Psycho well enough. He’s putting the pieces together and soon he’ll make me proud.
“Where are you?”
“At the school.”
“He needs to die.” Always with the drama, damn. I look down at… fuck, I don’t even know his name. For a second, I feel inadequate, like this should be the basics of taking care of a kid. Knowing the name of his biological father.
“Hey, what’s your name?” I put the phone to my shoulder as Psycho takes advantage of the fact that Baby Psycho ain’t around to use every cuss word in the book aimed right at the guy next to me.
“Uh, it’s a… it’s Stan.” Huh. He looks like a Stan . No offense.
When I bring the phone back up to my ear, I catch the end of Psycho’s tirade and can’t help but chuckle.
“—rip his tiny balls off and feed them to Spencer’s cat.” He ain’t playin’ and I’m okay with that. Our favorite EMT asked us to watch his two-hundred-year-old cat a few months ago, and although we were worried he’d scare Ninja and Bandit, we quickly realized it was too old to spend too much energy chasing his food. Walking to his bowl is work enough.
“You comin’ or what?” I ask, nodding at Stan like it’s a done deal.
“You bet your grizzly ass I am. Bringin’ Grinder too. Boner’s mom is back and well… you get the picture.” Christ, these guys should have their own reality TV dedicated just for them. They could call it The Real Bikers of Rockford Beach .
“Hey, where’s Paxton goin’? I gotta see my son. The social worker, she said something about me needin’ to take him home.” Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, I bring my mouth to his ear and whisper in a not so friendly or reassuring tone.
“Trust me, ain’t no world where you get to take Paxton home with you.”
I’m pretty sure that’s when Stan realized he was in a fuckload of trouble.
By the time my brothers arrive, their bikes revving for added effect, I’ve got Stan begging for his life. What a fuckin’ joke.
“Christ, Bear. Did you make him piss his pants?” Grinder calls out just as he slides his helmet off, then looks at Psycho and coos. “Aww, Beary-Poo is all grown up.” These two idiots fist bump then make an explosion sign. Fucking preteens is what they are.
“So, you Pax’s sperm donor?” By now, Stan is scratching his arms up like he’s got bed bugs running a marathon from wrist to elbow and back again, so Psycho’s question doesn’t seem to be a priority.
“Yeah, this is Stan .” I put some emphasis on the name and it makes Psycho grin while Grinder starts humming Eminem’s song. “Come on, let’s go. We’ve got a storage unit not too far from here.”
By the time we make it to our meeting point, Grinder and Psycho, who got there before us, have the door rolled up and a chair set up with a table in the middle. I’m not a fan of the torturing, don’t get off on it like these two weirdos, but I’m willing to go the extra mile if it means keeping Paxton safe.
“So here’s the deal.” Pushing Stan onto the chair, I keep a hand on his shoulder so he doesn’t get any stupid ideas.
“I just need a small hit, man. You know, to keep my mind clear. That's all. Just a tiny hit. I think I got a needle here somewhere.” Oh, this motherfucker came to Paxton’s school, talked to him, and all this time he had a dirty syringe in his pocket?
“You ain’t gettin’ shit. But I’ll tell you what.” Grinder pulls down the roller door while Psycho turns on the overhead light and I get right up in Stan’s face. “I’ll let you live on one condition.”
“Aww c’mon! You’re gonna let him live?” Grinder whines then turns to Psycho. “I thought you said we were gonna play a little.” Some days, I don’t know who is the greater psychopath.
“You said you had somethin’. You promised.” Shaking his head, getting more and more agitated, Stan lifts the sweater sleeves up his bony arms and starts scratching directly on the skin. Fucking Christ, how is this guy even alive?
“I lied.” Pressing my palms on the arm rests, I lean down so that all Stan can see is my face, my eyes probing his very soul. “You see, I want something that only you can give me.”
Stan starts nodding his head like he knows what I’m about to say, happy about it, even.
“Yeah, yeah. I can suck you off. I can do that for a hit, man. Just a small hit.” In this very second, I actually feel sorry for him. In some ways, he’s a prisoner of his addiction in the same way Athena was a prisoner of The Firm. Difference is, she didn’t choose to fuck up her life, she chose to save herself.
“You’re not putting that filthy mouth anywhere near me. What you’re gonna do is sign over your rights to Paxton.” At my words, Stan looks confused, then this motherfucker starts getting an attitude.
“No. He’s my son. I ain’t signin’ shit. He’s my kid and I’ll do whatever the fuck I wan—” One punch is all I give him, just so he’ll shut the fuck up.
“See, I’m trying to be reasonable here, Stan. You know how old Pax is?” At my question, Stan’s brows slant down as his mouth mumbles something I can’t understand. Clearly, he has no fucking clue. “He’s twelve.”
“Yeah, okay. I knew that. I just… I can’t think like this.” Stan’s looking at me like I give a shit.
“Know what his favorite food is? What kind of music he likes to listen to? Do you even fucking know that he cries himself to sleep at night, after he talks to his mom, thinking we can’t hear him?” Stan shakes his head and it’s clear he doesn’t have the mental capacity to take in all of this information right now because his withdrawals are doing a great job of frying his brain. “More importantly, do you really think I’m gonna let you take Paxton and expose him to whatever fucking life you’ve got goin’ on?” Stan frowns, his head shaking from side to side, but his eyes are nearly vacant. “That’s right. You’re gonna have to kill me, Stan. Do you think you can do that? And before you answer that question, remember I’ve got my two best friends here just waiting for you to fuck up.”
Stan’s eyes dart to Grinder and Psycho, who are surprisingly calm back there. “N-no… I mean, yeah.”
I get all up in his face so that he has no other choice than to lean away from me, but Stan still tries to fight the inevitable.
“But he’s my son.”
“Not anymore.” As if it were choreographed, a knock comes at the door and I stand straight, grinning back down at Stan. “Oh, we’ve got a visitor.”
“What the fuck?” Grinder looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Open it.” With my arms crossed over my chest, I try to take this moment in like a gift from God.
“What in the name of sweet Baby Jesus is all this?” The voice of reason… I hope.
“Miss Bennett, good to see you again.” When I turn to face the social worker, I put my hand out and wait for her to shake it. It’s clear she’s not sold on this whole scenario but I needed her to see the man who has the natural right to take Paxton. Wanted her to see him at his worst. Hell, for all I know this is at his best.
“Mmmhmm, I know you did not just make me run across town just to mix me up in whatever illegal activity you’ve got goin’ on here.”
I grin because all that’s missing here is the kitchen roller and she could be the perfect stand-in for my mama.
“No, ma’am. I just wanted you to see what kind of man came to Paxton’s school thinkin’ he could take him away.” I step aside so she can get a full frontal of Stan in all his heroin glory.
“What on God’s green Earth?” Miss Bennett doesn’t step back but her entire body leans away from the mess that is Paxton’s dad. “Did you hurt him?”
Grinder snorts and Psycho slaps him in the back of the head. “Ow!”
“No, ma’am.”
“Did you do anything illegal?” This time, her scrutinizing gaze hits me square in the face.
“No, ma’am.” I have officially poured out my vinegar and replaced it with honey and I see the exact moment when Miss Bennett sees the good in me. The mama’s boy who would always do right by Paxton.
“Well, it’s not up to me, but I’ll see what I can do.” She turns from the two stooges in the back and whispers. “Who are these two?” Her thumb is pointing over her shoulder and her bottom lip is cocked out in disapproval.
“Nobody important.” I wink, hoping these two idiots won’t be the reason we can’t get custody of Paxton.
“Hey!” This time Grinder is the one elbowing Psycho so he’ll shut his trap.
“Miss Bennett, just tell me what I need to do and I’ll get it done. Paxton is happy with us and this guy all but forgot about him as soon as he thought he was getting an ounce of drugs. That’s just not—” Miss Bennett takes out her phone and shushes me with her index finger in the air. It’s as efficient as a shoe to the back of my head. Oh, the sweet memories.
“Say it again.”
I’m hovering over Athena, my weight pressing against my forearms on either side of her head while she looks up at me with love as unconditional as it is honest. This is the fifth time I’ve told her.
“He’s ours.” I love saying those words. They’re like sweet honey to a sore throat.
Earlier today, Miss Bennett called her superior and got the ball rolling on Stan. It was surprisingly easy to convince him to give up his legal rights to Paxton. The mere cost of raising him and the risk of jail if he didn’t do it right was enough to scare him.
That and knowing that I’d be watching him like a fucking hawk every minute of every fucking day until he fucked up. And he would, fuck up that is. This way, things are easier and no one is killed.
Because let’s be clear, me witnessing Paxton being abused would have been a death sentence for Stan, and despite his current state, he was very much aware of that.
“Forever?” My hips are moving slowly as my cock slides between her pussy lips. She likes the tease, the slow-burning need that drives her crazy.
“Well, the legalities will take a while but we’ll get a lawyer and make it all official. For now, he stays with us without the fear of him being taken away.” My chest is against her chest, my stomach pressing against her every time I slide up and down until I rear my hips back and position the head of my cock at her entrance.
“You’re my hero.” At the sound of her words, I slam inside her and we both gasp at the perfection of it all.
“Nah, Baby Girl, I’m no hero. I’m just a man in love with the strongest woman I know.” I pull back and slam right back in again, my lips coming to hers and my tongue demanding entry.
“Yeah, I’m pretty badass, huh?” She speaks into my mouth, her words mumbled as my tongue seeks her out.
“The fucking baddest of them all.” My hands grab onto her head and we kiss the same way we fuck. Slowly, with an intensity that fills our entire bodies. “Now, stop talking and start screaming.”
“Paxton’s in the next room.” She giggles and it’s like a small ray of sunshine settling deep in my heart.
“Guess you’re gonna have to scream all quiet then.” The small jut of her bottom lip is too tempting to ignore, so I don’t. Trapping it between my teeth, I thrust inside her just as I lick away the sting of the bite.
“Bear?”
“Yeah, Baby Girl?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” I should be the one thanking her for giving me life and meaning. For bringing love into my world to balance out the club life. For loving me for exactly who I am.
“For being you.” Fucking Christ. My vision gets blurry as my thrusts get faster, more intense. We’re not fucking, we’re making love like two souls brought together with the sole purpose of creating bone-deep happiness.
“I am who I am because you see me, Baby Girl. Now, stop talking and start moanin’.” Her giggle is lost in my mouth as I bring her to orgasm, slow and intense, with love filling both of our hearts.
Mama always said, “You’ll know when she’s the one, Son, because time will have no meaning and your love will be as clear as the mountain waters.”
Even from the grave, Mama is always right.