Thirty-Two
Scarlett
I stand from the table, along with the other girls, starting to gather plates and clean up the mess. I have to admit, I really like having women around that aren’t strippers and biker groupies.
My eyes instinctively turn to find James when I hear his deep laugh across the yard. He’s standing with Army and Fifty, smoke seeping from his lips as he laughs. I love seeing him like this.
“Set those plates back down, darlin’. Come take a little walk with me,” Pops requests, his hand gently touching my arm.
“Uh…okay,” I stutter.
Setting the plates back down on the table, I feel a slight pang of guilt knowing that the others are doing all the clean-up. Cora catches my eye and offers a smile.
“Don’t worry about the mess. Go on,” she says and I smile back, offering a small nod.
Pops offers his arm and I take his elbow, letting him lead me across the lot. The gritty scent inside the garage fills my nostrils as we walk through, finally stopping in a small office.
“This is how the club started. Right here, in this garage. It was just me and a couple guys. All we wanted to do was work on our bikes and ride together. It’s grown a lot since those days,” he shares, pointing out a wall filled with hanging photos.
“Go ahead. Take a closer look,” he grins.
I move forward, my eyes stopping on an aged photo of three guys standing in front of a sign reading Dawson’s Garage. My hand lifts to touch the glass it’s set behind.
“That was the day we opened this place. It was just me, O.B. and Tommy,” he explains.
My eyes continue to move over the wall, examining the history. Dozens of pictures cover the wall, but I quickly stop on another. It looks like a clone of James, but it’s obviously an old photo.
“That’s Jimmy Jr. and Kasper,” Pops shares.
“So, that’s James’s dad?” I ask.
“And his uncle,” he answers as I continue to examine the picture. They’re both wearing leather cuts, and I know that Jimmy is gone, but I’ve never heard anything about Kasper.
“Can I ask about Kasper? Is he still around?” I wonder softly.
“You’ve probably heard his nickname. He went by Ghost,” Pops tells me and I nod in realization. I have heard stories, but I never made the connection.
“Kasper took over the club for a short time when Jimmy passed, but it didn’t work out. The problem with my youngest was that he always put himself first. Kasper thought about himself before the club, before his family. He got mixed up in some bad shit and brought it down on the club. We dealt with the fallout, but in true Kasper fashion, he ran to protect his own ass. Knowing him, he’s alive and well, scamming some poor sucker in Mexico or maybe Canada. He has the ability to survive,” he offers.
“So, you lost both your boys?” I ask.
“I did. But I still have James, and he just might be the perfect combination of both of my boys. He’s strong, both mentally and physically, and he puts family first,” he says, and I watch his eyes light up as he talks about James.
I turn back to the photos, finding an adorable picture of James sitting on a bike in front of his dad, a huge smile filling his face.
“How old was he in this picture?” I ask.
“Maybe five or six. He always wanted to be around the bikes. Even as a toddler, he loved it,” Pops smiles.
I find another picture of James. He’s older, definitely a teenager, and he’s wearing a leather cut with a prospect patch sewn on his chest. Jimmy is standing beside him, his arm around his shoulders and his face beaming with pride.
“I knew he was born into this, like me… I mean, I knew it was in his blood, but I never had any idea. This is amazing. Thank you so much for sharing this with me,” I tell Pops, feeling a gentle tingle pulling at my eyes, threatening tears.
“Seeing him with someone he really cares about, it’s something I’ve been waiting a long time for. And I know it’s something his dad wanted for him too. Trust me when I say, I see it when he looks at you. The way he watches you. Even if he hasn’t been man enough to say it yet, my grandson loves you,” Pops says and I feel a warm droplet release, running down my cheek.
I lift my hand, quickly wiping the single tear away before any more can spill. There’s no doubt that something has been growing between us, but being here, around his family has me feeling like it might actually be real.
???
The barbecue with the club was completely perfect. I wish I had a little longer to spend with this group, but we’re leaving tomorrow night.
The steady sound of water falling tells me that James is in the shower. I pull open one of his dresser drawers and reach in for a t-shirt. I pull it over my head and then quickly unclasp my bra, pulling it out through the sleeve and dropping it on top of my pile of clothes. A quick tap on the door grabs my attention.
“Shaaark…” a female voice drags out his nickname, and I feel my body tense. “C’mon, I know you’re here,” she tries again.
Just because I’m the first to be invited to stay in this room, to share his real bed, doesn’t mean that there weren’t others he spent time with before me. I know how the men embrace this life. I’ve witnessed it firsthand since I was just a girl. But watching over the years has also taught me how to deal with women like this, although this is the first time I’ve had to deal with one in this capacity.
I pull my shoulders back and move toward the door, trying to appear as confident as possible. I yank it open and find a skinny smiling brunette standing in front of me. Her tiny shorts practically look like underwear and her lace up crop-top leaves little to the imagination with her fake boobs pulling at the strings. Her smile quickly fades as she realizes I’m not who she was looking for.
“You’re not Shark. Damn, I really thought I had the right room,” she says, leaning back and looking down the hallway, counting the doors. “Sorry,” she offers, starting to turn.
“This is Shark’s room,” I say and she stops in her tracks. “He’s busy, but I can tell him you stopped by, if you want,” I offer and I can see the questioning gaze in her eyes as she turns back to look at me. Her eyes move over me, examining me.
“Uh… Who are you?” she finally asks.
“Scarlett,” I answer, giving her as little information as possible. “And you are?” I ask in return.
“Kandi,” she answers and her eyes seem to focus in on Shark’s t-shirt, covering my body. “Wait. Does Shark really know you’re here, or did you sneak into his room to steal shit? Do I need to get some of the guys to kick your crazy ass out?” she starts accusing.
“He knows I’m here,” I share.
“Well, I know Shark, and I also know he doesn’t bring women to his room. So, what exactly is going on here?” she questions.
“If that’s the case, then what are you doing here?” I ask without answering.
“I heard Shark was back in town, so I thought I’d welcome him home with a little invitation to the dark room,” she flashes a grin that makes me sick, but I push the feeling back down.
“Well, I can pass that message along, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to be busy all night right here,” I manage to say through my gritted teeth.
“Seriously, who are you?” she continues to examine me and I know she’s not going to budge until I tell her.
“I told you, I’m Scarlett. I’m visiting from Las Vegas. Shark invited me to come home with him, he wanted me to meet his family here,” I smile seeing the color drain from her face in complete shock. “So, was that all you needed?” I ask.
“Uh…yeah, I guess so,” she mutters slowly as if she can’t find the words she’s looking for.
“Okay then. I’ll let him know you stopped by. Have a good night,” I say before pushing the door closed in her face.