Chapter 29
twenty-nine
DANE
Leaning against the door frame, I watch Darcy float around the office, ranting to Gris-Gris as she works. “Could you believe Renee?” she complains. “She looked even more constipated than normal.”
I can’t stifle the laugh that gives away my presence. I was certain I’d find Darcy crying. There’s so much pain in her eyes with any mention of her family.
Nope, my woman is good and mad. She’s wearing her adorable miffed kitten expression still, not a tear in sight. My strong girl makes me so proud.
“Constipated, huh?” I remark, straightening my body to stand.
She lets out a disgusted scoff, a firmness around her lips. “It scares me that I share DNA with her.”
I wrap my arms around her from behind. “You got the good genes. Kinda like in that old movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito. One twin got all the good DNA and the other the shit.”
“You do realize I didn’t grow up watching television and movies and have no frame of reference?”
“We’ll have to watch it one night after little buddy goes to sleep. It’s funny.”
“You didn’t need to leave whatever you were doing to come and check up on me. I’m fine.”
“Wanted to see for myself.”
She moves out of my arms and gives me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m wrapping up a few things before I pick up Owen. It’s supposed to start raining in an hour, and I don’t want Yogi and Archer stuck out there.”
“Babe, they’re tucked in the prospect house,” I point out.
When her eyebrows knot in confusion, I add, “The Dogs own the two houses across the street from Eleanor’s for the prospects.”
“But, there are no motorcycles at all over there. I’ve never seen nor heard them?”
“Map it out in your head. Those houses share a fence line with us. Neighbors were always complaining about the noise, so we bought them out to keep peace. The men who live there park their bikes in our lot and walk through a gate in the fence so the neighbors don’t complain about us driving past their houses.”
“So, someone was always watching out for Owen?” she asks, shoulders slumping with relief.
“Always.” Maybe it’s because I’m a new parent, but the thought of my son unprotected gives me hives. If anyone was pissed at me or the club…
Darcy turns her head, stands on her tippy toes, and places a kiss on my jawline. “I don’t know how I got lucky enough for you to be mine.”
I rest my chin on her shoulder. “That’s because we were always meant to be. It’s why the universe brought you back to Parran.”
I kiss her neck, then move away, clearing my throat. “I’m going to go work on a project. You need me, call, okay?”
“I’m fine, just mad as hell,” she answers dismissively. Pulling in a deep breath, she says, “I understand if you need to tell my parents and Renee not to come to White Dog or whatever, but I want this to play out the right way. Karma’s going to get Dad in the end.”
You don’t need to wait for the universe to inflict justice when there are federal agents ready to see him behind bars. The more they dig, the more criminal charges Darcy’s father faces.
The charges are quickly racking up on him. Theft from an employee benefit plan, embezzlement, wire fraud. It’s not looking so good for him.
Darcy’s plea breaks my self-content train of thought. “Dane…you’re not saying anything. Promise me.”
I don’t want Darcy’s hard-earned peace disrupted, so I say, “I’ll make a friendly call to them to explain the lay of the land.”
Darcy smiles, the worry disappearing from her face. “Are we still on for date night Saturday? Presh texted me to ask if she can bring Owen to the farm.”
I take the deliberate change in topic and run with it. “Absolutely. I want you on the back of my bike as often as I can.”
* * *
My Friday afternoon is spent hiding in the overflow garage in the back of the lot. Away from the daily hubbub of repairs, the metal shed gives me the quiet space to do what I truly love—restoring a bike to their former glory. Nothing frees my mind more than working with my hands. I’ve tinkered away most of the afternoon free of disruptions, trying to clear my mind.
After a decade in storage, the rebuilt engine of the motorcycle finally comes to life. I pull in a satisfied breath.
While moving Flinch and his sisters out of town, his Mom, Kimberly, tried to take a hammer to Beer Goggle's bike. My father saved it, storing it in one of the outbuildings on our land. Knowing Flinch is close to earning his patch, I started working on it a few months ago, hoping to have it up and running when he’s voted in. The fact that it’s purring like a kitten feels like an omen. Band-Aid isn’t too far behind him either. Even with Merlin’s seat at the table now empty, our brotherhood will soon grow again.
I kill the engine as my dad walks in, handlebar mustache tidied up, hair slicked back in a ponytail. He’s wearing his good boots and a newer pair of jeans. He only goes through the trouble of messing with his appearance when he’s off to spend the evening with a lady friend, or when he has his monthly lunches with the mayor. It’s barely two p.m., meaning he’s stopped by on his way home from meeting with his old friend.
“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” he says almost to himself.
Noticing the bike, a fat boy from the ’90s, my father slowly circles it, inspecting my work. I left it black, but painted the top of the fenders and tank whiskey fire orange. “Nice touch,” Dad says, running his thumb across a decal on the tank— a skeleton head wearing riding goggles. It’s a quiet homage to the original owner, and one I think Flinch will appreciate.
“Time for it to come alive again,” I say.
“You know, I gave Beer Goggles his road name? On his first run as a prospect, he got drunk and started texting that he was taking a local girl back to his motel room. The hottest piece of ass he’d ever seen. None of us got a look at her, so he took quite a ribbing the whole trip back about it.”
Funny. I gave Flinch his.
“Heard your in-laws came calling yesterday,” he mentions.
“You could say that. I turned everything Folgers found over to the District Attorney. I would have had someone watching out for Darcy’s family, but the feds picked up Gerald for questioning before the sheriff said they would.”
“What about the younger sister?”
“I’m going to get her to leave, hide her until she’s emancipated, then put her in the tiny house with Sutton and Meadow if she wants to stay with us.”
Dad doesn’t say anything, just nods, whatever he really wants on the tip of his tongue. “Do you need something?” I ask, hoping a little bit for my rare peace to be restored. He didn’t come to talk to me about Darcy. He may be my father, but he’d never interfere with another man’s old lady.
“Nope, just wanted to catch a glimpse of this beauty again.” He takes a slow step forward and runs his thumb over the decal.
With far too much casualness, Dad asks, “So, you happen to know if Kimberly is coming to see Flinch at his patching in?”
Huh. Now we’re getting to the real questions.
“Kimberly hung up on me as soon as she realized who I was, so I take it that’s a no.”
Dad’s lips flatten and he mutters something about “stubborn ass women” before shaking his head disapprovingly.
Interesting. Having recently suffered the loss of their spouses, the pair were close for a while. Then out of nowhere, Dad was in a pissy mood, and Kimberly left town pretty much overnight, never to be heard from again.
Something happened there, and all these years later, my far-too-single dad is getting his feathers ruffled at the thought of seeing her again.
“I’ll be sure to let you know if she changes her mind,” I offer, trying to hide the smile on my lips.
As Dad turns to leave he says, “You should cut out of here early. I have all the time in the world to work on a bike now. What I don’t have is time to spend with the love of my life.”
Looking at the clock, I do the math and realize Darcy and I could have a few hours together before I have to head out for the night. I loathe my nights away, running the casino into the early hours of the morning. “Someone else is going to have to run the casino,” I say resigned. “I know the president typically handles it as well as White Dog, but I have the autosupply store in my lap and a young family.”
“Seems to me you only have one captain you can tap in,” Dad points out.
“Yeah I’ve brought it up to Mudbug a couple of times since the vote, but he’s pretty determined to not do it.” An inference lays in the air between us, the fact I’m going to have to make Mudbug do it.
“And that’s the downfall of being the Prez,” Dad says.
I know what he means, being the one who gives the orders, whether they’re liked or not. Mudbug needs to pull his weight. He certainly cashes the checks from the casinos profits. I’m spending too much of my life working and not enough enjoying it. “I’m going to take your advice and drag Darcy out of the office early.”
“You know how lucky you got with her?”
As I pick up the first of the tools to clean up, I inform him, “Fate and luck aren’t the same thing at all. Darcy and I were always meant to be together.”