Chapter Thirty-Six
AT LUNCHTIME ON SUNDAY, we had a meeting scheduled with Micro and Grease, to go over the plans for the new site. I’d also compiled, with Caroline’s help, a list of requirements for while the demo/build was in progress, and vendors to use for those.
She was surprised when I asked her to come with me, to help talk them through the ideas, but by the time we reached the clubhouse, her laptop safely tucked in her backpack, I think she’d relaxed into the idea.
It was looking more and more like she’d be able to tolerate biker life, even if it wasn’t as fully as I’d love her to be involved. It was a huge fucking relief.
“Hey, we’re just heading into Church, you coming?” I nodded to Micro, liberating Caroline’s backpack from her shoulders, and taking her hand to lead her in that direction.
Luckily, although there were bikers hanging around already, they were mostly in the lounge, with just a few sitting around the fire pit, which wasn’t lit yet.
“Here we go, just in here.”
“It doesn’t look very fancy for a church,” she commented, her eyes taking in every detail of the shabby meeting room, as Micro and Grease both chuckled. Jay, as she’d finally permitted me to call her, followed us in a moment later, carrying a tablet, and waving hi to Caroline.
We had a large TV screen on the same wall as the door, so we amassed around the head end of the table, with Micro in his President seat, and us from my VP seat and along the side.
I’d pulled Caroline’s chair close to mine, so she was almost between me and Micro, because I wasn’t leaving her feeling exposed.
She carefully hooked up her laptop to the AV cables, and opened up her design program.
“So before Caroline shows you this, I want to explain a little about it. Having taken on board your thoughts, and ours, we’re suggesting a large interconnected building, wrapping around a courtyard, with its own set of gates, so that we have a secondary point of defence before anyone wanders in.”
“Yeah, that’d keep those nosy cops out,” Grease muttered, grunting a moment later as Jay elbowed him in the chest. “Jesus, little pain.”
“Anyway, we’ve mapped out an idea for the site, and we’ll talk you through that, and the same program can be used to map out where the cameras will go for security, and of course all cabling can be routed inside walls before we plaster them over, as Grease suggested.”
Micro rubbed his hands together with glee.
“Fucking love it already. The other chapter will be jealous as fuck. Wait, before you show it, we’ve got a prospect bringing drinks and snacks.
He had to head out for them, so we’ll wait for him to drop them off first. I’m excited about this though.
I feel like the old club had a bad feel about it, and wiping the slate clean and truly rising from the ashes should make it feel fresh and new. ”
“Rising from the ashes, Jesus, way to over-use a fucking metaphor, Pres.”
Micro flipped Grease off, and we all fell silent as the prospect knocked, and delivered a tray of takeaway drinks with some sandwiches and pastries.
Once he’d left, and we’d shared those out, Caroline opened up the design on screen, and used her skills with the program to break it down, and show off each area as I described it.
The Pres, Grease, and Jay piped up with occasional comments or questions, but I could tell we were all pretty much on the same page.
Grease actually cheered at the idea of covered storage for our rides, saying we’d be like a real biker club at last.
“Caroline, why don’t you show them the secondary version with your suggestions.” Her cheeks reddened, and she stared at me pleadingly.
“It’s okay, we’re all friends here, right? They’re not going to disrespect you.”
“Heaven forbid,” Grease muttered, but he grinned at her, “no, seriously go on. I’m curious now.”
When she showed the revised version, they all had a chuckle at the idea of old lady space, but again there were no objections.
“That’ll be perfect for when the baby’s here,” Micro said, snapping a photo on his phone to show Sophie.
“Any idea when that’ll be, Pres?”
“Yeah, I need to pretend I’m busy, so I don’t have to be anywhere near that,” Grease added, smirking at both of us.
“They’re saying in the next seven days, but who knows. Everything we’ve read says that it could be half that or double it. I dunno. I guess probably at the most inconvenient moment, so I can fuck it up.”
“Why would you mess it up?” Caroline asked, avoiding the word she never used, even though she must hear it multiple times a day with me.
Micro grimaced, dragging a hand down his face. “Just, I’m not exactly like Harley, and so organised and calm. I’m gonna lose my shit, and let her down, I just know it.”
I rolled my eyes. “You think I didn’t freak out, man? I was a fucking kid, remember?”
Jay’s eyes darted around the room, probably because for once Grease hadn’t run his mouth, so I nodded at her.
“I have a daughter, and I was, uh, sixteen when she was conceived.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock, but I was already focused back on Micro, because the guy was clearly freaking out again.
“You won’t mess this up, Micro. You’re too invested in being the best dad you can be. That’s how you won’t mess it up. You’re not alone either. You have all of us to back you.”
“Not me. I hate babies,” Grease added, but his shit-eating grin belied his words.
“Jesus, I feel like once the baby’s here, I’ll fall into a pattern, but it’s the actual birth part that’s freaking me out.”
“Imagine how Sophie feels,” Jay pointed out, and he groaned.
“Okay, back to the subject at hand. Love this. Love all of it. Do it with the old lady room, agreed, Grease?” He was deferring to him since he was bankrolling this shit for us, and Grease nodded.
“So now we just need to make it happen.” I nodded to Caroline, who pulled up the lists of information we’d compiled, suppliers, supplies we’d need, like temporary shacks for running the club, for Church, and for those who lived here to stay in.
Caroline
IT WAS AMAZING, TO be honest. To be accepted like this by these people I barely knew. To be listened to, like my ideas and suggestions were impressive, to be respected for what I’d done, how hard I’d worked.
It was more empowering than I’d imagined, like I’d grown up a little just during this process.
That was part of my problem until now. I’d never really felt like an adult, just like a teenager trying to behave like one, trying to mimic their behaviour so I’d fit in.
Harley’s acceptance of me, along with their acceptance of me, exactly as I am, had done wonders for my confidence.
It’d proved to me that maybe I’d never been pretending, but I’d needed others to see me this way for me to actually feel it.
While I didn’t like the idea of my self-worth being predicated by their belief in me, by any other person’s belief in me, I had to admit that it felt good.
It seemed to settle something inside me that had always been trying to measure up.
“Set a date for the demo party, and let’s get this shit knocked the fuck down,” Micro said, slamming a hand on the desk in his excitement, making me jump.
“Shit, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered, and Harley growled under his breath.
“No, it’s not okay, you all had one job. Don’t fucking startle my old lady.”
“Speaking of old ladies, when are you guys getting inked? I’m still waiting for Has-Been to come here and tat me, and make Jay mine for good.”
“I am NOT having a tattoo that calls me your fucking property, Grease!”
I blinked slowly, sluggishly, as their words permeated my senses, and I realised what they were saying. Tattoos. Tattoos were a part of being an old lady? Oh. My. God.
“Caroline? Hey, baby, look at me. It’s okay, you don’t have to have one if you don’t want to.”
“I mean, it’s kinda mandatory though,” Grease argued, and then something slammed again, and I jumped once more.
“Ow fuck, Jay! You nearly broke my finger!”
I squeezed my eyes closed as the noise level rose in the room, making me feel penned in, trapped, constricted. Tattoos. Mandatory. If I didn’t get the tattoo, I couldn’t be Harley’s. How did I not know this before?
“Can you fuckers shut it?” Micro suddenly snapped, lurching up from his seat, and almost manhandling Grease out of the room, closely followed by Jay, who was still snapping at him.
“I’m sorry, you guys. This feels like a chat you two have to have privately, but hear me on this.
Yes, tattoos have always been a part of the old lady ceremony, but I’m hardly likely to not recognise your union if that doesn’t happen.
Family doesn’t treat each other like that.
” Micro disappeared out of the room, and Harley dragged my chair round, so his knees sat either side of mine, encasing me in a bubble of warmth and safety.
“Caroline, baby, you know I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. I know you love me either way.”
He cupped my cheeks and waited until my eyes regained their focus, landing on his solemn gaze.
“All I want is you, however you want me, and if ink isn’t something you want, then it doesn’t happen,” he frowned briefly, “scratch that, I’d still get the tat calling you mine.
I feel like I’ve needed that on my skin ever since we started to get closer.
Like an itch under the skin telling me that your name belongs on me.
It doesn’t mean there’s any pressure for you to do the same. ”
“But… but how can I be your old lady when I’m such a coward that I’m even afraid of a tattoo?”
Harley smiled, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.
“You know what? You’d look sexy as fuck with my tattoo on your sweet skin, claiming you as mine so every fucker knows it, but I’d never want you to feel forced into something like that.
Tattoos are a lifelong decision, and someone who struggles with being touched is always going to find it damn near impossible. ”
My eyes lowered, and I sighed. “I want to be brave, but every time I feel like I’m stepping up, and being like everyone else, being a grown up, something else comes up that makes me realise I’m still just a kid playing pretend.”
“Definitely not a kid,” Harley whispered, kissing the tip of my nose, “definitely a grown up. Definitely mine. Definitely braver than you realise. With or without my ink, you’ll still be my old lady, baby.”
He dragged me out of my chair, so I straddled his lap, and practically crushed me against his chest, but his words kept going around and around in my head.
Brave? That was the last thing I was, because I couldn’t even sit in a room without jumping at a loud sound, or going into a panic spiral over a simple concept like a tattoo.
How could I even be an old lady without a tattoo?