Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
S triker…
Giving my girl the breather from her grandma had been the right call. The further into the park we wandered, the higher we climbed the varying levels of steps and onto platforms and boardwalks into the aviary, the more she seemed to relax.
We stole some kisses in the shade, and I held her hand in mine for as long as possible, kissing her knuckles every chance I got.
Eventually, we ran back into her family as, of course, Grandma had insisted on coming around this way with the boys to see what was over here.
She was a conniver, that one – thrived on drama. I knew the type. My mother was just like her. Like my mother, I’d bet even money that Rarity’s memaw had been one of the mean girls in high school back in the ’60s or whenever she’d gone.
The thing about mean girls is they pretty much top out at their peak in high school, and then spend the rest of their natural lives in the same damn mindset. They weren’t smart or talented enough to do anything else.
I kept Rarity under my wing and we went and enjoyed the show, Skull and Bones putting gators through their paces and demonstrating their formidable and awesome power. Bones coming on through the audience with a baby cayman on its back, little snout taped shut, to let people stroke its belly and watch it fall pretty much instantly asleep.
The boys were rapt, and Mom looked like she was enjoying herself as thoroughly as her kids, meanwhile, Grandma tried and failed to pry while myself and her granddad stone walled her the best we could.
Finally, it was a trip through the giftshop where I sprang for four stuffed alligators. Three green ones and a white one for my girl. It was supposed to be a match for the white gator they had here – but it wasn’t an albino. It was something else entirely as it didn’t have the red eyes of an albino but rather blue. Something about a pigmentation mutation in its genes or some shit.
It was what’d gotten Skull and Bones on board with this place. They’d caught the thing in the wild, practically just coming out of the nest. Had brought it here and the rest was pretty much history.
They were born trappers and hunters, and they made regular trips on down into the Glades to help thin the over population of invasive species reptiles and shit that’d gotten loose in the aftermath of Hurricane Andrew and had proceeded to breed wild and decimate the local eco-system.
A whole wing of the Gator Farm was shit that they’d caught and brought in up here to display and educate about the ecosystems and shit of the swamp. They’d really been the ones to turn this place around from a rundown roadside attraction with just a few alligators and snakes, into the wild attraction that it was now featuring species from all over the fuckin’ world and then some.
It was impressive shit.
“Well, it was very nice meeting you Striker,” Grandma declared in this tone that made me straight up believe that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
“Likewise, ma’am,” I said. “You wanna grab your bag?” I asked Rarity and she nodded, going for the back of the van and where she’d stashed her backpack.
“What?” her grandmother looked surprised, “No, you’re coming home with us,” she said and I tried not to snort and laugh at the look Rarity’s Mom and Granddad exchanged behind the woman’s back.
“I’ll be home tomorrow,” Rarity said and came back over to me.
“Today is a family day, Rarity Jane,” her grandmother said, tone dripping with disapproval, and she gave me a faint, brittle smile, that just plain pissed me off as she said to me, “You understand, of course.”
“I surely do,” I said. “Family day was fun, and it’s over now – so if you don’t mind, I’m going to take Rarity here for a walk on the beach and a meetup with some of our friends for dinner tonight.”
“But—”
“Oh, Mom, just let it go! Rarity deserves some time off and to have some fun with people her own age!” Rarity’s mom glared at her mother as she turned around from buckling the last of the boys in.
“Except he’s not her own age!” her grandmother said ruthlessly.
Ah, and there it was…
“Rarity?” I asked. “You happy?”
“Very,” she said, hugging into my side and giving her grandmother a worse than a withering look. She wore a sad and disappointed one.
“Well, the boys…” her grandmother tried to argue, but it was Granddad to the rescue with a firm, “Barbara.”
Her grandma looked pissed and Rarity stood up just a little straighter and said, “I’m twenty-four, and not five . I’ll see you all tomorrow .”
I smiled and gave her a bit of a squeeze, but I could tell, the fight with Grandma was far from over. Grandma glared at me, a wintery look, but here was the thing – I ran my own life. She didn’t dictate what I did, what Rarity did, and I was damn sure looking forward to defiling her granddaughter every which way from Sunday tonight, just for the satisfaction of knowing how much it would piss Barbra off if she knew just what we got up to.
“Get in the car, Mom,” Rarity’s mom snapped, and I had a feeling she was about to give her mom and maybe even her dad some hell on the way home. Didn’t matter how old they were – they deserved it as far as I was concerned. Barbara for being Barbara, and Gramps for, well, being such a fuckin’ pushover and letting his wife run roughshod over everybody. I mean, for fuck’s sake – be a man .
Rarity cast a grateful look to her mother and I steered her away toward my bike.
“Jesus Christ, that woman doesn’t know when to quit, does she?” I asked.
“I am so sorry,” Rarity said, stopping at my bike to set her backpack on the seat to open it up and put her prize snowy gator stuffy into it for the ride.
“Baby, you ain’t got nothing to be sorry for. I have a feeling ol’ granny’s met her match. I don’t give a fuck if she likes me or not. I’m in it to win it with you , not her.”
“Yeah, but what about when she doubles down?” she asked. “It wears on you, and fast – believe me.”
“Shit, she wants to fuck around, she can find out,” I told her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, shrugging back into her backpack.
“It means, whatever you want and need to do, that’s up to you and I’m here for it. If she wants to get so insufferable that you spend more time up here and less down there, I’d be happy to make that happen. It’s whatever’s good for you, baby girl.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?” she asked softly, staring up at me with no little wonder on her face.
“Damn straight. She can fuckin’ try me,” I said. “I mean, shit; she’s just like my mother; in fact, my mother is arguably worse – so to be perfectly honest with you, better bitches than your grandmother have tried and look how that worked out. I’m here, Mom is back in Arkansas, and I don’t have fuck all to do with her.”
She snorted and covered her mouth with both of her hands in this adorable way to keep from laughing. I got on the bike; she settled on behind me and wrapped her arms around me and I fired it up.
“God, I love you!” she called over the chug of the motor and I wondered where that’d come from, even if I wasn’t complaining.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
She shook her head, and watched her family go by, waving at the boys who waved wildly at us as they went by, her grandmother stiff in the passenger seat and not looking in our direction. Her mom wore an annoyed look, but didn’t look our way, either – preferring to focus on driving.
We pulled out of the lot shortly after her family did, although I took us the opposite way they headed on purpose.
I took her to the beach for a walk and to let the breeze carry a bunch of the bad vibes off down the way, over the sand to swirl out over the water and drown.
We were having a barbecue out at Stormy’s place, some party time by the pool, and I was looking forward to good food, good beer, and my baby girl in my lap.
We held hands as we walked the beach and talked about things.
All sorts of things, really.
Her hopes and dreams were simple ones. She eventually did want to go to school, as soon as the boys were in school themselves, and I loved her even more for the way she’d put her life on hold for that. She knew childcare was expensive and worked as much as she could and had taken on roles that were far too adult for herself at an early enough age when she should have been starting life for herself.
She did so much and asked so little in return, and it ground my gears that even though her grandmother was supposed to be there to help , she usually did far more to complicate things.
We talked about projects around the house that her dad had wanted to do, and hadn’t gotten to, and I made the decision to take a few of those on if it would make her and her mom’s life easier.
All in all, Rarity was an easy girl to love, and part of loving her meant loving those boys and her mom and yeah, even her complicated and messy grandmother and her poor granddad that was more often than not affable and forgotten somewhere in the background.
It was wild, but it was also organic, and easy, and wholesome in a way I hadn’t expected my life to take a turn for.
I was alright with it, though. I liked planning with my baby girl. I liked scheming and dreaming with her. I liked that her dreams were simple enough without a whole lot of flash and that she was a calm to the general storm that was life with the Bastards.
It was nice, and just walking barefoot along the beach with her like we were now, was almost a surreal and freeing experience in and of itself.
We laughed and she bumped shoulders knocking me off balance, when I told her we needed to find her a hobby other than her little brothers, when she couldn’t come up with anything that she did outside of working and caring for them.
Although, truthfully, those boys were a hoot, and I’d loved watching their little faces light up at the Gator Farm.
“Where to, now?” she asked me as we dusted off our feet as best we could and donned our shoes again.
“We’re off to Renegade’s for a club dinner and just to relax and hang around the pool,” I said. “Then when you’ve had enough food and enough of people, I’d like to take you home to my place and snuggle my little girl and just have a low-key evening.”
She grinned and nodded and said, “I like the sound of that.”
The ride to Renegade’s was refreshing, and it was probably a little eye opening for Rarity. I mean, I was used to this shit, but I could tell as we rolled along the big, gated mansions and houses as we delved into one of the richer neighborhoods of St. Augustine, she was not prepared.
I rolled up to the gate and hit the intercom button.
“Who goes there?” a voice came over the speaker box. I revved the bike twice, which was the proper response, and the gate swung open for us.
Rarity giggled behind me as we swept down the long drive and pulled into the circular drive at the end. She hopped off so I could back the bike into the line already up against the curb.
She stood on the front step, staring at the fountain in the center of the drive as I shut off the bike and pulled the key, looping the ring around my index finger and catching the bundle of keys in the palm of my hand.
“This is Renegade’s place?” she asked, and she looked a cross between intimidated and suitably impressed.
“Yep. When I said his custom shop was one of the best in the business I wasn’t exaggerating,” I said.
I went to her and took her hand.
“This place is… a lot,” she said and I chuckled.
“Wait’ll you see the inside ,” I said dryly.
I went to the front door, arm around my girl, and put my hand to the latch, depressing the button with my thumb and going right on in. We didn’t stand on ceremony, the guys and I when it came to Renegade’s place. As our President, he made it clear to each and every one of us – fancy digs aside, mi case et su casa… or whatever the saying was.
Rarity stepped over the threshold, and I smiled to myself faintly.
For me? This was more of a coming into the inner sanctum than being at the club or hanging in my own home.
Renegade’s wasn’t for club bunnies and sweet tits to come around. We only came around the manse with real ones, and by bringing her here, the boys would know – Rarity was as real as it got for me.