Chapter Six.
Kendara
I t’s funny how a thumping headache can clear up so quickly. After Rooster had ushered the children from the room and handed me some pills, he pointed me to the private bathroom and left me alone. Rooster carried Brax out of the bedroom with Brax demanding he be left with his Kenny.
Now, as I sat on the bed and tried to tame my bob, howls came from upstairs, where I assumed Brax was having a bath. Judging by the noise, anyone would assume there was a murder happening.
My stomach gurgled, and I finally got to my feet and exited the bedroom.
Clearly, Roo was with Brax, but I heard noises from the rear of the house, so I made my way there. Rooster was a lucky guy; his home was beautiful. When I entered the kitchen, my jaw dropped. It was stunning and would fulfil any chef’s desires.
Kit and Finn were sitting at an island, slapping peanut butter onto bread.
“Hey, want some dinner?” Kit asked, waving the knife about and flicking a glob of peanut butter in my direction.
“That’s dinner?”
“Yeah?” Kit looked down at his plate. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Put the knife down,” I demanded.
Dear God, these kids could not eat that. I opened the fridge and saw some chicken and fresh stuff. I hunted around and found the ingredients I wanted. Rooster clearly cooked.
“Dad usually cooks, but Brax has avoided a bath for four days, so Dad’s scrubbing him. Especially as he got really dirty earlier by crawling in the mud,” Kits explained.
“Why?” I asked absently as I began chopping the chicken into chunks.
“Because Brax was trying to shoot Troy with his catapult,” Finn answered.
“Shh, we agreed not to tell. Uncle Chance was not happy,” Kit hissed.
“Well, it wasn’t me who shot Uncle Chance’s window,” Finn retorted.
In disbelief, I put the knife down as I listened.
“And I didn’t give Troy the catapult!” Kit denied.
“Nuh, I had mine. Where was yours?”
“Troy had his own. Didn’t you see it? Troy shot out Uncle Chance’s window,” Kit snapped at Finn .
“Wasn’t me who broke Aunt Clio’s flowerpot,” Finn hissed.
“Oh yeah, you’re just an angel. That was Brax,” Kit exclaimed. “And by the way, bro? I saw you aim at Troy and hit Uncle Chance’s favourite mug and smash it.”
“Agree not to tell till death do us part,” Kit and Finn stated together after exchanging a glance.
Holy hell, who were these children? They both turned to me and smiled angelically.
“Can we eat our sandwiches now?” they asked.
“One each. I’m making dinner,” I answered, trying not to laugh. Somehow, I thought laughing was a bad thing.
As I threw the chopped herbs, vegetables, and seasoning into the pan, which Finn kindly grabbed for me, a hurricane flew into the kitchen.
Brax made me stagger as he hugged me and stared adoringly at me.
“My Kenny,” he sighed, and my heart melted.
“Hi, Brax,” I replied, stroking his head.
Brax’s eyes closed, and when they opened, there were tears present.
I stiffened, alarmed.
“Dad washed my mouth out with soap for swearing,” Brax whimpered.
Oh no! The one thing you never did was get between a parent disciplining a child. I glanced at Rooster and saw him looking amused as he entered the kitchen.
“Don’t fall for it,” Rooster warned. “They’re aware of the consequences of swearing, especially in front of a woman. When they’re sixteen, sure, do what they want; until then, they’ll show respect in my household. And you two, I told you no and to get fruit if you were as starving as you claimed. Put that mess away.”
Kit and Finn scowled at their father, and I was shocked at how alike they all were.
“I could have got dinner on,” Rooster said, approaching me and sniffing.
“I don’t mind,” I murmured.
Rooster yelped, and I looked down and saw Brax looking angelic.
“That’s my fu… Kenny!” the boy stated.
“Pinch me again, brat, and I’ll return the favour. Go sit your sorry ass down!” Rooster ordered.
“I hate baths,” Brax snarled.
“Oh, I can’t be your Kenny then. I only like clean boys, and I love baths,” I added, trying to help Rooster out.
Brax looked appalled, and then his shoulders slumped, and a hangdog expression crossed his face. “I’ll bath for you.”
Rooster’s jaw dropped open, and he faced me. “What can I pay you to stay?”
I laughed as Kit and Finn finished tidying up, and I kept turning the food to stop it from burning. When I turned, all four males gazed at me in something akin to wonder.
“Who usually cooks?” I asked, feeling self-conscious .
“Dad, or we eat at one of the aunts. They pass us around a lot. We’re a handful,” Brax replied.
“How old are you?” Was my next question.
“I’m ten, Finn is nine, and Brax is eight,” Kit answered.
“And Troy is?” I recalled the other name they mentioned.
“Our cousin. Troy’s father is Banshee, who is Dad’s brother. He’s eleven and thinks he can boss us around, but we have more ideas than he does. Troy can be lame sometimes. He’s always up for…” Kit stated, and Rooster raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, he’s always up to trouble with us three. Our uncles call us kids the Holy Terrors,” Kit admitted.
“The Holy Terrors?” I repeated.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Rooster added. “Look it up in the dictionary. The word holy means to be dedicated to a religion. These little fuckers are dedicated to the religion of causing terror, mayhem, and chaos. Clio named them the Holy Terrors, and it stuck.”
“Okay,” I murmured and turned back and began adding the fresh noodles I’d found.
“Jesse, the eldest of the kids, is seventeen and too old for their antics. Then there’s these four. After them, the closest in age is Louisa Mae, Chance and Clio’s little girl; she’s two, and the rest are babies,” Rooster elaborated.
“Okay,” I replied, wondering why Rooster was explaining all this.
“Boys, go lay the table,” Rooster ordered, and the kids disappeared in a whirlwind .
“What’s going on? Why am I here? Why didn’t you take me home?” I erupted as soon as the kids were gone.
“Calm down. Kenny, I’ll explain once they’re all in bed. Nothing nefarious is happening, honey. Let’s just enjoy a nice meal. I can’t remember when a woman cooked for me, who wasn’t family,” Rooster replied.
“That long?” I asked. “Not even their mom?”
Rooster pursed his lips. “No.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I said.
“And Sadie never met them. I didn’t allow her around them,” he continued.
I frowned before I knew I was doing it. Wasn’t Sadie pregnant with Rooster’s baby?
“Confused? Don’t blame you, I am too. Sadie latched on to me in physiotherapy. She had hurt her shoulder and was attending sessions to heal. At first, Sadie appeared kind and caring, but Chance told me to be careful, said she wasn’t ringing true. My gut had already warned me to wrap up using my own stock. Too many women stick pins in their own to trap a guy.
“Sadie somehow still got her hands on mine and got pregnant. Then told me she didn’t plan to be tied to a cripple and only wanted money. Sadie’s plans were to stay at home, and I’d fund her lifestyle. Only she jumped the gun. Due to my injury, Chance had been paying me disability, and the rest of my cash went into an account owned by him. Chance gave me the card, and I spent what I needed .
“Of course this meant to Sadie I had money. Boy, was Sadie pissed when she discovered I didn’t, thanks to Chance being a sneaky fuck. I’ve had to declare my earnings, and basically, all that shows is basic disability payments. Now, Sadie’s threatening to hold the baby over my head. If I don’t pay her way in life, then I won’t see the kid.”
“Wow,” I said, shocked.
“But you are right, Kenny. It doesn’t matter if the kid is mine or not. I can’t leave him or her with Sadie. She’ll wreck it. Hellfire is digging deep and turning up whatever evidence we can find to take Sadie to court and for me to get custody of the baby. In Hellfire, it doesn’t matter if you’re blood-related. If we consider a kid ours, it’s ours. End of story,” Rooster said earnestly.
“That’s something very special, to think and act like that,” I murmured as I stirred the contents in the pan again. Damn. Rooster kept showing his sweet side, and I was starting to feel more than I should.
Even now, at home, where Rooster should be relaxed, I could still sense his barriers firmly in place. Sadie had done such a number on him. I hated her on the mere principle of it.
“Plates?” I asked, and Rooster came up close behind me and reached up next to me. Shit, the heat radiating off his body affected mine, and I couldn’t stop the shiver running through me. Rooster paused and glanced down, a question in his eyes. I thanked my skin that my blush wasn’t as bright as it would have been on a paler tone .
Knowledge flared in Rooster’s expression, and then it blanked as he pulled five plates from the cupboard above my head. Rooster’s spicy scent wafted towards me, and I subconsciously leaned into him.
Rooster stiffened, and I pulled back.
“Do the boys eat a lot?” I asked, feeling embarrassed. After what I just thought, and then I did that. Shit. I was awful.
“They’re males, Kenny, they’ll lick the plates clean,” Rooster said.
I glanced in panic at the pan. It was full to overflowing, but had I cooked enough?
“Don’t stress it. There’s plenty, and I always have a pasta salad; they have that with everything, even stir fry,” Rooster added, opening the refrigerator door.
Feet skidded, and Kit poked his head around the fridge. He held out his hands, grabbed the pasta bowl, and disappeared. Then he reappeared and filled a jug up with ice water. Rooster waited, and then Brax appeared next and took a jug of fruit juice and finally Finn, who took away a crusty loaf of bread and butter.
“Bread and butter with stir fry?” I asked, confused.
“Easy trick with three growing boys. Give them a good dinner but fill them up on bread and butter. It’s a cheap tactic, but it sure as hell cuts down on food bills,” Rooster replied with a smile. As I served the plates, the kids reappeared and took theirs and scuttled away. Rooster carried mine and his into a spacious, bright dining room, and I was surprised to see all the boys waiting patiently.
“They don’t like it?” I whispered to Rooster as he put my plate down and pulled out a chair.
“No, they know to wait for the lady to be seated. It’s rude to dig in when either the person who cooked it isn’t present, or the women aren’t sat. They may be Terrors, but they will have manners,” Rooster said firmly.
As soon as I was seated, Kit grabbed the bread and began cutting thick wedges off. Finn buttered them, and Brax dug in.
Rooster poured everyone a glass of water and then offered fruit juice to people. I was surprised to see the boys had set the table up properly and had included spoons and two glasses to drink from.
“They aren’t allowed fizzy shit at mealtimes,” Rooster explained. “It falsely fills them up, and then they’re hungry half an hour later. They’ll eat healthily and be better for it.”
“You’re a good dad,” I said, and Rooster pinked a little.
“Try to be. Apart from my brothers, I’m all they have. And while they have not had a mom, they’ve had Tati, and it’s not worth messing with her. Tati won’t have kids being rude around her, she’ll handle uncouthness but not ill manners or rudeness,” Rooster explained.
“Tati is Big Al’s wife?” I asked, wracking my brain.
“Yes. Tati looked after the boys a lot until they started school and was their mother figure, really,” Rooster answered .
“Our real mom was a drug addict and didn’t take care of us,” Kit explained, holding my gaze.
I wasn’t sure if Kit said it for the shock factor or what, but if he had, Kit had achieved his goal.
“Sorry to hear that,” I replied.
Kit held my stare. “Don’t be. We’re better off without her. Drugs ruin lives, and despite her, ours has been freaking perfect,” Kit replied with a glance at his dad for reassurance.
“I’ve never held back on what happened with their mother. The truth is important, and they need to be aware of the danger of drugs. So many teens assume drugs are great fun, my boys know better. They know drugs cost them a mom, and they know it killed her. Many state I’m wrong to expose the kids at such an early age. However, I’d rather them be aware than be dead,” Rooster explained, with a hint of defence in his tone.
“I agree,” I said with a nod. “If only some of my client’s abusive partners understood that or had been taught that. Drink and drugs lead to the breakup of so many families, and the children are often caught in the middle between two warring parents. Worse, the addict abuses the kids. I don’t think you’ve done wrong in opening their eyes to the danger. All three seem happy and loved and have a good head on their shoulders,” I said, smiling.
I watched as Brax took another piece of bread and wiped up the juices from the stir fry. Brax patted his stomach, and I smiled. Rooster had done an excellent job raising the kids. Their manners were impressive. They’d finished before Rooster and me but waited patiently for us to finish our meal.
“Clear the table, load the dishwasher, and bring in the fruit salad,” Rooster said.
“Coffee Dad?” Kit asked, pausing.
“Kenny?” Rooster inquired.
“Yes, I’d love one, let me make it,” I replied, unsure of an eleven-year-old boy near boiling things.
“Kit can make it, he does a mean vanilla mocha,” Rooster drawled, amused, as Kit shot off. Finn and Brax swapped scowls but continued to clear the table.
“Did we start something?” I asked.
“No. Once they turn ten, then they can make hot drinks and shit. Until then, they’re going to have to be patient,” Rooster answered.
“They are seriously good boys, it’s obvious how much they love and respect you,” I said as Finn and Brax left the dining room.
“I’m a biker, Kenny. A brother in Hellfire. That’s my life, but it doesn’t mean what people assume it means. We don’t have to be ill-mannered and uneducated, which is what everyone thinks when they think of MCs. Some of the most intelligent men I know belong to an MC.
“Individuals look down upon us, their impression already made. Illiterate, no schooling, crude, rude, a drain on society, up to our necks in illegal activities, and we’d fuck anything with a pussy, that’s what they believe. And let’s not forget the fact we all have criminal records. The opposite is true. None of Hellfire has a record, might have been arrested, but we’ve never been charged.
“Hellfire runs some big businesses around here and employs a lot of people. For a time, Hellfire was dirty, not gonna sugarcoat our past, but those here today saw a future where we could be clean. And we broke our back for that. We earned shit the hard way and will continue to protect it no matter what.
“Those outside the club, they want to disrespect us? So be it. We ain’t gotta respect them either. That’s what they forget. Everyone’s forgotten to treat people how you wanna be treated. No, now its dog eats dog. Who can get the upper hand? Greed is the currency most people talk, and trolling is normal. The internet was a great invention but also one of mankind’s biggest failures.
“It allows those keyboard warriors who’d never say anything to our faces to put us down with the touch of a button. Gives them a screen to hide behind to spread rumours and destroy people. They’ve tried it with us, and we’ve ignored it and carried on. Hellfire believes what we do speaks for us in our town. We’re known for being clean here.
“In another part of the state? Hell, if a cop looked up the gossip, he’d have cuffs on us before we could blink. The hearsay would have us locked up and the key thrown away. In a decade, I don’t want people to fear my sons. I want them to accept the boys chose a different way of life and are happy but law-abiding, tax-paying people.” Rooster sighed. “Damn, I went off on a tangent.”
“No, I get it. Look at me. A woman working in law, and not only that, but I am also highly successful. Strike one, I’m a woman, strike two, I’m black, and strike three, I’m taking a man’s job until I do my real one and spit out babies. Those attitudes still exist in courts today, and I come across them when white men in suits talk down to me like I’m stupid. They change their attitude when I kick their ass from one end of the courtroom to the next,” I said, smirking.
“Racism is still prevalent in law systems?” Rooster asked and sounded surprised.
“Very much so. There’s a mentality there, a good thirty – forty per cent, that believe only privileged, educated, rich men should practise law. They envy women being successful because it threatens their ego. They hate black women even more because it means that we challenge their white supremacy,” I stated.
“That is shit.”
“That’s life, Rooster, and the burdens we chose when we picked our lifestyles. You knew what you’d get as a biker, and I understood the judgement and condescending attitude waiting for me as an attorney. But here we both are, saying fuck you to those who’d bring us down and fighting the good fight,” I said.
“I hate fuckin’ racism. Yeah, I know it exists, but I loathe it. Strip away skin, and we’re all the damn same underneath,” Rooster complained.
“Luckily, I am surrounded by people who care and like me. Racism exists for me, but only in small doses. I’ve never experienced it outright, and that I’m grateful for. Truthfully, the sexism bothers me more. Women can do any job a man can, but we’re classed as the weaker sex. Women are still second-class citizens. And there’s a good percentage of the male population who’d love nothing more than to see us back in the kitchen raising children.
“Hell, a male colleague of mine at my last firm, I got promoted above him, got the corner office, and so on. Asshole made a comment for me to enjoy it because once I started popping out babies, I clearly wouldn’t be working. The look on his face when I told him I’d pop out the kids, but the fuck I’d stay home with them. Either my husband would or a nanny would be employed. The idiot had no idea how to answer,” I ended with a laugh.
“I can imagine.” Rooster chuckled.
The boys barrelled back in, and we ate the fruit salad and whipped cream they brought with them. Kit’s vanilla mocha was excellent, just as Rooster had said.
After dinner, the boys scampered off to do whatever kids did, and Rooster led me out onto his decking, which overlooked the land. As he settled me in a chair, I was surprised when Kit brought out two more coffees and then disappeared.
“You have a beautiful home, Roo,” I said.
“It’s new. We lived in town before, but after the explosion, Hellfire bought this, and we decided to build here. There’s plenty of room for a hundred houses should our kids wish to build, too.”
“You’d like that,” I surmised.
“Fuck yes. Have my children and their families next door or down the road, a thirty-second walk. Sure as hell would love that, but I’d never push them into it. Plus, they may not wish to be bikers and live here.”
“You want them to join Hellfire, though?”
“Yeah, Kenny, they’re my legacy.”
I understood legacies from Rage, so I knew what Rooster meant when he said that.
“Tell me why I woke up in an unfamiliar bed and what’s happening?” I asked.
“You were out for the count, and to be honest, you were fucked. You haven’t been taking care of yourself, and Chance told me what happened the other day. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Surprised, I looked at Rooster. “Why would I?”
“You got something going on with Inglorious?” Rooster snapped, and I heard a hint of jealousy in his voice. Well, that was interesting. Maybe Rooster wasn’t as immune to me as he made out.
“No. Inglorious recognised Blue, and we got speaking and had lunch together. That’s all. Then he pulled me out of the car’s path.”
Rooster looked mollified, but his next words chilled me to the bone. “Someone is trying to kill you, Kenny. And we need to find out who.”