Chapter Eleven - Chapter Ten
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Chapter Ten
“WHY ARE YOU whistling so fucking early in the morning?” Player growled beside me, both of us reaching for coffee.
I shrugged, giving him a smile. “Just have a feeling it’s going to be a good day. Why is your grumpy ass up so early?”
He pointed over to where Randi was chatting with Scotch. “Ol’ lady has plans today,” he said, grabbing his coffee and heading over to join them. Randi was almost finished setting up her recovery house. She’d been so busy with it that I hardly saw her around. They were such an odd match, those two, but Player would kill anyone who tried to take her away from him.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the number before groaning internally. Not today. “Yeah,” I answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
“Mom needs some things, and I can’t make it over there today,” my sister informed me. Trish was a few years older, and we took turns checking on our alcoholic mom. She had always been a drinker, but when Dad died of a heart attack in the arms of a sweet butt, it sent her over the edge. She lost her driver’s license years ago, and we took the car away to stop her from driving drunk.
“Are you sure you can’t go over?” I asked, not wanting Mom to ruin my vibe today.
“I’ve done it the last three times, Jarrod,” she snapped, the frustration clear in her voice. “I have to work today and then take the kids to practice after school. We agreed to share this responsibility.”
“Fine, text me what she needs,” I conceded, knowing I had been shirking my part.
“Thanks, Jarrod,” she replied, sounding relieved. “Stop by. It’s been a while.”
“I will,” I said, hanging up, downing my coffee, and heading outside. I straddled my bike and headed to Walmart to get what she needed. Unsurprisingly, I had to make a stop at the liquor store. If we didn’t bring it to her, she would try to go get it herself, which always ended in trouble.
With everything in my saddlebags, I pulled up in front of my childhood home, the sight of it hitting me with a punch of nostalgia, like always. Nothing ever changed. The grass was still overgrown, the roof and paint job in desperate need of attention. Trish and I had talked about fixing up the house but decided against it. Knowing Mom, she would accidentally burn the place down. We did just enough to keep it decent and safe, though she noticed nothing aside from her Jack and the TV.
Like I said, nothing ever fucking changes.
I took off my cut and placed it in my saddlebag. The sight of it would trigger my mom into a panic attack with the memories it brought. Taking the key out of my pocket, I unlocked the door and went inside, calling out, “Mom, it’s Jarrod.” The smell wasn’t too bad today. Trish must have cleaned recently. I went into the kitchen, placed the bags on the counter, and started putting stuff away.
“You got everything?” Mom asked, shuffling into the kitchen and going straight for the bottle of Jack Daniels.
I looked at her, noting her stringy blonde hair, dead eyes, and thin body. It was hard to remember the pretty lady she had been before alcohol took over her life. When I was little, she was always so happy, a great mom, until she realized who she had married—a biker who had no intention of being the faithful family man. He broke her, and the sad part was I was following in his footsteps, wanting to be just like my old man until that morning we found Kezia.
“How ya been, Jarrod?” she asked, already pouring a finger.
“Getting by,” I replied, closing the refrigerator. “How about you? Thought anymore about rehab?” I already knew the answer but still asked, hoping she would finally wake up and see this isn’t a life.
“Hell no,” she snapped, taking her glass and shuffling back into the living room.
I followed and leaned on the wall, watching her as she settled back onto the couch, her eyes glued to one of the talk shows she liked to watch. “When was the last time you went outside?” I pressed.
“Nothing out there I need to see,” she replied, still staring at the TV. “I have all I need inside this house.”
I sighed, pushing away from the wall. “Do you need anything done before I leave?”
“No, Danny took care of fixing things last week.” Danny was Trish’s husband, the kind of husband Mom wished Dad could have been. Family man through and through. She thought more of Danny than me. I looked like my dad, and sometimes I think she resented me for it.
“I’m heading out then,” I said, moving towards the door. “I’ll stop by and check on you in a few days.”
“Sure, you will, Jarrod. Just like your dad, always lying,” she murmured. I knew she didn’t mean for me to hear it, but I did.
I stopped and almost turned around to defend myself, but instead pushed through the door and outside. Mom didn’t understand how fucking depressing it was coming here and dealing with a drunk.
Dad hadn’t been much, but he was the only parent we had to count on once she started drinking. He loved us in his own way, making sure we had what we needed at home, a little money in our pocket, and he’d kill anyone that messed with his kids.
In all the years growing up, I couldn’t figure out why she just didn’t divorce him. It wasn’t like he would have fought it. It would have made all our lives easier if she had made better decisions. I put my cut back on and straddled my bike, my spirits lifting at the thought of taking Madeline out today. This was a big step for me, but I felt ready to take it.
I PLACED ELLIE on the floor with her toys and sat on the couch , glancing over at Dad. “I’m going out for a few hours today,” I began, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as I prepared to tell him about my date. At twenty-three, I felt silly for being so anxious. “Do you mind watching Ellie?”
“Of course I don’t,” he replied, smiling warmly. “Where are you off to?”
“I have a date,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s taking me on a motorcycle ride.”
Dad’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s not what I expected. Who is this man who finally convinced my daughter to live a little?”
“His name is Jarrod Warner. We knew each other in high school and reconnected recently,” I explained, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.
Dad thought for a moment before nodding. “Name doesn’t ring a bell, but I suppose it doesn’t need to. I’ll meet him when he picks you up.”
Of course, Dad wouldn’t let me leave until he met Jarrod. “I’m going to get ready. He’ll be here at one,” I said, hurrying to my bedroom to shower and change. The excitement coursing through me was almost overwhelming, like I was a teenager on her first date. But this felt different.
Jarrod was different.
I rifled through my closet, settling on jeans, t-shirt, and jacket, perfect for a motorcycle ride. I didn’t bother with my hair; the wind and helmet would render any effort pointless. In high school, Jarrod would ride his motorcycle to school and sometimes Kezia would be on the back, and I envied her so much, wishing it were me.
Back in the living room, I paced nervously, my eyes darting to the window every few seconds. “You really like this man?” Dad asked, watching me closely.
“I do,” I replied, the honesty in my voice surprising even me. “And I feel ridiculous for being so nervous.”
“It’s not ridiculous, Madeline,” he reassured me. “Just remember, he’s the lucky one to be going out with you.”
“You’re my dad, you have to say that,” I chuckled, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
“I want a kiss too!” Ellie demanded, tugging at my leg.
I scooped her up, peppering her belly with kisses until she giggled uncontrollably. Then, I handed her to Dad as the roar of a motorcycle sounded outside. My heart leaped into my throat. Jarrod was here. Taking a deep breath, I smoothed down my hair and stood, waiting for the doorbell to ring.
The doorbell chimed, a clear and precise sound that sent a jolt through me. Dad raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that mixed curiosity and protective instinct. I moved to the door, my palms damp with nervous sweat. Opening it, I was greeted by the sight of Jarrod, looking ruggedly handsome as always and wearing that confident smile.
“Hey, Madeline,” he greeted, his voice warm and steady. “Ready for our ride?”
“Yeah, just a sec.” I turned to Dad, who was wheeling his way toward us with Ellie still on his lap.
“Jarrod, this is my dad, Chris, and daughter Ellie,” I introduced them, my voice trembling slightly. “Dad, this is Jarrod Warner.” I wasn’t sure how he would react to my dad being in a wheelchair. Everyone was different.
Jarrod extended his hand, his grip firm and respectful. “Nice to meet you, sir, and you miss Ellie,” he said, tapping her nose and making her giggle.
Dad eyed him for a moment before shaking his hand, his eyes running over his cut. I probably should have mentioned he belongs to a motorcycle club. “Nice to meet you too, Jarrod. Where are you two headed today?”
“Coopers Rock,” Jarrod informed him. “It’s a nice ride this time of year.”
Dad gave a nod, seemingly satisfied. “Alright then, have a good time. And Madeline, don’t worry about Ellie. We’ll be just fine.”
I smiled, feeling a mix of relief that he didn’t question Jarrod further. “Thanks, Dad.” I kissed him and Ellie goodbye before turning to leave.
I stepped outside with Jarrod, the warm fall breeze immediately whipping through my hair. He handed me a helmet, his eyes meeting mine with a reassuring glint. “Ready?”
“I hope so. I’ve never ridden before,” I said, my nerves fading slightly as I put on the helmet. Jarrod helped me onto the bike, his touch gentle yet confident.
“Just hold on tight and lean when I do,” he instructed with a grin. “The tighter the better,” he chuckled.
As the engine roared to life beneath us, I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling a thrill of excitement. We sped off down the street; the wind rushing past us and the city blurring into a tapestry of colors and sounds. I felt free, exhilarated, and for the first time in a long time, completely alive, holding onto the one man I had wanted for so long.