Chapter 18 #2
Beth shakes her head. Her hair is mostly gray now, lank and greasy. I do remember that she used to have a curvy figure, but she’s stick thin. Her clothes hang on her. “I have nowhere else to go. I never have.”
Esme told me once that her mom got pregnant with her when she was seventeen.
Beth’s parents kicked her out, and Mason tried to do right by her by getting married.
It might have been some version of okay if he hadn’t fallen into working blue collar jobs.
Not that it was the job. He took honest work and there wasn’t anything wrong with that, but he’d go out with the guys after, instead of going home.
Esme has very few memories of her father being even halfway sober.
Esme was thankful that her parents at least tried, but creating a loveless environment didn’t make for a lot of happiness or safety either.
I’ve spent enough years with the club, seen enough and heard enough, that I’m not judging.
I’m fucking not. I’ve seen men who thought they were long past redemption turn it around and make lives they can be proud of.
I’ve watched men who thought they were too far gone for love, find good women who have proved them wrong.
I know that anything can be changed. Life can be salvaged. I truly believe that.
I don’t think coming here was a mistake, but I also didn’t see Esme begging her mom to leave with us. I would never have brought the bike.
I can get us a ride. Under the table, I dig my phone out of my pocket and send a quick SOS off to Tyrant and Raiden, asking for a vehicle with at least two free seats, and I give them the address.
“Come with me,” Esme repeats.
Mason might be a mean son of a bitch, but all he does is vibrate in his seat and turn red. He’s containing himself for now. It could be shock, that after all these years, Beth might actually walk away from him. Whatever it is, I don’t have to restrain him for the moment.
“We’ll find you somewhere to live.” Esme urges. “I’ll help you get a job. I’ll even help you take some classes. You do have options. Please. Come.”
Her mother drops her eyes, the epitome of a broken woman.
You can’t save someone who doesn’t want it.
I know that, but I can’t leave her here to face her husband’s rage alone.
It might currently be in the danger zone, but as soon as we leave, that nuclear meltdown is sure to happen.
I want Beth as far out of range of that as possible.
She needs to leave with us, even if it’s only for a few hours or a day while Mason calms down.
I’d rather he shatter every object in this house than break bones.
“We should leave,” I tell Esme. “And your mom’s coming with us, even if I have to carry her out of here screaming and protesting.”
I shove my chair back and put myself between Esme and her father.
Was this what it was like for her growing up?
The fear, the constant worry, doing everything possible not to set him off?
No wonder she kept her head down and tried to be invisible.
I never fully saw her relax, not unless we were at my grandpa’s place.
It was her safe zone. He was the one adult that she could trust.
Esme stands too. She walks over to her mother and sets her hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go. Even just for a little bit. Come on.”
I expect heavy resistance from Mason, shouts of she’s going nowhere, or that’s my fucking wife, but there’s nothing. Only a caustic silence that radiates through the house, unnatural and deadly. It makes my stomach churn. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
What some bullies need is to be laid out cold, but that’s not the case here.
I don’t know what this man needs. I’m not an expert.
We have a therapist the club uses who specializes in trauma.
Maybe that’s more this man’s style. I can’t make the offer right now.
That would topple the house of fucking cards that this place is, but maybe one day, he’ll take me up on it.
Esme practically yanks Beth out of the chair and steers her to the doorway. She pauses and turns. I’m still blocking the path between her and Mason. I’ve repositioned myself to put my body in harm’s way, so she doesn’t have to be.
“Dad? You need to know that I always wanted to love you. You and Mom both. I hope that means something, or at least, that it could one day.”
We get outside with a shockingly small amount of drama. Nothing shatters or crashes behind us. Esme’s never said anything about her dad owning guns, but I’m getting us out of range of the house just in case.
Esme steers Beth down the driveway. I walk right behind them, offering myself as a human shield.
“Your bike!” Esme hisses, her eyes wide and glistening.
“I’ll be fine.” I need them both to keep walking. “I’ll come back for it.” Even if Mason comes out and destroys it with a crowbar or a baseball bat, I’m not turning around for it until Esme and Beth are safe.
Ten minutes later, a sleek, gray sedan comes whipping around the corner and pulls over right in front of us. Ella is behind the wheel.
“Hey! Raiden called me. I wasn’t far, and he knew that. Is… is that okay?”
“Of course!” I’m so relieved that I barely even trust myself to speak.
I’m not sure if Ella was out doing errands, but she’s not dressed like she was teaching.
It’s summer, but she has a few classes that she’s contracted for at the community college right through until her full courseload starts up again in the fall.
She usually wears something business inspired to work.
She’s rocking a real leather jacket, a tight black dress, ripped up stockings, and ankle boots.
Her blonde hair is up in a high ponytail.
“Hey.” She offers her hand to Esme, who hangs back on the sidewalk, glancing from me to Ella. Right. She has no idea that I called for backup, but she figures that out fast. “I’m Ella, Raiden’s wife. Uh, the club’s VP.”
“Oh. Right. Thank you for coming.” Esme juggles her mom in one arm and frees her hand to shake Ella’s.
Ella is gentle. She seems to sense just how fragile Beth is. She’s clinging to Esme like she might actually pass out.
“I called for a ride,” I explain, needlessly. “Will you go with Ella? She’ll find you somewhere to stay for the night. Both of you, together, if you want.”
“You could come to our house,” Ella offers. “We have a massive spare room.”
Fucking bless this woman. Bless her for truly believing in what the club means.
In generosity, in kindness, in holding each other up when we most need it.
Not just each other, but our families and friends too.
Ella doesn’t know Esme or Beth from a hole in the ground.
Well, she might know that Esme got caught in my brother’s gambling debts and that the club just paid out a massive amount to keep James alive.
That’s not a great start, but here she is, offering her car, her house, and her friendship.
It speaks volumes as to how strong the sisterhood is between our women.
“That would be wonderful.” Esme gets her arm under Beth, holding her tighter. I move to support her, but Esme shakes her head. She’s got this. She’s got her mom.
My heart swells so big that my chest is far too small to contain it.
To say that I’m so proud of this woman is a massive understatement.
Some people might see me as the one who should be hurt, a victim of Esme not noticing or caring, but that’s not how this went down.
She always cared. So fucking much. But there was a limit to how much she could give and still be able to survive.
She was locked into barely staying afloat herself, but within just a few weeks, she totally changed her life.
She sold her house, quit her job, ended her unhappy relationship.
The past few days have been incredibly difficult and charged so emotionally that I’m not sure how either of us are still on our feet, but she is.
She is, and she’s going to get her mom back on hers.
Esme’s always been all heart. Grandpa knew it. I knew it. I hope that one day, she’ll be able to see it for herself.
“Will you come later?” Esme asks. “I know you have to get your bike and check in at the club. If there’s no one to cover for you, that’s okay. I’ll call you?”
Facing down her parents, even going to their house, is a lot.
A. Fucking. Lot. She’s done something unthinkably brave, but here she is, worrying about me.
This is love. This is care. This is what she gave me for years and years.
I might have had to wait a long time for her heart to change its mind, or realize that its home was with me, but there’s no question that Esme has always loved me and supported me with the purest friendship.
When she brings up our memories, they sound one sided. She only remembers the times I gave her advice, or sat with her, or was there for her. She’s been there for me just as often.
Esme helps Beth into the backseat, then climbs in behind her.
I watch, through the open door, as she glides the seatbelt over her shellshocked mother.
I want to kiss Esme, but I don’t want to do anything that will unsettle Beth any further.
Instead, I grasp her knee and squeeze. Her hand covers mine immediately.
She holds tight to me like she never wants to let go.
Ella circles around, trailing after me from a distance to make sure that I get back to my bike.
It’s sitting untouched in the driveway, exactly as I left it.
I still feel, when I mount it and kick it into that familiar, thundering roar, that I’m going to catch something between my shoulder blades or in the back of my head, but there’s nothing.
Not even so much as a flash of movement from the windows.