Chapter 15 #2
“Nobody comes in here and disrespects my family, nobody. Get out before I have you removed.”
“Go fuck yourself, Chief. You’ll regret this.”
Then, she turns and storms out, slamming the door so loudly the items on the desk rattle.
Chief turns, without a word, and pulls me into a hug, the tightest I’ve ever felt from him. For that second, I’m five years old and building forts with him, laughing as he tells me a joke. For that second, nothing hurts at all.
Chief’s voice is warm. “You okay, baby?”
I swallow, nodding. “I hate her, Dad.”
“I know. She’s gone. Never should have kept her around this long.”
I pull back, swiping a lone tear from my cheek. “Let’s talk about Mom.”
He nods. “Yeah, let’s.”
Later that night, we sit around a bonfire.
I drink cheap beer and listen to Travis on the guitar, his voice raw and beautiful, the firelight flicking on his face as he gets lost in his own little world.
Chief watches, his expression blank, arms crossed, never more than a foot away from me.
I can see the pride in his eyes, though, even if he won’t admit it. He looks at Travis with respect.
When we are ready for our next beer, Travis and I make our way out to his truck, sitting on the back, looking up at the moon that has finally come out from under the grey clouds. With a beer in hand, Travis pulls me closer to him. “That was a fuckin’ hectic day.”
“Yeah,” I laugh, softly.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nah, I think I’m good now.” I lean into him, breathing in the scent of his cologne, mixed with the smell of fire. Sharp, edgy, and fucking delicious.
He taps his chin on my head, feigning thought. “Wanna split a bag of Doritos and make out?”
I elbow him. “God, at least get me drunk first.”
He laughs. “Well, fuck, drink up then.”
Bill walks over, smoke between his lips, stopping at where we are sitting. “You did good today, kid. ‘Bout time someone got that bitch out.”
I laugh. “Thanks.”
He sets a hand on my shoulder, rough and surprisingly gentle. “You know, sometimes the only thing you can do is outlast the storm.”
“You know, I think you’re right.”
He chuckles. “Always right, darlin’.”
I look over at the bonfire, at the men who raised me, the old ladies who taught me to cook, the shadows of the past that cast ten feet high on the fence. I close my eyes and let it all in, the violence, the love, the threat and the promise, bound together.
I’m not my mother.
I’m not my father.
I am the best of both, and that’s exactly what I want to be.
I’M SITTING AT THE long, battered table in the club’s back room the next night, a half-eaten piece of garlic bread in one hand and laughter bubbling up every few seconds.
The air is thick with the smell of sautéed onions, sweet tomato sauce, and the faint tang of beer.
Around me, the other club members are teasing each other, passing a huge bowl of spaghetti back and forth and trading stories about near-misses and angry cops.
To me, this place is home. The clatter of plates, the low rumble of voices, the way everyone looks out for each other.
I lift my piece of bread and sink my teeth into it, the garlic and butter and crust all mixing in perfect, greasy harmony.
I laugh at something Tate just said about nearly getting run off the road by some asshole with a badge, and then I hear Chief’s gruff voice.
“Stop chewing like an animal, Mischief!”
He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and even though his expression is firm, I can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. I chew deliberately slow then, letting the garlic drip down my chin. “Still mad because I scared off your booty call?” I grin at him, giving my best cocky look.
Chief’s eyebrows shoot up. “Careful, girly.”
I roll my eyes theatrically and pick up a stray strand of spaghetti, slurping it into my mouth. Travis, smothering a chuckle, nudges me in the ribs. “Enough.”
We fall back into the chatter around the table.
The night drags on, and finally we break off, each to our own corners of the compound.
I am staying here tonight, but Travis is going home.
He said it’s important I stick to my weekends with Chief, for a while at least. I agree with him, so I make my way up to my room, with its bright pink walls and memories in every corner.
I lie there in the dim glow of the single hanging bulb, absently tracing the initials I carved into the wooden headboard years ago: “V + T.” I miss Mom with a constant ache, I hate not being able to see her.
I worry about Jeremy out there, and I know that soon, I’m going to have to face him.
I twist onto my side, then flop onto my back. Nothing helps.
I pull on my hoodie and pad barefoot down the creaky stairs, each step a reminder of how quiet this place can get when everyone is asleep.
At the bottom, I step outside onto the porch.
The night air is cool, heavy with crickets and the faint smell of gasoline.
There’s Chief, sitting on the porch rail, a cigarette glowing between his fingers.
I slip onto the rail beside him. He glances at me, but doesn’t turn all the way.
“You beat me here,” I say softly. “This is my thinking spot.”
He chuckles. “Not anymore, kid.”
A small laugh.
He inhales deeply, smoke curling upward. “Why are you out here all by yourself?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I admit. “Got too much on my mind.”
“Because of your momma?” His voice catches on her name.
I nod, though he can’t see me. “I miss her. I worry about Jeremy. And I hate what happened between us...”
He flicks ash onto the ground. I scoot closer, our shoulders touching. “Don’t worry a single second about what happened with us, kid. It’s done. As for your momma, I get that. I can’t get her face out of my head.”
I lean my head on his shoulder. He smells like leather, tobacco, and something else—something that’s always made me feel safe. “Why not?”
His voice is low. “Because I keep seeing the way she looked when...when I got there. Fuckin’ killed me seeing her like that.”
My eyes burn. “Can you tell me more about the two of you? Please.”
He shifts and I turn my body slightly, so I can see him.
“I loved her from the first fuckin’ day I laid eyes on her. She had this fire in her eyes, like she was daring the whole world to push her around. She was so fuckin’ strong, brave, beautiful. There hasn’t been another soul like her, until you.”
I laugh. “Well, that can’t be good for the world.”
He chuckles. “It’s exactly the kind of thing the world needs.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Do you ever wish you had other kids?” The words come out quietly, gently.
He flinches, like I struck a chord he’d buried deep. I swallow. “Dad?”
He shakes his head, dismissing the thought. “No, I got my girl. You know you’re my number one girl, don’t ya?”
I nudge his shoulder with mine. “I know. You tell me every year.”
He chuckles, a rough sound in the night. “You scare the shit out of me, Mischief. You’re too much like me. Good thing you got so much of her in you, because if you didn’t, I’d have to lock you down and throw away the key.”
“What does Demon want from you?”
He’s silent for a long moment. Then he says, “Long story. But I will never let him get you, or her.”
“I know.”
“You know when you were born, you wrapped your little finger around mine the minute I met you, and you didn’t let it go for so fuckin’ long I was the one who held you until you went to sleep.
When your momma told me she was pregnant, I was scared out of my mind.
I was young, fuckin’ wild, barely had a clue what I was doing.
Then I saw you...” He swallows. “You gave my life meaning. You still are my meaning.”
“I love you, Dad, and I know you think Travis will hurt me, but he loves me. I wish you could see how much.”
He glances at me. “Think I don’t know that? The boy has been in love with you forever.”
“You noticed?”
He snorts. “Course I did. I just figured you two would grow out of it. When he left, I thought it was for the best—gave you room to find yourself. I heard you the night you found out he was gone, with no goodbye. You wonder why I’m scared about him hurtin’ you but it’s because I heard the way you cried when he left. It fuckin’ broke my heart.”
I freeze. “You heard that?”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ did. Killed me. I knew how that felt. When he came back, I thought you had moved on enough. Should have known you hadn’t...”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s done, kid. Now go get some sleep. You don’t need to be sitting out here with me all night.”
I rest my head against his shoulder again. “I have missed you.”
He slides his arm around me and pulls me close. “Me too, Mischief. Every damned day.”
We sit there in the hush of the night, two silhouettes on a porch rail, father and daughter bound by love, loss, and the fierce promise that nothing will ever break us apart.
I hope that never changes.