CHAPTER 4 #2
I chuckle under my breath and try to get myself pumped up enough to say the words out loud. To a ten-year-old little girl of all people.
“I never knew my mom,” I start, my words halting and almost discordant. “I’ve heard stories about her. She was like Lola. At least, when I met Lola that’s what I thought. She reminded me of the stories about my mom.”
A look of understanding crosses Vanessa’s face, one someone so young should not be able to make. But she does. She reaches out and gives my arm a squeeze as if to let me know I don’t have to say anything else.
I won’t. Not because the words wouldn’t be true but because I’m not entirely sure where the line is between sharing and way too fucking much oversharing is in this situation. I’m prone to oversharing as it is; I don’t need the temptation.
“By being a friend to Lola, I was trying to be a friend to my mom. Does that make sense?” I’m not asking just to check her understanding, but because I need to know the answer.
Does it make sense?
“Yeah,” Vanessa breathes out. “You’re going to need more than a coloring book to get in Mom’s good graces,” she warns me. “Start with the sob story, she’s a softie even if she doesn’t seem like it.”
The look she gives me is pointed and I swallow hard.
“Seems like she’s got your number,” my father’s rumble comes from behind us, and I almost fall off the damn bench I’m sitting on.
Vanessa points at me and laughs so hard she’s slapping her knee and almost falls off as well. I catch her and right her, something settling inside me when she doesn’t flinch. She gasps out, “Did you see his face?”
“I scared him good, didn’t I?” Dad drawls with a huge grin on his face. When he glances at me, something cold flashes in his eyes and I wince.
“Are you the one he’s afraid will kick his butt?” Vanessa asks innocently.
Rumble’s chuckle is hearty as he nods. “And he’s right to be afraid,” he tells her. There might be amusement on his face, but his words are a promise.
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Vanessa advises. “Lola is really good at what she does. Grifter? I looked it up on my tablet one day.”
Speaking of Lola. I look around, but I don’t see her.
“She slinked away about the time you incorrectly mentioned Mom being pregnant with me,” Vanessa pipes in knowingly. “I’m sure she’s afraid of the fall-out. She knows when to scatter, kind of like a cockroach.”
Yeah, that sounds about right. The club is going to have some real conversations about her. I’m going to be in the hotseat for every single one.
“Oh fuck,” I hear someone spurt out, “I was just taking a drink.”
I almost roll my eyes because my brothers are so fucking nosey. They’re probably salivating over the drama.
“There’s no excuse for him talking to anyone the way he did, especially a lady,” Rumble’s voice is serious.
“True enough,” Vanessa agrees. “But he was kind of like a puppet. The kind with the strings?” She scrunches her face and looks up expectantly at Rumble and me.
“A marionette,” I offer.
She points at me and exclaims, “That’s it. I’m not spelling it though.” She crosses her arms across her chest, the action final and full of sass.
“I don’t want to spell it either,” Dad agrees. He settles down on the seat on the other side of her.
Vanessa looks at the patch where his road name is and she laughs. “Is your nickname Rumble because your voice is a rumble?”
“It’s a road name,” he gently corrects her and she nods once like she’s filed the information away properly, “and yes.”
She looks at me and eyes my name patch with wariness, but she doesn’t ask. Thankfully.
My road name was given for obvious reasons and I earned it honestly. Lola has been the exception, not the rule.
And then there’s Lara. I’ve had dreams about Lara and I haven’t told a damn soul about them.
Dreams where she was naked and writhing underneath me with sugar coating her skin and my name on her lips. She’s sexy as hell and the fire that flashes in her eyes whenever she’s giving me attitude makes me want to pin her to a wall and fuck her until she doesn’t remember how to talk back.
I shift on the bench and clear my throat, forcing my focus back to the present. Vanessa is giving my dad her entire attention, but I can see the wheels turning in her head.
“Rumble,” she starts, her face serious and her words blunt, “what kind of deal do we need to negotiate for me to be able to ride your bike?” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder in my direction. “I’d ask him, but I already know Mom won’t agree to it. Not considering the current state of things.”
My mouth falls open. I expect Rumble to laugh, but instead he gets very serious.
He slowly rubs his beard like he’s thinking.
“Well, your mom and I were talking about sourdough earlier. I reckon I’d be willing to barter some baking knowledge for a ride, but only if your mom agrees.
You’ll also need the right gear, but I’ll fix you up if she gives the go-ahead. ”
“I don’t have a phone to call you myself and set it up but give me a few days and call the bakery.” Vanessa leans closer to Dad and drops her voice, “I’ll lay the groundwork. You just need to be the adult.”
“I think I can do that,” Dad’s face remains stoic, but the corners of his eyes crinkle just slightly.
Vanessa nods and opens her mouth, but the backdoor of the clubhouse opens and Lara’s voice rings out, “Vanessa. Let’s get going.”
She doesn’t step out of the building, and it stings. Her eyes find her daughter and when her gaze shifts to me, her jaw tightens. Yeah, I’m not surprised.
I’m a little surprised when she doesn’t say anything. When her eyes move over the rest of the yard, seeing how close the Old Ladies are and most of the brothers, she softens slightly.
Fuck, I’m the biggest fucking asshole.
Vanessa pats my hand, her voice solemn, “Good luck, buddy. You’re going to need it.”
She’s fucking right, but a resolve hits me that I’ve never felt before.
I’m not exactly sure what making it right looks like in this situation considering I spent a long time being a complete douche to Lara, but I’m going to try and figure it out.
I wouldn’t advise anyone to hold their breath waiting for me to be successful either.
“Nice meeting you, Rumble,” she chirps as she stands up. Then she gives a big wave and, before running off, she shouts out, “Bye.”
Lara’s face lights up with a smile and I take the chance to really look at her. There aren’t any tear tracks, but her eyes are a little puffy and red.
She was crying.
Why does that surprise me? She just laid out her pain, her daughter’s pain, to prove herself when she wasn’t obligated to.
I feel even lower than low. When they’re back inside and the door closes, I force myself to look at Dad.
“You done fucked up big time, boy,” he’s almost laughing the words, but there’s no amusement there. “I should kick your ass and make you bleed, but that little girl asked me to take it easy on you, and you opened up to her a little bit about why.”
The pain in his eyes has me swallowing hard. He gave me everything he could, and the club tried to fill the gaps, but it wasn’t the same and I knew it.
“But,” his tone turns lethal, “if I ever hear you talking to a lady like that again, I will put you in the fucking ICU without blinking or feeling a damn bit of guilt about it.”
It’s not a threat.
It’s a fucking promise.
“I know, Dad.” And I do.
“You fucking better,” he rumbles. “Those girls are sweet as pie and much better than you deserve.”
Before I can say anything, he stands up and strides away. I only sit there a few more moments before getting up and heading up to my room. I’ve got a lot to think about and some plans to make.