Chapter Six #2

don’t wanna ride alone, Joke goes out with me. Or

Boz. Or Hound. I can put in a kitchen but that’s not my thing, how it should

look, so if I need to buy a sink that works for one of my places, Tyra helps

me. Or my sister helps me. Or my mom tells me what she thinks would work.”

“That’s all important, but what I’m saying about me at this

point in my life is different than all that,” I told him carefully.

“You think if my mom died or something ugly happened to my

sister that those brothers and their women wouldn’t be all about being there

for me?” he asked.

I looked at my toes.

“Rosalie,” he growled.

“They would,” I whispered.

“It isn’t about havin’ someone to

share a beer with, even when it is. It isn’t about havin’

someone to do a ride with, even when it’s that too. It’s about making the

conscious decision to surround myself with good people so when life is good, I

got someone to share that with, and when life turns to shit, I got someone

who’ll help hold me steady.”

Now I was deep breathing.

“Life, Rosie,” he said gently, “is not about goin’ it alone. It’s about finding the right people to

share it with who will make it better when it’s good and be there to hold you

steady when it’s not.”

“But I’m bouncing from guy to guy to guy,” I pointed out.

“You’re living your life and you aren’t doin’

it latchin’ on to men to take care of you. You’re doin’ it and men are drifting through your life while

that’s happening. They weren’t the right ones and right now, that’s good for

me, because I wanna be that one. But they aren’t

anything except that they were. They were in your life. And

you moved on or they moved on or whatever. You wanna

be with somebody, that does not make you weak, Rosie. In most cases, finding it

in you to take the risk to trust your time and your heart to someone makes you

strong. But in all cases, wanting to share your life with other people just

makes you human.”

“You’ve got it totally figured out,” I muttered.

“No, Rosie, I got dick figured out,” he retorted. “Only

thing I know for certain is, so far, I lucked out and made good decisions in my

life, and one of them is you. The you that it doesn’t mean shit you got a scar cuttin’ ’cross your brow like it wouldn’t mean shit you put

on fifty pounds like it wouldn’t mean shit you aged thirty years. You’re Rosie.

And no matter what, you’ll always be beautiful.”

My throat sounded clogged when I pushed through it, “I don’t

think you need to come back anymore, Snapper.”

“You don’t sound much better, baby,” he said softly.

“Then you aren’t listening very closely.”

He grew silent.

I stared at my toes fighting against crying.

He broke the silence.

“Now, tell me what you got planned for your day.”

I cleared my throat, lifted my gaze, and focused on his

tidy, winter yard. “Unpacking. Calling Colombo’s. Online shopping to build a

vision for my reading nook.”

Your reading nook.

Damn.

“That all sounds good but not sure it’s gonna

fill up your day, Rosie.”

He wanted me to fill up my day so I had good things to do,

things to stay busy with, things that would keep me from getting in my head and

messing with my own damn self.

And that was so damn Snapper.

“I also need rugs, a dining room table, garden furniture,

another seating area,” and a portable crib. I didn’t share the last. I

didn’t want him freaking at this point. One of us freaking was enough. I just

finished, “I think now that I’m feeling better, I’m going to consider the rest

of the time off more of a vacation and relax. Check in with Mom. Just…be.”

“That sounds like it’ll work,” he murmured.

I drew in a deep breath.

“You fall back into your head and it isn’t good, Rosie, you

call me,” he ordered.

“Okay, Snapper.”

“I’ll text when I’m on my way tonight with food.”

“Okay.”

“Right, I’ll let you go now.”

“Uh…Snap?”

“Right here.”

I drew in another deep breath then said, “Thanks, honey, for

pulling me out of my head.”

“Thanks for letting me.”

That had me closing my eyes again, dropping my head and

opening them to stare at my toes.

“Pedicure,” I mumbled.

“Say again?”

“I’m going to give myself a pedicure today.”

“Call your mom and go out and get one with her.”

“That sounds perfect.”

It did and I decided to set that up before I even called

Colombo’s.

And Snap sounded like he was smiling when he replied,

“Great. Later, Scully.”

“The truth is out there, Mulder. It’s also in here, since

you just laid a ton of it on me.”

The last thing I heard before he disconnected was him

chuckling.

I loved that.

So much I memorized that in a way I hoped to God I’d never

forget that moment and the sound of Snapper’s humor after all he’d just given

me.

Then I took my phone from my ear and called my mother.

“Okay, give it to me, what’s going on with my

Rosalie,” Mom ordered.

I’d unpacked. Colombo’s knew to put me on rotation. We’d had

lunch, then manis and pedis. Now we were sitting on the couch in front of the

windows at Fortnum’s Used Bookstore having a latte as crafted by a crazy man

who looked like serial killers never looked, but you expected them to, who made

the absolute best coffee in Denver.

And I was not surprised that my mom had read me.

“Snapper is coming over for dinner tonight and to have a

heavy conversation about what’s next for him and me,” I shared.

“Good. And after that takes five minutes to figure out, I

hope he gives you an orgasm during your first time which would round him out as

utterly perfect for you,” she shot back.

I stared at her.

“Your father would love him,” she declared, leaned into me,

and repeated with emphasis, “Love him.”

He absolutely would.

And that felt crazy-good.

It was high time I laid it out.

And as ever, I laid it out with my mother.

“Mom, Chaos is at war with a man called Benito Valenzuela.

He’s the head of a syndicate that sells drugs, runs guns, peddles flesh, and

makes porno movies.”

I watched my mom’s mouth turn down.

“And Chaos are vigilantes,” I kept going. “Even before this

war with this Benito guy cropped up, they patrolled their turf and if they

found something happening they didn’t like, this being illegal activities, they

didn’t…and still don’t…call the police.” I paused, studied her closely and

asked, “Are you understanding me?”

“I…uh, is this a bad thing?” she asked back.

Seriously?

I leaned toward her and hissed, “Mom! Snapper and

his brothers are at war and they act like Chaos turf is Tombstone, they’re the

Earp brothers, and they have every right to police it when it’s not

Tombstone. It’s Denver. Well, parts are Englewood,” I meandered off target and

then got back to it. “And Denver, and Englewood, have their own

police.”

“So they’re an outlaw biker club who are outlaws by being

citizens that make people obey the law,” she said.

That sounded almost…

Noble.

Damn.

“Well…yeah,” I replied.

“And this is bad because…?” she asked.

“Because it’s dangerous,” I snapped.

“And did you know this happened when you dated that Shy

person?” she inquired.

“Not really, that’s when I found out,” I told her.

“And you didn’t end things with him when he turned out to be

a vigilante?” she pushed.

I shut up.

She still knew my answer since I didn’t end things with Shy.

He’d ended them with me.

Thus she kept talking.

“And, although you didn’t share the fullness of your

maneuvers with Chaos against Bounty with your mother, you put your behind on

the line for Chaos against your old man’s club knowing they had something

planned for your old man’s club. And since that is not about Chaos turf in

Denver or Englewood, but things happening on Bounty turf in Aurora, this had

something to do with this war with this Benito person you also knew about.”

“I heard Beck talking about what his brothers were getting

into. And that Benito guy. And the Chaos situation. And old ladies and biker

groupies chat. So, not all of it, but yeah, I knew enough of it.”

“Enough of it you approached Chaos to help out,” she

surmised.

I shut up again.

“Because you wanted Beck to sort himself out,” she kept at

me.

“At first,” I said.

“And when he continued to go along with his club when they

were doing seriously stupid stuff that put you all in danger, you gave up on

him and started to see what else was out there, even if this happened

unintentionally. That something else in your face and your life and involved

with this situation,” she deduced.

I nodded.

She nodded back and kept going.

“I think it’s important to note that you were in danger even

before you informed on your old man’s club, Rosalie. The authorities don’t like

anyone enjoying ill-gotten gains, not even those who gained them consequently.

This might not mean you’d be prosecuted when they’d gotten caught. What it

would mean is that, if you’d bought a home with Beck’s dirty money, it would be

taken from you. If you’d bought a car, it would be taken from you. If you’d had

children with him, the powers that be might concern themselves with your

ability to make good choices for yourself and your children, and they might

consider taking them from you. And Beck made conscious decisions to put you

right there. It was you who made conscious decisions to get you and

him out.”

“I know what happened, Mom,” I said carefully.

“And in the meantime, you met Snapper, who came to mean

something to you, something deep and good and important. A Snapper who is with

a club at war with a man who peddles flesh and makes porn and

your issue is…?” she prompted.

“He might get hurt,” I told her.

“Yes, and a police officer faces every shift every day with

that same risk.”

And finally we were where I needed us to be.

“Snap is not police,” I pointed out.

“And a soldier faces that every day when they’re deployed,”

she kept on like I didn’t say anything.

“He’s not a soldier either, Mom.”

She jerked her head to the side. “He isn’t?”

I shut up again.

“You know,” she carried on, “in a perfect world, there are

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