Chapter 8
With the sweltering heat reflecting off the blacktop, Sebastian wondered who would melt first, him or Caitlyn’s kid.
She brought the boy with her this morning.
Poor little dude looked blurry-eyed while curled against the motorcycle shed with his backpack as a pillow.
He slept a little, then worked with a scowl on his face.
Sebastian couldn’t blame the kid. He’d rather have slept in on a Saturday, too, but this was his regular gig now.
He let Yeats teach in the classroom on Friday nights, and Sebastian worked the course with Caitlyn on Saturdays and Sundays.
He watched as Caitlyn strolled around the blacktop in her way-too-snug jeans and those laced-up black boots. She’d braided her hair, letting it swing over her shoulder as she marked off on her clipboard for another participant to complete this part of the course.
She glanced at Owen for what must have been the hundredth time. It didn’t escape Sebastian’s attention how the mother kept her son in her line of vision. It made him edgy, like something was about to go down. But what?
Sebastian slid off his leather jacket when the sun burned away the morning chill in the air. He wore long sleeves to protect his arms and applied a good ration of sunblock to his nose. Hats were never his thing.
They had a small class—seven riders—and none of them seemed to harass Caitlyn or give either of them a hard time.
No one dropped motorcycles or incurred any injuries.
Sebastian cupped the back of his hot neck.
He didn’t miss the tense standoffs and suspicious glances exchanged between club members.
Here, laughter filled the air as a student fumbled to right a tipped motorcycle.
Sebastian chuckled, a genuine sound he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
He reached for a bottle of sunscreen, the afternoon sun already warming against his skin.
A stark contrast to the bulletproof vests and stifling anonymity of his previous life.
Shaking his head, he walked over to Owen, the kid’s handheld video game console still going strong. Did those things still run on batteries, or did they need to be plugged in to charge?
A sweat drip ran down the boy’s face, his lip caught between his teeth in concentration. Sebastian reckoned they’d move to the other side of the shed in another hour. He reached for his water and caught Owen looking at him from the corner of his eye.
“Alright, everyone, that’s it for this morning’s class. You can park the motorcycle over by the shed. Great job!”
Maybe in another week or two, she might feel comfortable letting him take the lead on more of the sessions, but sometimes, a woman liked to feel they were in control. Caitlyn gave him that vibe.
She thanked him for mowing her grass but warned him not to do it again in the next breath.
Behind those dark, sunglass-covered eyes was a soul haunted by a traumatic past. She could act like she didn’t need him.
He shouldn’t care or want to help her. The last thing he wanted was another female thinking they could rely on him.
So why did it matter so much to him if Caitlyn brushed off his attempts to get to know her?
The buzz of the phone in his back pocket sent a jolt through Sebastian.
It’d happened three times this morning. Only a handful of those he trusted had access to this number.
A wave of nausea washed over him. He went through a new phone every few weeks, paranoid and determined not to do anything foolish.
The Sharks, a once-powerful club, broke apart because of his actions.
But loyalty ran deep in that world, and vengeance was deeper still.
Every unknown number, every unexpected knock on the door, was a potential storm cloud on the horizon.
The phone in Sebastian’s pocket buzzed a fourth time that morning, the insistent vibration a counterpoint to the rumble of motorcycles in the distance.
He curled his hand around the phone, shoving it deeper into his pocket.
Fear coiled in his gut like a cold serpent, but this wasn’t the place nor the time.
Across the training yard, Caitlyn stood with her clipboard, her sharp gaze fixed on a rider parked awkwardly in the center.
A knot of sympathy tightened for the guy.
Sebastian recognized the crestfallen poster, the hangdog expression.
He’d worn that same look plenty of times himself, back when mistakes meant more than just a gentle redirection.
Caitlyn pointed toward the designated parking area near the shed, her voice clipped but not unkind. The rider flinched, a flicker of embarrassment flitting across his face before he mumbled an apology and maneuvered his motorcycle.
Sebastian walked around to the other side of the shed. The phone in his pocket stopped buzzing.
Owen looked up at him. His scowl relaxed and soon turned into a deep frown. Several granola bar wrappers littered the pavement. Across the street, the light blinked on for the ice cream stand.
Sebastian forced a smile, hoping to project optimism toward the boy. “Hey, kid, why don’t you get some ice cream?”
Owen’s dark eyes softened as a wicked grin spread across his lips.
The kid would have all the girls’ hearts in a trap in a few years.
What he did with them worried Sebastian.
Caitlyn insisted Sebastian do all the demonstrations for the class.
He couldn’t let go of the unease crawling between his shoulder blades.
She must not have wanted to leave the boy with her father.
He’d dealt with his share of drunks in the past. It was clear Caitlyn was a good mother.
She tried to raise the boy with good manners and respect.
Sometimes he wondered if his own mother had been strict enough, but in the end, he couldn’t change the past. Laura Daniels wasn’t below giving him a good kick where it counted to get him to stop making excuses.
Owen stood up. Sebastian pulled out his wallet and handed the kid some cash. “There and back. Don’t get me in trouble with your mother.”
Owen’s eyes widened, big and brown. They lit up, taking the cash.
“There and back,” Sebastian repeated.
“Yes, sir.” Owen saluted him before taking off across the parking lot.
Caitlyn came out from around the shed.
“Where is Owen?”
Sebastian nodded toward the little ice cream shop across the street. “I gave him a few bucks. He deserved it after sitting in this heat all morning.”
Caitlyn bristled. She slapped her hip. “You might be partners with me today to teach these classes, but you have no say over my son.” She pulled out cash, and Sebastian held up his hands.
He should have seen this coming. “It’s my treat.”
Panic fluttered in her eyes. Her chest rose with quick breaths. He spoke to keep her distracted, hoping it would calm her. “Besides, I owe him. Little dude cleaned up those flower beds over by the church last week.” Owen came back into view. Sebastian pointed. “See. He’s there.”
The scolding look she gave him could have burned rubber on the hot pavement.
Owen licked a cone, dripping chocolate ice cream.
In the boy’s other hand was a cup with another scoop inside, which he held out to Caitlyn.
Scowling at him, she planted her other hand on her hip.
She went into “mad mother mode.” Sebastian shrugged, giving the kid a sheepish look.
He couldn’t seem to do right around this woman.
She spoke to him in Spanish, rattling off so fast that he couldn’t pick up the words, even if he could recognize a few of them.
Caitlyn took the cup of ice cream, still glaring at the boy. He walked past his mother, looked at Sebastian with a sly grin on his face, and said, “You didn’t want any, did you?”
Sebastian shook his head, ruffling the kid’s hair as Owen headed back to his spot under the tree.
Over the past couple of weeks, Owen’d slowly warmed up to Sebastian.
The boy did minor jobs for him while they were on site.
He tried to encourage the boy to help his mother more.
Ice cream and slipping him a few bucks worked as a good motivator.
Sebastian grabbed his water bottle and went to his bike to grab the protein bar he packed. Seeing a shadow stretched out beyond him, he tensed. His blood pumped. His hand dropped from the protein bar, reaching for under his jacket to his back.
“Don’t do that again,” she said.
All at once, the tension let loose. He wiped his sweaty palm down the back of his leg. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched her take a bite of soft-serve ice cream.
“I won’t without asking. I’m sorry. I should have figured it would scare you not to know where he was.” Only he expected it. Thinking that hunch itching at him all morning was never wrong.
Her eyes widened slightly. She dragged the spoon from between her lips. His attention drifted to the action.
“Why would you think I was scared?”
He shed his jacket, feeling too hot under the sun. His t-shirt stuck to the center of his back. Relief came in a small chill against his sweat-slick skin. Pivoting, he tossed the jacket over his motorcycle. The protein bar was on the ground by the motorcycle’s rear wheel.
Patiently, he grabbed it while he thought about how to respond. She was like a crouched tiger about to pounce.
“My mother liked to always know where her kids were. I figured it was a mom thing.”
Partial truth.
The unease didn’t lessen in her stance. She played with her ice cream. “You should eat that before it melts.” He opened his water bottle, guzzling a good portion down. The cool liquid refreshed his insides but curled and froze in his gut as a little nagging suspicion tugged at him.
The law enforcer part of him kicked in, wanting to protect her, protect Owen. Sebastian doused some water over his head, hoping to come to his senses. The heat, not this woman and her son, had gotten to him.