Chapter 3 - Ford
THREE
FORD
My cat hated my house.
It honestly made me consider whether it might be haunted because whenever I took him from my parents’ and let him out of his carrier in my living room, he’d huddle in a corner. Which wasn’t like him at all, and it wasn’t like I had other pets in the house to scare him.
“Is he sick?” Johnson asked while biting into a candy bar.
With my hand stretched toward my cat, I glared at my friend. “He’s not sick.”
“Seems sick.”
Gus wasn’t coming out of the corner no matter what I did. “Fuck.”
Johnson finished his candy and wadded up the wrapper while huffing out a laugh. “Ever think it might just be your house?”
“What’s wrong with it?” I had a roof over my head, fuckin’ walls and plumbing. Sure, it wasn’t as nice as my parents’ house, but between their place and the club, I was hardly home anyway.
Johnson’s hair was white by choice, he liked dying it that color and using a shit ton of product to style it. Which was unfortunate because his helmet completely ruined it. “You have a wicker couch for starters.”
I stood, deciding Gus would come out on his own. “It was on sale.”
“Normal couches also go on sale, Ford.” Johnson waved at my dining room in a wild gesture. “And real tables, what is this?”
I shrugged because how should I know? It held my food, what more did I need?
“Did you pick up all the reports?” I asked while biting into a chip. I scanned my kitchen, trying to see if there was something wrong with it too. It was ugly, but it was functional.
Johnson reached for the backpack near my wicker couch. “I got all but Dead Roses.”
I resisted the urge to yell at him. While I was more subdued than angry most of the time, the longer I was around the Stone Riders, and especially now with this new role, the more frequently the urge to scream surfaced.
“Did you even try?”
Johnson’s eyes bulged. “Did I try?”
“Did I fuckin’ stutter?” Seriously, why did I pick him to be my second? He was always eating something with sugar, always singing along to some song in his head, and laughed way too loud. And apparently, he lacked a set of balls that had dropped.
He turned the wrapper of his candy down so he could take another bite.
“Your dad scares the ever-loving shit out of me. Being there alone with your mom and having him show up is a risk I don't want to take. I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole. I’ve heard rumors about your dad reacting poorly to guys being near your mom. ”
Fuck. This really was my dad’s fault; the rumors were all true.
With a heavy sigh, I held out my hand. “Give me the bag. I’ll go do it.”
“You sure?” Johnson asked as if I had any choice now that he had chosen not to do it. I scanned his five-foot-three stature, his stocky build, and his glacial eyes, and remembered he was one of the most loyal men I had ever met.
“I’m sure. But do me a favor and see if you can get Gus to acclimate to my house.”
“Aw, come on. Anything but that.”
I held up the bag as if to dare him to go to Dead Roses and get the reports from my mom.
He swallowed again while hesitantly glancing at the bag, then at my cat. “Does he have any treats?”
Gesturing toward the cupboard, I took the bag and my chips and left the house.
The sun was bright with spring emerging, which the people of Rose Ridge took advantage of by jogging, shopping, and in some cases, swimming.
Some idiot was down at the docks with a paddleboard.
The river wasn’t gentle enough for paddle boarding or swimming, and hopefully someone would tell the moron that before he got himself killed.
I parked my bike in front of Dead Roses, the only tattoo shop in Rose Ridge.
I had a theory about why Mom and Dad’s shop was the only one in town, but no one really knew for sure.
My hunch was that no one wanted to compete with the Stone Riders.
Glancing down the block, I saw a flash of blond in front of the Drip and paused.
There were no open parking spots in front of the popular café, but that never stopped Royce.
There, next to the door on the sidewalk, was her sports bike with pink fenders.
I could offer more theories on why I believed she did this, and sure it could have revolved around the fact that the coffee shop also belonged to the Stone Riders.
However, Royce would pave a path for herself anywhere, but in Rose Ridge, she walked around as if she were royalty.
Fuck, I guess maybe she was, being Killian’s daughter.
Those who knew how much of the town our club had bought up would treat her exactly the way she acted, but what bothered me was how everyone who didn’t know seemed to treat her the exact same way regardless.
With irritation itching under my skin, I turned my back and pushed inside my parents’ shop.
My mother lifted her head at the sound of the bell ringing over the door.
“Ford!” Her smile was warm and genuine. Even as she aged, there were things about her that would never fade, like her hazel eyes, and the expression she got on her face when my father entered a room.
Or the way her emotions became too strong when she watched my sister dance.
She hated the silver strands that had invaded her chestnut hair, but she was beautiful.
She had stopped tattooing clients, but still oversaw the day-to-day operations. It kept her busy with me out of the house and my sister Ellie a few dance recitals away from landing a spot in some prestigious school.
“What brings you in, honey?” My mother wrapped her arms around me, her forehead coming to my chin.
“Reports.” I sighed. This shit was already getting old, and I’d just started doing it. Which was why I had tasked Johnson with it. My mom chuckled under her breath with a slight smile. “I thought Johanson, or Johnston, came and got them.”
“Johnson, and he would, but he’s scared of Dad.”
That made her toss her head back with a full-bellied laugh.
Shaking my head in disappointment, I tried to guilt her. “You guys are mean, you know he’s not totally wrong for being nervous.”
“I suppose not.” She moved around the small reception desk and let out her own sigh. “Speaking of. Do you know where your father is?”
“He’s talking to Killian about routes.”
My mother began stacking a few papers before pursing her lips. “I know you’re busy with your new role, Ford, but please tell me you’re being careful. The club went legitimate after Killian took over and now—”
“Now, you have to trust that we know what we’re doing.” I gently took the stack of papers from her and slid them into my bag.
Mom’s smile was feeble as she glanced at the patch over my left breast. “When will that be changing?”
Currently, it said my name, but soon enough it would have a different title sewn there. My mother wasn’t happy about that change either, and she was one of the few people who knew about that development.
“Soon, but things are still under wraps.”
She dipped her chin, making her lighter brown hair shift over her shoulder.
“Mom, you can’t tell Laura or anyone. It’s important that you don’t let it slip.”
Her eyes were red when she looked at me again. “I know. I also know that Laura is going to murder Killian when she realizes how he kept this from her. You’re all being so reckless.”
“We’re doing everything within our power to keep people safe. I know you can see that, deep down, under all of this. You know we have no other choice.”
She stalked past me toward the back office. No one was in yet because the shop didn’t open for another hour. “We’ve been fine all these years. I don’t see why that would change. Max was toying with us, that was all.”
Mom didn’t know everything, so I tried not to get frustrated with her.
Still, hearing her dismiss this one thing that had defined my life in such a major way was surreal.
When I was ten years old, a rival motorcycle club attacked us, during Christmas.
They shot at Connor’s family in broad daylight.
I watched Uncle Silas’s mouth turn blue as we all worried he’d lose his life right there in the club office.
I remembered my mother’s panic attack after my father rode out with the rest of the Stone Riders when they needed to get a doctor.
The madman behind it was named Max, his club was the Destroyers.
He was technically Rook and Ryle’s uncle, and when he met Rook, instead of killing him, he gave him a warning and left a threat for my family.
“Mom, you know I love you, but the only reason we’ve kept you updated on as much as we have is because of that threat. But we aren’t leaving this to chance or risking the town. Max said he’d be back once we’re older, and he has a debt to settle with you, especially because you’re a Stone.”
“I’m a Ryan, have been for well over twenty-five years.” She quipped while tugging open a filing cabinet.
The urge to roll my eyes was strong. My mother was nothing if not stubborn.
“Born a Stone, Mom. Raised by a Stone.”
She waved me off, but she knew I was right.
Max held back from finishing all of us off that night all those years ago because he wanted his nephews to join him when they grew up.
And while Mom didn’t know this, he had been back…
and he had left us with enough fear that we made drastic changes within the club.
“I don’t want you getting in over your head…the cops we have on payroll can’t help with this new venture the club has made with the local shops and your construction business.”
While I didn’t like being reminded of it, I knew she was right. If the FBI came sniffing, we’d be ruined.
“I’m being careful, I promise.”
My mom returned to the spot in front of me and clasped my face between her palms. “You’re so young to be carrying such a heavy burden, my love.
I want you to find some joy in this life, because the club will never be enough.
Not the women, or the loyalty…you need substance, roots to keep you grounded. ”
“That’s why I have Gus, Mom.” I joked while pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
I already knew the club would never fill that gaping hole in my chest. It had been a long time since I’d touched a woman, and if I were to go for one, she wouldn’t be from the club.
I wanted roots. I wanted what my parents had, but I wasn’t sure that was in the cards for me.
Mom patted my chest as she moved back to the filing cabinet. “Speaking of that moody cat, you need to go see him. He’s been more ornery than normal. Honestly, I wish you’d take him home with you.”
I needed to get back to the club before it got too much later. Sliding the straps of my backpack on, I gave my mother one last smile. “I already picked him up. He’s at my house right now.”
“Good, maybe keep him there,” Mom suggested jokingly.
“I could never take him from such opulence, Mom. His standards are far too high.” With a quick kiss to her cheek, I walked out of Dead Roses, aiming for my bike. I was about to straddle it when I caught sight of a flash of gold.
Royce was outside, sipping her iced coffee while talking to some guy with dark, cropped hair.
I remembered seeing her with him at the movies one time.
She was there, holding popcorn while he held her hip, and the two walked toward some cartoon movie.
Another thing about Royce was she hated anything that required her to grow up.
She was like the female version of Peter Pan.
Still living at home, still wearing pink like it would go out of style if she stopped.
I was even present to see her apply fake tattoos once, with water and a washrag because, according to her sister, Royce could never decide on something as permanent as a tattoo.
She still ate Lunchables and even used a kid’s lunch pail for work.
She still sucked on lollipops, way too fucking frequently for my sanity.
But that was Royce, a pink bubble floating around Rose Ridge without any cares or responsibilities.
She was annoyingly unaware of her charm too.
She had a very grown-up set of tits that pushed against almost every shirt she wore, and a high, round ass that practically begged for me to stare at it, but I never did.
No matter how tight the leather she wore, or the leggings on the rare chance that she didn’t dress for a ride.
I kept my eyes on my feet, to remind myself that they should never be headed in the same direction as Royce Quinn.
Sometimes living in a small town was pure shit, and running into Royce had always been one of the most consistent reasons for that. Which reminded me of what Killian had told me regarding Rodney and the Hollow. If she got her dream job, she’d be here to stay.
If she didn’t…well, then maybe she’d finally leave.