“I’ve never seen you like that.”
“Never needed to be. Everyone I know gives me lots of space.”
“But you get it, right? Why I fight with her?”
I think about the Jury, how we retaliate when assholes threaten us, but this is different. Henri and Selkie live in the civilized world despite their borderline psychopathy. “Retaliation is not the answer. Not when it comes to women.”
Oscar sighs as he lays down and turns his back to me. “Great answer, dad. Then what is?”
Christ, I wish I knew.
Three hours later, I’m still awake. Partly because it feels like I’m lying on a slab of marble, but also because my conscious is nagging me.
What kind of a father am I really? I’ve never been all that interactive with Oscar. He spent most of his growing up years in daycares, schools, and then aftercare or at the clubhouse. Babysitters at night when I wasn’t there, which was too fucking often.
After Chloe died, I was catatonic for months, then the anger came, hard and fast. I lost every shred of humanity as my need for revenge consumed me. All I could think of was tracking down the bastards who essentially killed her and watching the hope in their eyes fade as I shot them dead.
If it weren’t for Oscar, I’d be dead by now. He saved my life I guess, but I killed eight men to avenge my wife. The fact that I don’t regret it wraps me in a darkness I can’t find my way out of.
Except, since I met Selkie there’s this pinprick of light. At first, I could barely see it, but now it’s growing closer. I can’t figure it out. She’s nothing like Chloe and she’s everything I’m not. She’s a hurricane, I’m a rock. She barrels over people. I pull the trigger and stop them dead in their tracks. She never shuts up, I have nothing to say.
She makes me crazy. I make her crazy. And I’m attracted to her despite it all.
Oscar lets out a soft snore as I have an epiphany. He and Henri are the same to each other. She pokes him, he pokes back. They don’t relent. It doesn’t make sense except it does. Deep down somewhere that even they can’t find, they might actually be drawn to each other.
They’re on the verge of adolescence. Hormones are raging. But where Oscar’s concerned, I’ve only ever heard him talk about Henri. No other girl. Yeah, he likes her, but she brings out the worst in him.
I’m feeling smug as I think about the conversation I’m going to have with Selkie tomorrow. See what she thinks. I’ve no doubt she’ll agree with me. Well, right after she disagrees with me.
I’m almost asleep when I hear footsteps outside. My adrenalin hits hyperdrive as I reach for my gun. This is fucked, sleeping in a tent. No walls. Only one way out.
My head goes to the Blackbeards, a rival bike club. They either followed us out here or someone on the inside told them where we’d be. The idea that someone from our club would betray us to an enemy wouldn’t have even crossed my mind, but last fall one of the Jury’s old ladies almost got Red’s woman killed and everyone’s lost the trust.
Whoever it is, they’re outside thinking they can terrorize us. If they planned to kill us, we’d be dead by now. I could shoot them through the canvas before they fuck with us except I can’t. Oscar’s in here and Selkie and her kid are close by. I can’t risk hitting them.
This kicks my brain into rational mode as I think of a more innocent explanation. Selkie or the kid have to pee.
I cautiously sit up as steps grow closer then stop outside the tent on Oscar’s side. This is not Selkie or Henri. They’d be somewhere far from us.
Blood rushes to my head and my heart starts thudding as I think about what could happen to Oscar.
The awareness of him getting hurt would’ve brought me to my knees if I’d been standing. He and I are a team and without him, I’d be nothing. I’ve never told him how much he means to me. I’ve taken it for granted that he knows.
The rustling of the tent jerks me back to reality. I gotta fuckin’ do something. Let them think I’m still sleeping and catch them by surprise.
I ease out of my sleeping bag and start to crawl towards the door. Then Oscar’s side of the tent collapses. Seconds later, my side collapses. The tent buckles and the roof caves in.
“Wha…what?” Oscar says, still foggy from sleep. Then he realizes what’s happened and starts tearing at the canvas. “Dad!” he shouts.
“I’m here,” I say to reassure him. “We gotta get out of here.”
“What about Henri and her mom?”
“Yeah, gotta get to them.”
I manage to unzip the tent and scramble out. No point in being cautious anymore.
Fleming’s tent is several feet from us and still standing to my relief. Unless she and the kid have been massacred. Fuck! It would be my fault. The camping trip was my fuckin’ idea.
