Another bike pulls up beside me, and I nearly crack a smile when I see who’s next to me. A fellow nomad I’ve done multiple runs with named Cash.
The man doesn’t talk much, and I suppose he doesn’t have to. He’s fuckin’ huge, even towering over me. As he gets off his bike, he gives me a look.
“You coming?” he asks.
“Workin’ on it,” I reply.
He shakes his head at me. He’s probably the man I’m the closest to at this fuckin’ party. I know he’ll have my back. You would think from his sheer size that he would be an enforcer of some sort, but the fact is, his brain is even bigger than his muscles. Cash got his road name because he’s so good with money. He’s good at moving it, hiding it, and earning it.
He doesn’t leave, though; he waits for me to stop being a little bitch. I toss the butt into the sand and promptly get off my bike before heading towards the square. Cash doesn’t ask me questions while we walk over to the picnic tables, and I’m grateful for it. Everyone knows who my dad is, but most of themdon’t know why I left, why I would rather be a nomad than stay here and pine after my father’s gavel.
I note some of the familiar faces as I walk around and stall the interaction I’ve been dreading. Speaking of Dread, the old man claps a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. Isn’t it funny how the person who isn’t your biological father can be more paternal than the man you share actual blood with?
“Missed your ugly fuckin’ mug around here, son,” he says by way of a greeting.
“Well, if you’re lucky, you’ll be seeing it all the time, old man.” He claps my shoulder one more time before walking off. Dread is another man of few words. He still looks good for being in his late fifties. Still has the same short dark hair and mustache to match. The scar along his eye used to freak me out as a kid, but as I got older, I understood that he had seen some shit and made it out on the other side.
I’m too busy watching him walk away when a soft hand grips my arm. By her scent alone, I already know it’s Teresa, my father’s Omega. When I look down at her, she gives me a sheepish smile. Teresa never had anything to do with the issues between my father and me; shit, by the time they bonded we were already too far gone. Yet, it still unsettles me every time I see her. She looks so much like my late mother it’s uncanny.
“Thomas, honey, you look great,” she compliments.
“Tate,” I remind her, and she shakes her head.
“I’m sorry. Tate. Can I get you a plate? A beer?” she asks.
“A beer would be great,” I tell her. She gives me a smile, the burned side of her face crinkling as she turns and walks away.
I bring my hand to the back of my neck and squeeze, trying to calm myself. Seeing Dread and Teresa back-to-back means that the inevitable is going to happen sooner rather than later. I’m looking around the large outdoor space, but I don’t see him. I’mhoping that he greets me now, so this pit in my stomach will go away.
Teresa hands me the cold beer and looks up at me with a soft expression. Even if I could muster up any hatred over how much my father loves her instead of me, I couldn’t. Teresa is the epitome of an endearing Omega. There’s not an ounce of me that can blame her for this shit, though I’m truly not sure what she sees in that old bastard.
“It’s so good to see you. How was the ride over?”
“Not too long. I was in Jacksonville. Place hasn’t changed much,” I reply.
“Sometimes things might seem the same at first glance. But there’s been a lot of change around here,” she says, and I can’t tell if she’s trying to be coy with her meaning.
“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Suddenly a force is crashing into my side and wrapping their arms around my middle. An incredibly sweet-smelling force. She smells like coconuts and jasmine. I’m wondering why this Omega is latched around me like a koala bear when she finally pulls back. Deep pools of brown blink up at me.
“Lily?” I ask.
“Of course it’s me. It’s been so long since you’ve been home,” she gushes. It sure as fuck has. I didn’t even know she designated as an Omega, let alone that she looks like… this. Her dark hair is slightly wavy around her face, and her skin is a perfect golden shade, probably from spending her summer in the sun. It’s a fucked-up thought, but I can’t help thinking she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Ain’t that some shit? My cock is finally stirring after months and it’s over my goddamn stepsister. Not that I truly view her or even consider her my family. She ishisfamily, however.
“You, um…. grew up,” I say stupidly.
“Yes, well, that’s usually what people do. I didn’t know if you were coming. Are you thinking about patching over?” she asks, and I swear her expression is hopeful. I look over at Teresa and she’s giving me the same big, doe-eyed look. I need to get the hell away from these two, immediately.
“Maybe. I’m not sure what I want to do just yet,” I lie and take a step away from the two Omegas.
Lily smiles at me, and I take a heavy swig of my beer. Maybe I should leave. I could never join another club, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t still ride. Maybe I could live a simple life, settle down, get a normal job. The fantasy feels like flames burning in my chest, and I shake the thought away. I was born and bred for this life. There’s no turning back now.
“Is the Prez around?” I ask them both, refusing to say his name or call him my dad.
Lily’s brows furrow, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “He’s in the house,” she answers, tossing her thumb over her shoulder and pointing to a house I’m more than familiar with. As much as I might have major issues with my old man, I can admit that his tenure of being the Prez of the club is incredibly impressive. He’s held this place together for nearly two decades, and he’s now the last chapter standing. It makes me wonder how the fuck he does it, I shouldn’t start off by being a cynic, but something doesn’t sit right.
