Except Country Boy and his family. I’ll never be able to repay them for the way they embraced me at such a vulnerable time in my life. The older we got, the more Country Boy was determined to turn around the words that used to cut me deep. He taught me to embrace being the riffraff.
Stud took me in as a lost young man trying to find my place in life. The Hellions, the entire club not just our charter embraced the broken in me. This club saved my soul. Piece by piece they put back every shattered inch of me. Sure, I’ll be the riffraff. I will be whatever name anyone can cook up in their brain for me. Trash, trouble, or a fucking tyrant, only those close to me get to know the truth, my truth. I’ve found the people closest to me, understand the circumstances. They see I’m not proud of taking a life. But I also won’t ever deny I’d do it again. Only I would have taken him out sooner if it meant I could save my sister. Most people see the man I am today; they know the depths of which my loyalty runs. Most people once they get beyond the initial shock embrace the precarious situation I was in.
Including Josie.
Telling the story always brings up feelings for me. The years have passed but the pain has not. Anytime I’ve told a woman about my past, the fear always flashes in their eyes before coming to terms with what I did.
Not with Josie, though. There was no hesitation. No moment of doubt for her well-being. Going through what she has, sure she doubts herself and men, but she didn’t doubt me. The connection, I felt it. She embraced my pain. I’ve never had anyone want to carry the weight alongside me. Does she understand I want to carry her weight too? That’s what makes a relationship, taking on the good and the bad of the other person.
Strolling over, I bring the croissants with me as I knock on her front door. She opens and I instantly lean down kissing her. She’s getting ready for work with curlers in her hair. I find myself smiling at the sight.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I greet.
“Well good morning to you, Dean,” she mutters with a smile.
“It’s a damn good morning now, seeing you, beautiful.”
She pats my chest playfully moving from the doorway to let me inside. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Dean.”
Reaching out, I give her ass a squeeze as Justice comes around the corner, “Dean, mom got Pop Tarts. You want one?”
I move the pastry box in my hand in front of him. “Brought croissants, chocolate, raspberry filled, and the unicorn one with sprinkles.”
He jumps with excitement. “Better than Pop Tarts! Mom, can I have one, please?”
“They aren’t mine to give out, son. But I’m sure Dean brought one for you.”
“I brought two. One for breakfast and one for a snack later,” I tell him and watch his eyes light up with joy.
To be a kid again. The time in life when innocence in life hasn’t tainted everything. The window of existence when there is happiness in the small things, like an overly sweet, frosted, croissant for breakfast rather than something nutritional.
Moving into the kitchen, I set the box down and go about fixing us each a plate and glass of milk. We settle in casually together and I find myself at ease. For the first time in a long time my brain isn’t running a mile a minute with the next task.
Unfortunately, we can’t spend the day at home since Justice has school and Josie has work. I follow her as she drops him off and to work giving her a wave as I pull off once she’s safely inside the door.
Brett has a new relationship. Whether it’s serious or not, I don’t know. What I do know he’s been busy courting this new woman and it’s kept him away from Josie and Justice. It’s a woman from his hometown in West Virginia. The distance keeps him traveling back and forth. Even though I find it fucked up that he brings his new girlfriend to Josie’s house like it’s his own when she comes to town, I can’t do anything about this right now. One problem at a time. Our attorney is looking into their judge for asset distribution along with how to prevent Brett from dragging this out any longer.
Pulling up to Honey’s shop, Miles leans on the railing of the little front porch area tapping his watch. I run my hand over my beard, exhaling heavily. Typically this would irritate the shit out of me to be off schedule and deviate from my planned project time. Today though, it doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I’d do it again. I hate that I made plans and held him up. But to have breakfast with Jo and Justice, I’ll be late every damn day.
“I know I’m late,” I tell him before he can speak.
“You look like a man with a problem,” he mutters as we enter the shop to see Anthony sitting at the front desk. “You’re never late.”
“Ain’t got a problem I can’t fix.” I turn my attention to Anthony, Stud’s son, “Hey Boots, my carburetor come in?” he nods before looking to the box on the counter beside him.
I take the box and making my way down the hall and outside over the garage. Miles has a 1956 Ford Thunderbird in desperate need of a new carburetor. Honey said she would change it out for him, but she’s been backed up because, Tom, their other mechanic is out on vacation. I have a break in my schedule with Mile’s home too, figure it was a great time to pop over and change this out for him.
Dixon “Miles” Hardison teeters the line between being an officer here in Salemburg and going Nomad with Smoke. He’s our treasurer and a solid brother. He doesn’t like to feel stuck. Therefore, he takes off on a whim to parts unknown. Wherever the road takes him until he feels the pull to come back home.
Although, this project car has gotten his attention longer than any woman, any bike, and any ride so far. I have to say I’m impressed with his dedication to a car that is pretty miserable to drive. It’s a tight space for a man my height and build. The two-seat convertible doesn’t have room to move even if it’s fun to drive.
“Wanna talk about it, brother?” He asks as I put on gloves and move to the engine bay. We already removed the previous carb to expedite the process today.
“Nothin’ to talk about.” I reply unboxing the part.
“Bullshit.” He eyes me seriously as we lean over the engine. “You claim Jo. Things seem better on her situation as her ex seems to have moved on. You’re late today.”
“You stalkin’ me?”
