It’s only in the past two and a half months that we brothers learned the truth. The fucker kept his emotions locked up tight over the years, refusing to be around the club or his mother. After he turned fourteen and Rocky found out she cheated, he paid more attention to the clubwhore Tiffany and his mama then focused back on Tank. Only this time, she tried to force her best friend’s daughter, Kate, on her son, seeing Kate as her own daughter. She didn’t care that her son fucked her best friend for three or four years before he met his girlfriend at college. His girl, whom none of us brothers knew about for two years, because the fucker lives off club property.
Jasmine Williams, the now senator's daughter who took over from that fucker Smith, had come back after she left without a word with a daughter in tow and admitted her mother and his threatened her and she didn’t trust him enough to stick around and speak to him, to ask for help.
They’re now trying to figure shit out because Tank can’t live without her, but shit isn’t easy, especially when he handed in his cut out of rage for two fucking months, pissing all us brothers off.
I look at Thunder's bike and sigh. The idiot spent two months injuring himself, hoping Tank would see him in the ER, not even knowing if Tank was working there. This last time, he went too far which I didn’t think he could after he had a clubwhore hit him in the head with her heels but she hit him with the wrong end—one got stuck, and he foolishly pulled it out and this time around, he drove his fucking bike into a brick wall, breaking his wrist and wrecking his bike in the process, which I’m beginning to think is beyond fixable at this rate.
I’ve been working on it for three hours, and honestly, the fucker is lucky he hasn’t killed himself.
“Some people just can’t afford a new car, brother, even a second-hand one,” I murmur as I eye Thunder's bent handlebars.
“Well, to be fair, brother, it’s your son's teacher's car, maybe she doesn’t make much money,” Tank suddenly says, getting me out of my head, and I look his way with a brow raise before eyeing the old ford that has to be at least the 1970’s.
Ms. Robins, my son's second-grade teacher, who started not long ago and who I have yet to meet on purpose.
My son has it in his head that we’re destined, which is why I’m pissed he’s become friends with the teacher's daughter, always wanting to be around Lyra’s house, begging me to take him.
“Is that so?” I confirm, my back is already getting up, not taking my eyes off the vehicle sitting inmyfucking garage.
Why would she bring her car here when there is a garage down the road from the school?
Fuck’s sake, did Caleb plan this?
Is she picking it up?
Every time her name is mentioned I fucking tense and the only reason why I can think of, is because Caleb wants me to date her which isnotfucking happening.
“Yep, her uncle brought it in. Or at least I think it’s her uncle or the kid’s uncle, I don’t know. Anyway, he wanted me to tell her the thing is undrivable,” he says with a chuckle.
I nod slowly, I already know who he is, having met him a few times when he’s dropped Caleb off after a play date.
“Is it?” I ask as I look his way, and he sighs as he shakes his head.
“Still drivable but on its last legs,” he admits, but before I can say anything, the door bangs open, and I silently groan as clacking heels echo, and I know it’s Cheryl.
Fucks sake my day just keeps getting better and fucking better.
Between Thunder’s fucking bike, Caleb’s attitude because I’m not taking and picking him up from school at the moment and now her popping up, I’m ready to call it a fucking day.
“Your son is refusing to come with me to the diner. I need you to have a word with him!” Cheryl demands, and Tank snorts while I roll my eyes without even looking her way to know she’s probably dressed like she’s ready to hit the town instead of spending time with my son.
“And I’ve told you several times, Cheryl, you flit in and out of his life when it suits you. If he says no, then it is a fucking no. So turn around and fuck off to whatever corner you’re working on today,” I mutter as I grab the grease tray and place it underneath Thunder’s bike while Tank gets back to working on Ms. Robins’s shit box, which I glare at.
For the first four years of Caleb's life, Cheryl wasn’t seen anywhere near him, shit, she didn’t even ask about him, instead, she continued to work at Rebel’s Honeys, but on a warning that if she failed a mandatory weekly drug test, then she’s out on her ass, and she stayed in her lane, until suddenly a therapist letter to a judge gained her supervised access, a fucking judge who had a hardon for my dad and wasn’t under the club's thumb.
Turns out Dad punched him over Mama, which, as far as I’m concerned, wasn’t worth it because Mama fucked the judge’s brother who was a prospect at the time. At one point he thought he was Ace’s uncle, something that has only just come to light after Mama had a go at Dad for telling someone what she did. It was his brother who was the one who fucked someone’s wife. The judge has hated Dad who ended up having to have a DNA test done to prove Ace was his all while Mama begged him not to leave her.
So now, Caleb sees Cheryl whenever it suits her, but with supervision, so the plan is for either Dad, Mama, or Ace to go with them, and Ace well, he’s refusing to speak to her.
If Caleb doesn’t want to go with the bitch, then he won’t. Every time she’s tried since she got back in touch—or more like stormed into the clubhouse with a cop and a smirk—he has declined and even though she’d protest, he wouldn’t budge. The cop that day said it’s up to the child because he didn’t know her which soon made her drop her smirk.
He’ll never want a relationship with her, and I think the bitch needs to open her eyes because she’s not going to be able to use him like she wanted to get my cut.
“He’s my son!” she snaps, and I mutter, “Who wants fuck all to do with you so fuck off, I’ve got work to do.”
Her breathing picks up and when I don’t look her way, she screeches, “I won’t let this slide!” before storming out, slamming the door with measure and I snort.
She’ll try going back to the judge but unfortunately for him, even with the hardon for Dad, he knows he can’t force Caleb near her.
