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His annoyance is short lived, though, as his eyes trace over the contours of my bike and widen in fascination. The look of awe on his baby face has me fighting back a laugh. He meets my gaze as Raya steps out of the house and walks down the front steps.
“Can I go for a ride?”
I laugh. “You’re going to have to talk to your mom about that one, dude.”
“Absolutely not,” Raya chimes in as she joins us in the driveway, pulling her sweater tighter around her body. Joey lest out a heavy sigh, giving me the most dramatic eye roll I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Aw, mom.”
“Don’t start with me, mister,” she scolds, poking him gently in the shoulder as she fights back a grin of her own. “You’re way too young to be on a motorcycle.”
He huffs out his annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at the ground. “When I’m big, I’m gonna ride a motorcycle and you can’t stop me.”
“Fine,” she huffs back, quickly losing the battle to suppress her smile. “But right now, you’re little and I say you need to go finish your dinner. No arguments.”
He grumbles to himself but pivots his little body and begins trudging back up the driveway, to the steps and porch and finally back into the house as Raya and I look on, laughing.
“Oh, that boy is full of it tonight.”
I nod, turning to look at her. “Yeah, but how nice is it that this is your biggest problem now?”
“Honestly?” she asks, shaking her head for a second before a huge grin splits her face. “So fucking nice. I’ll take four-year-old rebellion any day of the week.”
I wouldn’t say that I know Raya all that well but from what little I do, she seems a hundred pounds lighter from this afternoon. She is smiling and relaxed despite the injuries all over her body.
“I heard the doc stopped by.”
She nods. “Yeah, she did.”
“She concerned about anything?” I ask, motioning to the fresh cut on her cheek that has been fixed up with butterfly bandages. She shakes her head.
“No. She said the cut was really just superficial and compared to everything else, she wasn’t at all concerned with it. Also said the older injuries seem to be healing nicely.”
I nod to myself, relieved that there wasn’t any more damage done today. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. Joey seems to be adjusting well, too, rebellion aside.”
“The fact that he feels safe enough to rebel is all the evidence I need that he’s doing just fine,” she says, her smile softer as she looks back up at the house. She looks almost serene and I’m just so fucking glad that despite the fact that Derek is still out there, she feels safe enough here to relax.
“Me too,” I say and when she glances back to me, I tilt my head to the cottage. “I’ll let y’all get back to your dinner but call me if you need anything.”
She agrees, wishing me good night before she turns and heads back into the house. I sit out front, watching until the door is shut and locked. My head turns and I scan the forest around the cottage, looking for any sign of a disturbance or anything out of place but there is nothing. Once I’m satisfied that they are good for the night, I turn my bike on and walk backwards out of the driveway. There is a cool breeze tonight that feels damn good after such a hot, muggy day and I decide to take the long way back to the clubhouse, savoring a few more moments of peace. Tiny little pebbles fly out from underneath my tires and the wind whistles through the trees lining both sides of the gravel road as I let the deep rumbling of the bike settle in my chest, easing just a fraction of my tension.
When I make it back to the clubhouse, I pull into the parking lot and slip in between Gear and Jumper’s bikes along the front of the lot before shutting down the engine and climbing off. There is music pumping through the walls of the place and I let out a deep sigh. Usually, I’m all for hanging out with the guys but I’m just not fucking up for it tonight and the last thing I want to do is get into a fight with one of my brothers just because I am already so on edge. As I turn towards the door, I spot a little red Mazda that I know all too well and my mood plummets even further.
Fuck me.
Leigh-Ann.
I met Leigh-Ann a few months ago when Gear, Jumper and I decided to head out to a bar in town to get away from the clubhouse for a night. We were four beers deep when Leigh-Ann and her best friend, Summer, walked in, looking for fucking trouble. Her eyes locked on mine almost immediately and she was hell-bent on pulling me and the boys out onto the dance floor. She was carefree and fun, something I desperately needed when the weight of the work we do starts getting to me. And before the night was over, we found ourselves up against the wall of the women’s bathroom for a quickie. I thought that would be the end of it but when she offered to meet up again sometime, I decided it couldn’t hurt.
How very fucking wrong I was.
Leigh-Ann and I have been hooking up consistently for a few months now and she’s gone from wanting something casual to damn near demanding more. Which is confusing since I told her the first night that we met that I’d never be her boyfriend. I made damn sure she knew not to expect anything from me and that this had an expiration date but it seems to have slipped her fucking mind lately. As a general rule, I don’t do relationships. Not because of some deep-seated trauma or some shit like that but simply because I’m not good at them. I’m an asshole, plain and simple, and that’s not the kind of man that women want to be with. My anger always gets the best of me and fucks up whatever it is that I’ve got going at the time so now, I don’t even try. It’s honestly not worth the fucking hassle.
Goddamn it.
I should have nipped this in the bud, ended things weeks ago when she started talking about me taking her out on a real date instead of just inviting her over for sex. Or started mentioning plans for things we could go do six months from now. But like I said, I’m not good at this shit.
Sighing, I scrub my hand down my face and roll my shoulders, trying desperately to get them to relax before I go in there and face her. My anger from earlier begins to bubble up again and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I have to end this. I know that. And yet, there isn’t a single goddamn part of me that wants to walk in those doors and have this conversation. It would be so much fucking easier if I could just kick her off the compound and be done with it but I know she’d keep coming back, demanding to be let in and causing a scene.