“Brothers.” Shovel nods to each of the men in the room, eyes locking on me, and I figure I’m in for a hell of a morning until he starts saying, “I fucked up, broke everyone’s trust in my life, my kid, my wife, my brothers, and even those I’ve known since they were in diapers. I’m not asking for forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. I’m gettin’ well on in my years, already know who will carry the gavel when the time comes, so if it’s taken today, I understand that, too.” Fuck me sideways. I had no idea he was going this route.
“I especially owe an apology to Hawk. You see, I asked him to let go of Lavender, sendin’ the whole club in a tailspin, lettin’ him take everythin’ on, and as a prospect. I should have taken it to the table. I’ll say one thing. It’s not easy raisin’ little girls. Furthermore, it’s hard to let them go. I wanted her to spread her wings, to not feel stuck. Boy, did I fuck up, though.” He sits down, the weight of the world literally on his shoulders.
“I’ll say my piece, and that’ll be it. I’m pissed as fuck at Shovel, who’s more than my Prez and brother. We got a bond thicker than blood. That don’t mean I’m not pissed as hell at him. That’s my boy he did that to, that’s also my boy who took it all like a man, and that’s my boy who will fix shit with Ender and come out on the other side. If we forgive Shovel, there’s only one way to do it. Once it’s done, it’s done,” Dad states We all know what that means.
“Shit, this doesn’t have to happen like this. I think he’s gonna go through enough without it.” That’s me trying to cover for Shovel. The man is going on sixty plus years old; there’s no reason for him to take a hit from every brother in the room.
“Only way. Been like this for generations,” Ruger responds next to me, already a forgone conclusion.
“Good, then my hit can come from Razor. No fuckin’ way am I gonna get my girl back only to lose her again because I took a slug at her dad.” I figure that’s the least I could ask for after being put through this shit.
“I’m good with that,” Dad says.
“Alright, givin’ the gavel to Razor to vote.” Shovel looks well past his years today, and if what the rumors say is true, Aunt Persephone kicked his ass out of the house.
“Everyone in favor say Aye.” The persona my dad is in is definitely that of the VP. There’s no emotion on his face, even though I know deep inside he’s got a war raging.
The chorus of Ayes is carried through the room. Shovel’s fate is sealed—a punch from each brother, and then the air is cleared, forever. Now if only it were this easy with Ender, minus the fuckin’ hitting someone, that is.
CHAPTER 12
LAVENDER
“Son of a bitch.” Mom and I are just getting out of my car. We went to look at apartments in town, seeing as how I start my job on Monday and have some cash saved up, plus Sailor and I got our deposit back, and our parents told us to keep it.
“What’s wrong?” I look at where she’s zoned in on.
“Stupid archaic dumbasses. I swear your father is going to be the death of me.” Dad’s been gone for one night, Mom has been miserable, and I’m over it all. It’s why the first decent apartment in a good part of town that was available is now mine.
“Holy shit.” All the guys are walking out of the clubhouse. My eyes go straight towards the man who held me all through the night without expecting anything, giving me the headspace I needed.
“Yep, all these years later, and even though some things I’ll never understand about the club life, your dad still has it going on.”
“Oh God, Mom, that’s so gross. Why did Daisy have to move to another freaking continent? I could seriously use some sister power at this point.” It sucked that she made the decision to study in Spain, though I get it. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss the crap out of her. We’re complete opposites, Daisy being the free spirit to my needing a planner and some form of structure. We’ve called, texted, emailed, video chatted every day, it seems. She’s the only other best friend I have besides Sailor. The only problem is she wants nothing to do with the club life, and if it’s brought up, I’m quick to change the subject so we don’t argue about it. Life is too short to be miserable. If she feels the need to stay away, I’ll support her and bite my tongue, though I still need to make a trip out to see her. I’m attempting to plot how I could swing that while starting a new job when Mom interrupts, “You should probably call her. She misses you, you know.”