“Love you, Sailor.” This time, we have to go, Sailor to make good time for her hotel tonight, and me before dear old dad calls the cavalry in if I don’t get there before dark. Yep, I’m twenty-two, almost twenty-three years old, yet he still treats me like I’m six.
After that goodbye, I’m probably going to cry the whole way home and dread every minute of it, too. Sure, he’s not been there any other times I’ve made the trip back home, which was rare. There will come a time I’ll have to see him, and that time will come sooner rather than later. My eyes stay on Sailor’s car until it’s nothing but a dot in my rearview mirror, then my full focus becomes heading towards Ely. I’m scared of how things are going to go, if it’ll even feel like home anymore and what I’ll be doing once I get there in the way of work. I’ve spent the last four years floundering, not in the grades department—I piss excellence when it comes to school and being an overachiever. This would be the emotions and attempting to remain aloof, much like he has been towards me. I really should hate him with every depth of my being, except I don’t. The boy who’s grown into a man, which I’ve seen pictures of at Aunt Raven’s place. She had them plastered all over her house when I visited once, which really showed me just how much of a man he has become, not to mention now that he’s a member, he’s on the wall at the clubhouse. I’m beginning to realize he’ll be everywhere I go and maybe Ely isn’t the right place for me after all, even if it is my home.
CHAPTER 3
HAWK
I’m working in a garage bay on an old clunker helping one of the older ladies in town out with her ride. She’s on a fixed income, has no kids around, and her husband passed away years ago. Of course, this has my mom written all over it. When she called asking for a favor, there was no denying her. The other bays are full with some of the brothers, a few prospects, all of us working for the club in some manner of speaking. Some on the books and some off. Today, I’m not on a run, even though I kinda wished I were. You see, when Shovel forced my hand, it fucked up a lot of things around here, and, boy, can family hold a mean-as-fuck grudge. Aunt Persephone I knew would be the hardest to come around in that department. I wasn’t expecting Aunt Sadie to quit talking to me; that one about cut my heart right open. My parents stayed in my corner. The softness in Mom’s face and Dad pressing me into his side said it all, even if the truth was never told.
“Baby girl!” I hear Shovel’s loud bellow, knowing the woman who still owns my fuckin’ heart is home, fucking finally.
“You comin’ out?” Jax asks.
“Nah, gonna finish with Mrs. Mable’s car. She asked to have it back today.” Mom should be getting back here any time now. Her car didn’t need too much work—new brakes, her tires rotated, balanced, and aligned. I added in the oil change for free and topped off her fluids. I’ll have to make sure to wipe the bill of that, though, or she’ll feel obligated to pay for it.
“One day, you’ll tell me the truth behind the story. Always figured it was you two against the world. Reckon it still will be, one day.” Jax is an old soul, still a brother through and through, but his way of thinking is a lot like Dice’s, at least that’s what the other members have said.
“Not so sure about that.” He walks away, shaking his head, and I get back to work, the sounds of my ratchet gun working on the bolts of Mrs. Mable’s car the only thing I’m listening to, my mind completely blank, something I’ve learned to do over the years. It’s a hell of a coping mechanism. It also works when every man is bunkered down for the night and they’re sawing logs in their sleep. I’m one of the only younger guys who can tune them out.
The only reason I know that Ender is in my bay, eyes searing into the back of my head, is how I can feel her, always have and always freaking will.
“Yo.” I set down my gun, the air compressor kicking off, giving her the floor.
“I’m tired of this giant elephant surrounding us. I don’t want things to be awkward between us, making things difficult for our families. Can we just let this shit go?” Lavender is standing there in a slouchy shirt baring one shoulder, her dark hair tossed to one side, stick straight, pouty-as-fuck lips that I can remember the taste of so vividly, and legs encased in denim shorts that are fucking short.