Seizing my chance before today’s over, I kiss Abby as if it’s our last.
Even though it’s our first.
The first of thousands.
Millions of kisses and more that I have planned for her.
But as much as it’s what I know we’ve both longed for, it’s not enough and there’s no way I can stay as well as Tasha. Not to mention the houseful of rugrats she’s already in charge of.
Which makes me wonder if my house will be empty when I get home.
If I even go home.
Might still have a houseful of bikers, or just the mess they’ve left behind?
I’ve compromised, telling Abby I’ll still keep watch, but only until her mom gets home.
And I explain I’ll only be apart from her until morning.
I make a quiet exit, but can’t help and hang back a little. Noticing Tasha’s voice again.
Yeah, it’s eavesdropping. But I’m looking out for both of ‘em.
My girl and my girl.
Tasha asks after me, sounding relieved when Abby tells her I’ve left.
They make some small talk before moving to the kitchen and I walk past that window on my way back to my bike.
“So, what did happen with your mom? When you were little, I mean?” I can hear Abby asking Tasha.
It’s like a knife in my gut when I hear it mentioned, and I don’t stick around to hear the story.
If Tasha even tells the story, who knows?
I know it well enough.
It’s what landed me in prison, made me split from the club, and eventually split with Tasha’s mom for good.
But it's ancient history now. And I’m looking with both eyes toward the future, not the past.
A future with Abby and me.
Plus baby would make three.
But another kid at forty-two years old? Isn’t that a little too old?
Not where Abby’s concerned.
She said so herself, I don’t look my age and whenever she’s around I certainly don’t feel forty anything.
Tasha is my first daughter, and I’ll always love her. Always be her dad. She’s grown up now, and soon she’ll be wanting a family of her own, like Abby.
Abby does want kids, right?
Note to self: make sure Abby actually wants a family, and that it’s not just your desires you’re projecting.
It’s probably a good thing I made my retreat when I did.
I’ve only been standing by my bike for about an hour before Abby’s mom pulls into her driveway. About the same time, a local patrolman asks me what it is I’m doing on his beat.
With a clenched jaw and even tighter jeans, I head home.
Unable to think about anything else except Abby.
My surprise when I get home?
The whole place, including my studio and shopfront, has been meticulously cleaned.
The whole place is spotless, save for my garage which every biker knows is a no-go zone when it comes to other people touching shit.
There’s a crude note pinned to the front door and before I even see their handiwork I’m wished a happy birthday again by my old club.
It’s signed by Brick, who I figure must’ve sobered up a little he stumbled into Abby and me, but these guys.
It’s what we do. What we’re made of. Helping out a brother whether he asks for it or not, and never saying sorry.
But making right when things are set wrong for whatever reason.
Apology accepted, Brick. And thanks, you old bastards.
See you next year.
Making my way into the kitchen, which I almost don’t recognize, it's so clean, I set about making something to eat. Telling myself I need strength for what's to come.
The large portrait of Abby and Tasha catches my eye though, and before I do anything else, I know exactly where to hang it.
Right by the front door in the hallway opposite my bedroom door.
That way at least I can see Abby first thing when I come home, as well as keep an eye on her from my bed tonight.
Hopefully, this is my last night alone too.
It still feels so wrong to just leave her at home like that. But she has her mom, and Tasha to keep her safe until I can claim her as my own.
Which all seems simple enough in my mind.
Just tell her how I feel, kiss her again and then take her home forever, right?
A quick glance at my daughter in the photo tells me otherwise. But the coming fallout is nothing compared to the reward.
Tasha will come around to the idea, I know she will. It’s her best friend for god’s sake.
The exact same reason why I shouldn’t even be thinking what I’m thinking, let alone doing what I’m about to do with Abby.
Feeling better knowing I at least have a picture of her, I find myself ravenous and set to work demolishing the contents of the refrigerator.
I’m a big eater, and maybe a lot of my decisions today have been low blood sugar ones.
Decisions like leaving Abby unattended by me personally.