“Fair enough,” Wade mutters. “But this shit is nuts, and you know it is. We’ve even talked about you being nuts. You seemed to have a handle on this crap with this woman.”
“I do. Why are you acting like a crybaby?”
Armor’s cold blue eyes lock onto my face. He’s a hard man to love. The younger guys respect him, but no one’s inviting Armor over for a beer. Those newer members weren’t around when we were growing up.
As kids, Armor and Goose were dirt poor. They went to bed hungry. Once they got older, they survived through stealing and the generosity of their friends. Their father wouldn’t let their mom sign up for free lunches, so Ruin and the rest of us would round up money to help the siblings stay alive.
Ed Macready was cool with handing over cash, but my parents would never help anyone unless it helped them. So, I would steal money from my mom’s purse. What did she really need it for, anyway? The only thing I saw her splurge on was trips to the salon to fix herself up for a man who’d long ago checked out of their marriage. Better for that money to go to my friends.
While Armor and Goose didn’t starve, living on the edge like that made them both hard inside. They don’t really trust anyone outside the club. Maybe that’s why he’s so hostile now about Landry.
“That first bitch fucked you over,” Armor spits out as he glances at my house. “I warned you how she was garbage, but you just blew me off. How can we trust you aren’t falling for the same crap from this new bitch?”
Exhaling hard, I crack my neck and try to restrain my temper. “I respect you too much to pound you into the ground, but I’ll still do it if you call Landry that again.”
“What if she fucks you over?” Armor asks, ignoring my threat. “What’s your backup plan here?”
“I don’t need one.”
Armor flashes his usual “mom on her last nerve” exasperated frown. “That woman’s pregnant and has a bunch of little kids, right? You can’t just throw them out onto the street. Do they have anywhere to go if your fantasy doesn’t come true?”
“If things don’t work out, I’ll ensure they’re set up. But that’s not a problem for right now, so fuck off.”
“You don’t even know her, Nomad,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as if I’m his idiot little bro that he’s always cleaning up after. “This shit is crazy. Why not move them somewhere else? You could get to know her and make sure it’s real before you bring her kids into your home.”
“I’ve already got their rooms set up here. Why would I move them somewhere else?”
Armor looks at me in that blank-ass way he does most people. Not cold like his usual expression, but like my stupidity has broken his fucking brain.
“What is this?” he finally asks, frowning now. “What are you doing with these people, Nomad? I feel like you need a fucking intervention.”
“You don’t have to get it. Maybe you just can’t. Shoving your cock in those club sluts at the Pigsty is enough for you, but I need more.”
Blinking quickly, Armor steps back like I’ve shared profound wisdom with him and he’s reconsidering the meaning of life.
“How do you know she isn’t like the bitch?”
Shaking out my shoulders, I don’t like being put on the spot about Landry. I’ve been second-guessing everything since last night. I can’t deal with others pointing out the flaws in my logic right now.
“There’s no fucking formula,” I mutter as I glance back at the house, where I picture Landry surrounded by her kids as she works on her list. “I have no proof that my calculations are right. It’s all my gut instinct. With Kati, I forced things and ignored shit that wasn’t real.”
“How do you know that’s not happening again?”
Though I consider letting silence be my response, I see the benefit of Armor understanding my situation.
“Months ago, I was at a low point. Nothing specific triggered me to feel so shitty. I was just fucking unhappy. I couldn’t sleep. All food tasted like crap. People annoyed me more than usual. So, I tried riding more, but that didn’t help. I got drunk and stoned, but the bad feeling didn’t change. I even tried fucking a bunch of chicks, but I couldn’t shake my depression.”
Exhaling hard, I hate admitting weakness, even to a man I’ve known for most of my life.
“Then, I saw Landry sitting with her kids on the curb at the local grocery store. They were sharing a candy bar. That’s what made me notice them. I was thinking about how fucking poor people are in that shithole town. I hated riding through Beehive Ridge, but I was restless and needed to roam.”
Recalling that day, I continue, “Something about Landry spoke to me. Her expression was so sad. Like how I was feeling was plastered on her face. Suddenly, she smiled at something one of the kids said. My gloomy fucking world lit up. That’s when I knew she was the one for me.”
Armor’s lack of reaction makes me feel like I have to defend myself more.
“I could tell she was pretty far along with a kid. I knew she was the mom of the ones with her. She wasn’t a young woman who would suck my dick and claim it tasted like sugar. Instead, she was a perfect creature, struggling yet still smiling. I wanted her then, and I want her now. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. She’s what I need.”
Armor watches me for what feels like forever. His expression doesn’t offer a clue to what he’s thinking. The man is hard on the outside. Not like me. I seem angry, always ready to snap. Armor’s got a cold outer shell. I respect how well he hides himself from the world.