Page 3

Atlas

“T hat’s not a regular human being, baby bro. That’s a force of nature. Beautiful. Sweet. Kind. Smart. A rocking body and a kick-ass mind.” Outside, Georgia leans in against me and shoves her elbow into the meat just below my ribs. “Are you sure you’re just friends?”

Georgia lives in Seattle and it’s only an hour away, but her job pretty much consumes her. She takes teaching seriously because it’s her passion. Personally, I’d rather go up against a room full of the world’s most hardened criminals than have to be responsible for keeping a bunch of ten year olds alive, but she loves it. Her job keeps her so busy that she rarely gets out to Hart except for holidays, and this is the first time she’s met Willa.

When Georgia got here, she beat our parents, but she didn’t let that deter her. She slipped inside to catch a glimpse of Willa, then immediately parted the crowds to get to me. I was helping work the grills, but she demanded that I show her around the store. Battle Axe, Odin, Tyrant, and Raiden, were only too happy to let me go. They brought grills as well, but Raiden did me a solid and promised he’d cover mine.

Bullet and Lynette showed up an hour before the official opening at noon, and were closely followed by most of my club brothers. Bullet’s been standing guard at the door to prevent any theft, since Willa can’t keep eyes on the entire store. Though Bullet is here helping with security, Wizard is back at the club monitoring the cameras around the store from every angle. He wired the whole place up, but after today, he’ll teach Willa how to hook them to her computer. He can’t possibly take on one more job. I’m not sure how he doesn’t lose his mind as it is.

Everyone from the club is here except Wizard and a few of the prospects who had to stay back on guard duty.

I stare longingly at the grills lining the front sidewalk along the freshly laid grass that will hopefully soon become a vibrant lawn.

Georgia isn’t going to let me resume flipping burgers and churning out hotdogs until she’s debriefed me. Her patience is legendary, but apparently not when it comes to Willa.

“Everyone seems to think that we’re more, but we’re not. It’s weird how no one wants to believe the truth. I wonder if we should try reverse psychology.”

“That sounds like it would be a bunch of trouble.” Her eyes flick over to Bullet by the door. He’s not so scary, not compared to some of the other guys. He has less visible ink and scars, but his huge beard and all black attire give him some serious tough biker vibes. “But you do know that if you wanted to date someone again, you could. Getting hurt sucks, but sometimes things do actually work out.”

“You’ve had one relationship, and the guy was a tool bag.” I still wish I could hunt down Hepner Radcliffe to rearrange his limbs. I met the guy once a few years ago, when Georgia was finishing up her degree in Seattle. He was an asshole then and he treated my sister like shit. After he cheated on her, he wisely disappeared.

“One relationship, yes. That doesn’t mean that I’ve been a saint. I just choose not to talk about it.”

What the fuck? Now my protective brother instincts are screaming for blood. “I need an immediate list. Right now. Names. Addresses. What their greatest and oddest fears are so that I can haunt them.”

Georgia rolls her eyes. They’re darker than mine, bordering on indigo. She has no idea that it’s her beauty that intimidates guys into not even being able to talk to her or ask her out. Thank fuck. “And you wonder why I like to keep my business to myself.”

“Any and all boyfriends shouldn’t just pass the brother test. They should pass my club brother test too.”

Her laughter tells me that she’s not taking me seriously, even though I mean it. “You don’t need to worry about me. Just because I’m not two hundred and some pounds of muscle doesn’t mean that I can’t take care of myself.” She studies my face long and hard. “Besides, everyone knows the squishiest parts of a person are on the inside and that makes you no less vulnerable than me.”

“I’m happy you’re here.” I’m shit at deflecting, but Georgia allows it. For now. “You need to come back more often. Seattle’s only an hour away.”

“An hour? No. There’s always at least three hours of sitting in traffic to even get out of the city. It’s hard when I work Monday to Friday and have to spend all weekend prepping lessons and marking.”

“It’s summer. Come camp out at Mom and Dad’s.”

“Maybe for a few days.”

The store hours are noon until five Tuesday to Friday, open all day Saturday, closed Sunday and Monday. Georgia told me first thing that she’s staying until Monday morning since our parents begged her to make it a family dinner tomorrow night. It’s not lost on me that they pointedly also invited Willa.

“Willa’s going to go out picking tomorrow.” She’s already asked me if I want to come with her. Code for, ‘will you come and do the heavy lifting and nasty sifting, battle rabid raccoons and evil spiders’ for me?’

“Ahh. And you’re absolutely going.”

“She’s going to pay me for my time. I don’t have to ride in her truck either. I can follow behind on my bike. She’s still freaked out about the size of the truck and backing the trailer up and stuff like that, so I should be there to help her.”

“Are you telling me this because you want to drive home just how much you sound like the sweetest couple ever, or because you want me to come with you?”

I treat my sister to a sigh that comes from the very bottom of my exhausted soul. She just grins in response. “I thought you might like to come.”

“Because you’re secretly in love with Willa and looking for family approval?”

Cue sigh number two with a hint of dramatic flair. “Because everyone could always use more friends. She’s a nice person. So passionate about all the old junk. She loves the most horrific things. You should see this devil monkey she has behind the counter in there. It’s going to join her collection of dolls that are always watching.”

Georgia claps her hands. “I’ll have to go back in and ask to see it. I was debating about a few of those paintings for the condo. It’s a travesty that I moved in a year ago and the walls are still mostly bare. If she has time, which I doubt she will, I would love to see her creepy dolls.”

“Come picking tomorrow and you’ll probably find something a whole lot cheaper, although I’m sure Willa would give you the family discount.” I wince as soon as I say it. I might look like a big dumb jock who only knows endless lists of football stats and walks around reliving high school glory days, but I normally think before I speak. “You could ask to see her collection of weird stuff before we go out. She has the horror show upstairs in her apartment.”

One of Georgia’s light blond brows arches up.

Fuck. Walked straight into a trap again.

“I’m her landlord,” I remind her. “I also renovated the whole place and that included spending hours hanging art and putting up shelves for her collections because I’m a good friend and I can take one for the team like that.”

Georgia never was the kind of older sister who laid into her two poor little brothers. We had an unspoken truce, as well as real affection when we were older. Even as young kids, Clem and I didn’t torment her—much—and she was never bossy. She lets the Willa line of questioning drop.

“Picking sounds kind of fun.”

“There might be raccoons and rats. Mutated ones, she’s got this thing for roadkill taxidermy.”

She shuffles in place like she’s in a hurry to get going right this second. “I grew up here, you know. I’m not technically a city girl. I know the rats and raccoons are just regular ones. And anyway, as long as you offer yourself as a sacrifice first, I think it should be alright. It sounds sort of fun to go through piles of treasure.”

“I think you mean junk.”

“I’m sure Willa would have your balls for calling it that.”

“Nah. She hears it often enough. It’s a standing joke now. As for the raccoons, I promise I’ll always be your first line of defense.”

“My realistic stipulation is that you let me ride behind you on your bike. Not because I’m afraid to talk to Willa the whole way, but because I spend my days teaching fifth graders. I want some adventure in my life.” She reads my hesitation wrong. “Don’t say that Mom and Dad would freak. You and Clem shouldn’t gatekeep on the exciting danger.”

“It’s not that. My bike only seats one.”

“No it doesn’t!” She crosses her arms. “Since when?”

“Since I sold the other. Last year.”

“Oh. After…”

“Yeah.” After Jodie . I didn’t like the reminder of it. Too many memories. I’d been toying with getting something classic and restoring it. On one of Willa’s picks, I found an old Harley just sitting under someone’s tarp in a barn. A forty-four Harley WLA. “I’m riding a bike I restored.” I point towards the sidewalk, at the current love of my life. The bike sits proudly parked along the row of others belonging to my club brothers. Her flat green paint doesn’t glisten in the sun. She’s not all chrome and shiny metal. With her camel colored leather seat and saddle bags, she looks like she’s been transplanted straight from history. She stands out from all the others because she’s nothing like them. “She’s glorious, isn’t she?”

“Looks uncomfortable,” Georgia deadpans.

“Maybe a little, but her soul makes up for it. She deserves to be ridden.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to do something like that. Sure, you’ve been working at the club’s garage for years, but I thought you just did cars.”

I can’t help but beam with a small amount of pride. “Pretty much. But the internet is great, and there are guys there that have been doing mechanics for decades. They helped me.”

“You should restore another and put it into shows or something. You could make a nice business for yourself that way.”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m now a landlord.” I sweep my hand over the massive brick building. “Property only begets more property.”

“Sage, little bro. But in all seriousness, I’m glad to see you happy again. We always used to bug you about being the golden child in the family. We’re all golden children, but you deserve to have the sun shine on you. Jodie was… she was kind of difficult, you know?”

A pang shoots through my chest so brutal that I nearly reach up to bang it away like people thump their chest after accidentally swallowing water wrong. My family loved Jodie for my sake, or at least they made a real effort to. It didn’t matter to them that she’d been a dancer when I met her in Seattle, or that I was smitten from the first. I thought it was love at first sight, but a few months ago, my mom asked me if that’s really what it was. I had to admit, with the pain and power of hindsight, that it might have been more lust than love and turned into me trying real hard to make something work when it was never destined to be a true relationship.

“Yeah.” I toe the grass while the crowd around us grows, as people drive up to park, or walk up in pairs and groups.

I took Jodie right off that stage and set her on the back of my bike. I thought we were riding off into the sunset, but sunsets don’t last forever. There’s real life to be lived, and it was tough for her. She wasn’t ready to settle down with someone. She talked about babies, but only because she needed a child to save her. To save us. I knew that, but I damn well would have given her whatever she wanted.

Maybe the universe was trying to save me from making a terrible mistake by fucking with my body.

“Mom was really worried about you. She’s never share private conversations you guys had, but we’ve been hurting with you .” Georgia’s compassion sinks into my bones. Her eyes search my face for some sign that I’m okay.

For months after, I was sure that the best parts of me left with Jodie. I was hollowed out and going through the motions, numbing myself so that I didn’t have to feel the rage and pain.

“It’s hard to be a shell forever when you’re surrounded by guys who give a real shit about you.” Guys who have been through far worse and come out the other side. Even if they don’t say anything, you just know they’ve got you, and that means something.

“You seem happier. Like you’re not just faking it. You suck at that, by the way. At Christmas, we could all tell that you weren’t yourself.”

“No you couldn’t. I was fine at Christmas.” If only they knew.

I was not fine at Christmas. I have never been fine. There’s regular people and then there’s me. By age fucking ten I knew that something was wrong. The way the world seemed to close up and become a dark and scary place for no reason at all. I was surrounded by love, but I still felt nauseous all the time. I’ve lived with anxiety for so long that the near constant adrenaline, lack of sleep, the churning stomach, and the racing thoughts that match my unsettled heartrate are like a second skin. That’s my real home. I have no notion of what it is to be normal, but I’ve never wanted my family to worry about me. That’s not the only reason I got good at pasting a smile on my face and turning my life into something of a facade, but it was the start. and it snowballed from there.

“Simon.” She pointedly uses my given name.

As far as I’m concerned, my family can call me whatever they want. We’re one of those rare families who didn’t wind up hating each other. There were rough patches here and there, but we’ve stuck together, and they’ve earned the right to the name they knew me as for most of my life.

“I thought Jodie took my heart, my hopes, my dreams, and my ability to ever be truly happy or love again,” I admit on a grunt. Sometimes it’s easier to give part of the truth so that no one will ever look beneath that to the festering wounds underneath.

“But the wounded parts have started to close up?” she asks hopefully.

“It’s been almost a year.”

“Time might heal things, but I think it’s all relative. Some people might need a decade.”

I shake my head firmly. “I’m doing better. I can admit that the parts that make love last weren’t there.” Physically, we always worked, but maybe that’s exactly why we couldn’t work in the end. You need more than that to cement you together.

I’m very blessed to have a wonderful family, a biker family, and a town full of good friends at my back. I know that I’m blessed and despite the shit that eats away at me most days, I know that it’s nothing compared to what others have had to survive.

Most of the guys in the club haven’t had a tenth of what I’ve been given, but they’ve endured.

“Mom!” Georgia suddenly shouts, blasting me right in the ear. “Dad!” She waves frantically through the crowd which has probably swelled to five times what it was at noon, though it’s probably not even one yet.

My chest does some welling of its own. I’m happy the town turned out for Willa. Hopefully, she makes some sales today and they aren’t just coming for the prospect of free burgers, but even if that’s true, it’s still great publicity. The local radio stations will probably both stop by later.

Wizard helped Willa run an advertising campaign online, and my club brothers put up grand opening flyers all over the city like they usually do for our clubhouse cookouts. Between that and word of mouth, news seems to have reached every part of Hart.

The crowd is a mix of young and old, and comprised of people from all walks of life. Ella probably recruited the entire college to come. Crow’s old lady Tarynn works at a salon now and likely told each and every person who walked in the door. Lark worked her magic with Penny’s teachers and the parents. What she couldn’t cover, Raiden probably handled. Raiden and Lark, as well as Tyrant, are as homegrown as me, but we went to different schools and know different people. I myself have spread the word every chance I got, and I’ve had chances for six months.

“Come on! Mom and Dad will want you to show them around inside!” Georgia grabs my elbow and eagerly tugs me through the sea of bodies.

My throat closes up, but I force myself to take a few deep breaths. It’s not the amount of people here that triggers the sensation. I have no triggers. The panic that sometimes completely debilitates me is completely random. It strikes without warning. Not only have I become good at hiding the anxiety, but I’m really good at pretending that I don’t have panic attacks. That might seem impossible, but it’s not.

Except if I had one now.

I couldn’t exactly feign that I’d run too hard or got the wind knocked out of me.

The sun is bright and hot overhead. I suppose sunstroke could be an option. I know this is fucking pathetic. Believe me, nothing gives me more anxiety than knowing that I’m not in control of the anxiety.

I don’t even get a chance to open my mouth after a round of hugs, before Mom starts asking about dinner tomorrow night. Have I asked Willa? Is she coming? Does she like beef roast? What kind of dessert does Georgia want her to make?

My dad stands there and lets her get it out of her system, the softest look of love on his face, even after all these years, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back in unspoken communication that he’s there .

I can’t say I appreciated my parents love all that much growing up. As a kid, I often was pretty immature about it, but as a grown man, I’m learning. I watch. I listen. I soak it in with different eyes. They’ve been together for twenty-nine years, and that’s no small deal.

“Mom!” I cut off her endless questions, laughing. I often have to act because of the fact that I’m not ‘normal,’ but I feel good today. Despite the crowds, despite having to jam myself into Willa’s truck this morning, despite the stress of getting everything ready for today, the heavy sensation that usually sits hard on my shoulders is a much lighter mantel. “Let’s go inside. We’ll look around and you can ask Willa anything you need.”

“Oh.” Mom waves her hand, but what she really wants is for me to convince her. “I don’t want to bother her. She’s probably busy.”

“She is busy, but she’ll be so happy to see you and talk to you.”

“She’s the best, Simon. Just an absolute sweetheart.” My mom, like Georgia, isn’t exactly subtle.

My throat thickens and something in my chest burns. I know they’re right, but it’s not that simple. What Willa and I have is a good thing. Losing Jodie crushed me but breaking the trust the guys—especially Bullet—have put in me, as well as possibly fucking things up and ruining a friendship that has been responsible for getting me through the hardest time of my life and bringing me through to the other side, isn’t an option.

Feelings are messy. They’re dangerous.

Even if I could untangle mine, Willa’s her own person. A force of nature, Georgia called her. That’s pretty much the truest description I’ve ever heard.

Then there’s the fact that some days, I tend to wig out and even though those are the bad ones, the good ones are still generally baddish. How would it be fair to saddle someone else with that? I tried to tell Jodie, and she told me exactly what I already thought. That no grown man should be this weak. I never really thought of myself as pathetic until she used that exact word.

“I know, Mom,” I mumble.

Alongside Georgia, we thread through the crowd to take my parents inside. They’ve already walked this building countless times throughout renovations, but they haven’t seen it all put together, and though this is Willa’s day, that swell of pride swamps my chest again.

It’s not just the parts that I’m responsible for, like the construction and grunt work, but how my club brothers and their families made this a reality. And above all, at how the dreams and hard work of a woman, beautiful in every way, culminated in this incredible day.

I get another twinge in my chest, this one unwelcome, but I refuse to let anything ruin this. I’ve become a master at breathing, though subtly, and I do that now, smiling as I exhale and using my natural charm on the inhales so that no one would ever suspect that the golden boy is so, so tarnished.