Page 4

Chewy

M y head beats a gentle pulse and I’m sure my eye is twitching.

“Chewy, I commend what you’re doing, but you either need to finish up or kill her because I can’t listen to her whining any longer,” Moss’s voice crackles through the ear piece.

I grunt in reply, not wanting her to know that I have people with me. Lying in wait caught her by surprise and I’ve been using that to my advantage. However we are now two hours in, she’s pissed herself god knows how many times, and between the ugly crying and moments of bravery where she threatens me, she’s been whining. Almost nonstop.

“Where are the kids?”

Candice sobs from the chair she’s tied to, not even trying to fight her way out. Useless bitch. “I told you, I can’t tell you that! Just let me go, please, I won’t tell anyone you’re here. You’re hurting me! My wrists hurt, let me go, you bitch!”

A long, loud sigh leaves my body, “Candice, I really didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice,” I shake my head sadly at her, dragging my backpack closer to where I’m sitting, opposite Candice. In an arm chair that is fucking hard as a rock.

“What more could you do to me?” she whines. “You’ve already tied me up, I can’t even feel my fingers! You cut my hair and ripped off my eyelash extensions, you’re a monster!”

“Well, brace yourself, it’s gonna get worse for you.” I grin as I pull the jar out of my backpack, grinning at Candice’s scream and pleas.

“No, no, no, no, no! Get it away from me!” She’s squirming in her chair, the cords of her neck showing her effort.

“A little birdy told me you don’t like spiders.” I hold the jar closer and Candice freezes on the spot, her breathing shallow.

“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll put Hermann away.” Yes, I named him Hermann. He’s a cute little hairy guy, for a Texas Tan Tarantula.

“I-I-I’ll tell you. Just, p-please, p-p-put him away. Please!” There’s tears mixing in with her snot and I think I feel sorry for her. No actually, I’m lying. I don’t feel sorry for her at all. She made her bed, now she has to lie in it. Which is a weird saying, but I’ll think about that later.

I make a show of placing Hermann on the coffee table off to the side of where we’re sitting.

“Spill.”

* * *

“Good to go?” Moss asks, from his position behind the driver’s wheel of Truck Norris.

“Yup. Candice is bagged and tagged and I gave her a little sleepy time juice so she’ll be out for a while yet.”

He side-eyes me for a moment, “Were you always planning on using the spider?”

“Well, yeah, she has arachnophobia.” I shrug, entering the location of the children into GPS. “Fear is one of the best motivators.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you use it from the get go? I wanted to throw myself in the nearest lake and drown myself listening to her bitch.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Moss lets out a long sigh, “You know what? Let’s just find your kid and get out of here. The longer I spend with you, the more sense you make.”

I grin in his direction and I see his lips tilt up a little. He’s a good-looking guy, but there must be something very wrong with him if his wife left and he’s still single. Although he does have kids and I bet that shrivels up people’s vagina’s. Not all ladies like kids. Or kids that don’t belong to them at least. My brows pull in when I realize that Rhodie’s child won’t be related to me. Or him.

My thumb taps my pinky, then the ring finger, middle, pointer and pinky again, repeating the pattern as I sort through my thoughts. On one hand it’s a statistical fact that most child abuse is at the hands of a step-parent. But on the other hand, there are people willing to adopt, or foster, and love children that don’t belong to them and they seem to get on fine. Mama Debs isn’t related to Ana, or any of us really and I know that she loves us from her actions. Wire and Remy aren’t genetically related to Jovie but they love her with all their hearts. Tav isn’t related to any of Blanche’s kids but they call him dad and he would die for them all. Same as Violet with Juno. The evidence would suggest that many people can successfully love and raise children who don’t belong to them.

My finger tapping slows and I feel better about what I’m about to do.

“Are you waiting for backup?” Moss’s question pulls me from my thoughts.

Peering through the windscreen I notice Agent Dansen, his SUV and a large van parked on the side of the road. “Oh yeah, I called them when I got the address. They’re going to take the kids to be monitored at the hospital and then find their parents.”

“What about the kid we’re looking for?”

“Manwitch said they’d been in foster care since their parents died. Besides, she has a family waiting for her back in Rose Grove.”

He eyes me for a moment before he bobs his head side to side. “Well, I guess if the paperwork is clear, have at it.”

“Wait, you’re not going to read me my rights or accuse me of kidnapping or something?”

“Would you listen if I did?”

“Not at all.”

He snorts. “Then I’d be wasting my time, wouldn’t I? Besides, I’ve seen some shitty parents, and you and Rhodie are not them. You can offer more than I think even you know, Chewy.”

I turn to look at him, driving down the dark highway, with the FBI team following us to our destination. “I like you. We’re going to be friends.”

“I can’t think of a better person to have as a friend, Chewy. But maybe stay away from my kids for a few years, I’m not ready to have shit blowing up in my yard just yet.”

“It was like, three times, Moss.”

“Whatever you say, Chewy.” He tries to hide his smile, but I see it.

“Just drive, Moss.” My lips tug up and I’m happy to have a new friend.

I’m getting good at this friendship stuff. Motherhood will be a breeze.

Rhodie

This is hell. It has to be. Somewhere between the clubhouse and whatever the fuck this open late big box store is called, I died. I died and went straight to hell. It’s the only logical explanation to why I’m following seven Ol Ladies and two of Vi’s sisters around pushing a cart that is filled to the brim with small people crap.

“I can’t take much more,” Rider groans beside me.

“Why the hell are you here anyway? You don’t have an Ol Lady dragging you into being here,” I frown.

“I came to talk shit at you while you died a little inside. Instead, I’m dying with you. My feet are fucking killing me, and what is all this shit anyway?” He holds up some type of stuffy that looks kinda like an axolotl and a unicorn had a baby before dropping it in disgust.

“Right,” Lovely says, her clap drawing my attention, “Because the only thing we know about your child is the fact that she’s a girl, we’ve decided to get one of every age range, and then we can return the stuff she can’t fit.”

I watch through wide eyes as she throws about 12 little bathrobes into the buggy, all pink, one in each size.

“Ah, Lovely, is that really necessary?”

“Necessary?” Blanche screeches from an aisle somewhere, making both Rider and I jolt. “Is it necessary that the little girl Chewy brings home, a little girl with no family and who has nothing to her name, gets a soft, fluffy bathrobe to fit her?” She moves to stand in front of me, poking her long, bony finger into my chest. “Think about it Rhodie!” she growls through clenched teeth before storming off to a clothing rack within my sight line, grabbing one of every size, and color, while holding my eye contact.

“Blanche! Don’t scare him. Rhodie can’t help that he’s never looked after any of the MC kids because he’s always so busy. He doesn’t know what all kids need,” Mira says helpfully.

Except it’s not helpful because she’s fucking right. Outside of Chomper, who could probably eat me in my sleep, I’ve never, not once offered to keep an eye on the kids. I mean I’ve done school run, but 10 minutes with them strapped into the car and the music blaring is probably not enough experience.

“Uh oh, it’s just hit him,” Remy whispers, staring at me. Is she holding a dildo?

“No I’m not, you creep!” She swings at me with some nude-colored club.

“Wait, what’s hit me?”

“You’ve just realized that you know nothing about kids.” Nat smiles, holding hands with her ol man who has an empty buggy the Ol Ladies are making a beeline for.

I stare at her, give her the look that makes grown men shit their pants and she still doesn’t back down. I would argue but she’s right. I know nothing about kids. How the fuck am I meant to be a dad?

A large hand lands on my shoulder, giving a tight squeeze. “Go take a walk brother,” Savage’s blue gaze meets mine, before he gives me a shake and shoves me down the aisle, to walk off whatever the fuck is happening to me.

I wander aimlessly for a while, somehow ending up in an aisle full of little cars, bikes, trucks, and shit that I would have fucking lost my mind for as a kid. I rummage through the Matchbox section, looking through their motorcycle collection.

“You’re too old to be here. Are you a perv or something?”

I turn to my right and my eyes land on a chubby ginger kid that looks vaguely familiar. He’s wearing a button that reads “Rodney” so I’m guessing that’s his name. I stare at him, wondering if I should engage with him or not. He looks about 9 or 10 and even I know kids this age are scary as fuck so it’s probably best I ignore him. Clearly he doesn’t get that memo before he steps closer, staring up at me, chewing his hot cheetos with an open mouth.

“Perv says what?” he says, around a mouthful.

I frown down at him. “What?”

“Yeah that’s what I thought.” He flips me his very orange middle finger before scuttling away.

“What in the fuck was that?” I mumble to myself.

Is this the shit I have to look forward to? A kid with a smart mouth and rude finger signs? I let out a long sigh, because yes, that is exactly what I have to look forward to. Rider is my best friend and I just fucking know that he’ll teach my kid all that shit and more. Hell, thinking back to our childhood we were fucking awful. I’m amazed my dad didnt kick my ass more. Thinking about Mad Dog I pull out my phone. If I’m having a kid my dad should know.

“Yo, son, what’s up?”

My whole body settles as soon as my dad’s voice rumbles down the line, my lips tilting up. “What? Nothing’s up. Can’t a son call his dad out of the blue?”

There’s a pause on the other end, before a chuckle, “Well, he can, but he doesn’t, does he?”

Fuck, he’s right, I should make more of an effort to check in. He’s been off with his woman for months now, tripping around in his RV. A better son would call regularly. “Yeah, sorry Dad. I should make an effort to check in with you. How are you?” He blows a breath out, and his hesitation makes me worry. “Dad? Is everything OK?”

“Yeah, son, everything is good. I’m on my way home, but minus an Ol Lady. Molly and I decided that we didn’t want the same things. And shit, being locked in an RV for days, months on end, we kinda realized that we had nothing in common other than fucking,”

“Fuck, Dad! Don’t say shit like that!” His booming laugh comes over the phone and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips, even though I want to remain grossed out. Forever. “Are you OK with that?”

“Yeah son, it was mutual. She had me drop her at her sisters, and I got the call from your Ol Lady, so I’m making my way home. I know you’ll need me.:

My brows fly up. “Chewy called you?”

“Yeah, told me I was going to be a grandpa and to get my ass home. Couldn’t come at a better time son.”

“So, you’re happy?” My stomach flutters knowing that Chewy knew what this would mean to my dad. Shit, to me.

“Fuck yeah! I’m not getting any younger, you know. Besides, that funny little woman of yours would make a good mother. I can’t wait to watch her kick the asses of any kid stupid enough to take yours on.”

I snort, knowing that’s exactly what would happen. “I’m glad you’re happy, Dad. I guess I’ll see you soon then?”

“Look out your clubhouse window tomorrow, Son. I’ll be there.”

I rub my chest, feeling the pang there. “Love you Dad.”

“Love you too, Son. See you then.” Dad’s phone clicks off and I feel a renewed energy bubbling up inside me.

I’m going to have a kid. My woman is bringing us home a kid that needs us. My dad will be here and between us, the DRMC, the Tombs and everyone else in our circle we’re going to love that kid so hard they’ll shit love.

Striding back to where I left the buggy and Ol Ladies I’m taken aback when Blanche comes out of nowhere and shoves a mini-toilet thing into my hands, “Put this in the buggy. And don’t bitch.” She glares at me and I’m almost happy that Chewy and I are skipping pregnancy because a pregnant Blanche is fucking scary. But her pregnancy rage isn’t going to slow me down; I have shit to do to get ready for my family.

Walking toward the buggy with the tiny toilet a kid’s voice calls out of nowhere “Nice toilet! Shit much?

“Rodney!”

“Shit! Ms Jasmine!” A fat, orange blur races past me, Vi’s sister hot on its heels and a guffaw bursts out of me.

Then I throw my head back and roar.

“Fuck, brothers, that little toilet thing tipped him over the edge,” Rider’s sad voice breaks through my laughter.

He couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m nowhere near the edge. I’m exactly where I should be.