Rowe (Henchmen MC Next Generation 4)

“I’m worried you’re driving a wedge between yourself and your brothers,” Billie said, hitting the nail on the head, and it was more than a little disconcerting.

“Because I was okay with Dezi leaving? He’s a good guy, but we’re just… different people,” I said, trying to hide behind that, uncomfortable with the main topic.

“Yeah, you and Malc are a lot better suited. What with the outdoorsy interests and all. Can I ask you something?” she asked, brows pinched.

“Sure.”

“Why did you join the MC? I mean, I know Malc did, but he was a legacy. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been the kind of profession you’d expect someone like him—or you—would go into.”

“Honestly, I needed the money,” I admitted. “I was working construction. And it paid my bills at the time. But my old man was in a hole on the property. Been in my family for several generations,” I added. “My grandfather taught me how to be a man on that property. And my old man was going to lose it to the fucking bank,” I said, an old, hot sort of resentment building.

“I’m sure he didn’t intend—“ Billie started.

“He’s a drunk and spends every dime he finds at the tracks,” I interrupted.

“The horse tracks?” she asked, pressing a hand to her heart.

“Would it be any better if it were the dog tracks?” I asked, feeling my lips twitch a bit at her heartbroken reaction.

“Well… no,” she said, smiling a bit.

“Yeah, I spent a nice chunk of my childhood at the tracks. Know you got a lot of respect and love for your old man, but I don’t have that. I never did,” I explained.

“I’m sorry,” she said. And, what’s more, she meant it. That was the thing with Billie. She had a huge fucking heart. Sometimes, you saw her and all you could focus on was the pussy earrings and the way she wore her sexuality on her sleeve. But under all that, was someone who cared about everything. Animals, other people, the environment, everything.

“But yeah, he was heading headfirst into a foreclosure. And I couldn’t let that happen. But there was no way for me to get that kind of money quickly enough at my old job. So when Malc suggested the Henchmen, I saw a chance to save my family’s legacy. I prospected, sold my place, sold my truck and all my ATVs and shit. It gave me the money to buy my old man out. Just barely.”

“But now you’re stuck.”

“I don’t think of it as stuck,” I countered. “I mean, at the beginning, it had been an adjustment, realizing that my life was sort of decided, if you get what I mean. Bikers are for life. Most of the time, anyway. But the longer I’ve been with the Henchmen, the more I’ve started to appreciate the brotherhood and the sense of family. It’s been a long time since I knew what that was like. Not since my grandparents were alive.”

“What about your mom?” she asked.

“Good question,” I said, shaking my head. “She left my old man when I was six or seven.”

“But… did she leave you too?” Billie asked, sounding a little choked up.

“She hung around for a while. Doing visits every few weeks. But she was no more built for motherhood at the time than my old man was built for fatherhood. She did eventually settle down several years later. Has four kids with her new man.”

“But hasn’t kept in contact with you?”

“No.”

“That’s… that’s terrible,” Billie decided.

“I thought you were the one who felt everyone had a reason and right to do and feel how they want to.”

“Well, yeah. And maybe it would be different if she realized she was never meant to be a mother, then never had more kids. But to walk away from one to have four more, and not keep in touch? That’s awful. And in case no one has told you, it was her loss.”

“You can barely stand to stand near me for two minutes put together, and you want to tell me I’m something to miss out on?” I asked, watching as her gaze darted away, likely thinking I hadn’t noticed what a wide berth she gave me compared to everyone else who she was always very touchy-feely with.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, turning away. “I am close to you several times a day, putting salve on your back and helping you with your brace.”

The absolute second she was done, though, she was rushing away from me like I was contagious.

And, again, I couldn’t blame her. I’d clearly been more brutal with my rejection of her than I remembered. And she, clearly, had moved on from her crush on me too.

Which was what I wanted.

Well, no.

I never really wanted that.

But it was what had to be done.