Blood & Bones - Dodge (Blood Fury MC 10)

He only kept going to school for the free breakfasts and lunches. For the showers when the water in the apartment was shut off. For warmth when the heat was turned off, too. And, of course, for the girls.

By sweet talking some of his female classmates, he learned quickly they’d let him climb in their windows at night and sleep in their bed. Even better, they’d let him do other things, too.

Somehow he managed to make it to graduation without getting thrown in juvie or getting evicted from the apartment housing. Though, he barely earned his diploma. But the diploma he earned with all Ds looked exactly the same as the class Valedictorian’s.

Same certificate, just a different name. So, who was the real smart one in that case?

He only saw Breaker and Smokey when they occasionally rolled back into town. And when they did, he made himself scarce.

Then about ten years ago, he never heard from either of them again. He’d heard rumors here and there that the club they belonged to, the Shadow Warriors, had been decimated.

Unlike the Fury, the story going around was that MC’s demise came from the outside instead of within. His best guess was a rival club must have had it out for them and decided it was easier if they no longer existed.

Dodge did not shed a tear over that news.

In fact, he drank a few shots to celebrate. It could’ve been more than a few.

What it did not do was leave him with a desire to join an MC. Not full of motherfucking useless pieces of shit like his uncle and Smokey.

Not until the Fury offered him a place to land and a promise of something solid.

“Sorry,” she said. “Not everyone should be a parent.”

No truer words. But, fuck, now he regretted starting this whole damn conversation. He did not want to relive the past.

At least the effort to get her to open up worked, even though it also returned him to a time he wanted to forget.

He dropped his gaze from where he’d been staring at the ceiling to the woman now laying across his chest, her chin propped on her forearm as she stared at him with eyes that sucked him in like quicksand. They could easily pull him under, making it impossible to escape.

“There should be a list of requirements or a parenting test before you’re ever allowed to have children. My birth mother had a similar story to yours. She actually drank herself to death. Feeding her addiction was more important to her than her kids, too.”

Christ almighty. Some people needed to be spayed and neutered like pets. “She die recently?”

“No.”

“What about your pop?”

“No one knew who he was. I don’t even think she did.”

Damn.

“After I…”

After she what?

Why the fuck was he so goddamn invested in her story? Why was he hanging on her every damn word?

Was her pussy laced with some sort of drug?

She gave her head a little shake like she was trying to shake free of something, then finally said, “Because alcoholism can be genetic, I rarely drink. I don’t want to ever end up like her. Where you prioritize alcohol or drugs over taking care of your…”

“Your?”

“Responsibilities.”

“What happened to you after that?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You weren’t living with her then?”

“No. I never really lived with her.”

It was rare that a child was removed from their mother’s care. No matter how rotten that care was.

“It’s why…”

After a few silent moments, he wanted to yell, “It’s why what?”

She shook her head again. “Nothing.”

“Ain’t nothin’. Finish what you were gonna say.” He might have said that a little more forcefully than he should have. He didn’t want her slamming her walls up again. But her hesitation was driving him fucking crazy.

Finally, she repeated, “That’s why I don’t drink much or do drugs.”

Bullshit. That wasn’t what she was going to say. But he let it go. Everyone had secrets.

So did Syn.

Did he want to know hers? Fuck yeah.

Did he want to share all of his? Fuck no.

“Did family raise you, instead?” His certainly didn’t.

“No. Right after I was born, my brother smuggled me out of our trailer and gave me to another family.”

Wait. Hold the fuck up. “He did fuckin’ what? What d’you mean he gave you to another family?”

“He was trying to save me.”

“From what?”

“A horrible life. A screwed up childhood. Like I said, my mom was a drunk—like drink until she blacked out kind—and though my brother didn’t tell me everything, once I got older, I could understand why he did what he did.”

If Syn’s mother was anything like Dodge’s, he could understand it, too. Now he was thankful as fuck that his mother gave up her second child.

Syn’s situation sounded similar.

Too fucking similar.

However, it had to be worse for a girl growing up in that kind of environment than a boy. Especially if strange men were coming in and out of their house. Or in her case, trailer. Something that might happen if the mother was desperate for scratch to feed her addiction. Like Dodge, Syn would’ve been left unprotected while her mother was passed out drunk or high.