“Woman’s got too soft a heart,” my pop said gruffly. “What she want you to do about it?”
“Who knows,” I replied. “Nothin’ I can do about it.”
* * *
Hours later I was laying on my bed staring at the ceiling and worrying about Vera. It pissed me off. She’d made her opinion of me crystal fucking clear, so why was I spending any time wondering if she was okay? It was bullshit. Jess called it knight-in-shining-armor-syndrome and always gave me a ration of shit when I stepped in to help women that didn’t ask for it.
She’d probably laugh her ass off if she knew that I was lying in bed worrying about Vera. No, that wasn’t true. She’d probably punch me if she knew I was thinking about Vera. After the mess in Tacoma, I’d stopped talking to Jess and we both knew why. Hanging with her reminded me of the look on Vera’s face when she’d found us together and I just wasn’t into it anymore.
I tried to tell myself that my ma was overreacting about Vera’s dad, but there had been something in her voice that gave me pause. My ma was sensitive, yes, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d seen abuse in all of its different forms, first when she was a kid and later around the club. My pop had treated her like she was spun glass, but that didn’t mean that other brothers treated their wives the same. She knew when something wasn’t right.
“Fuck it,” I mumbled, climbing back out of bed. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep so I might as well make myself useful.
There was always someone awake and I waved to a couple of the boys who were playing cards as I made my way to the garage. Flipping on the overhead lights, I glanced around the space. We had prospects for cleaning and bitch work, but I’d found that doing shit that didn’t require much thought helped me clear my mind. I grabbed a broom out of the closet and began to sweep.
By three in the morning I knew that I was going to be making a trip north to check on Vera. I called myself every kind of idiot—the chick didn’t even want to see me—but I knew that if I didn’t check to make sure she was alright, I’d never stop thinking about it.
* * *
I was dragging ass when got to my ma’s place around noon the next day. I should’ve slept, but by the time I knew that I’d be leaving I remembered a ton of work that I had to get done before I could go. Being the president’s son didn’t give me any special privileges and I had to earn my wages at the garage just like everyone else. No one cared if I worked through the night—some of the guys did that pretty regularly—as long as I finished what I was working on.
“Charlie,” my mom said, opening the door before I’d even made it up the walkway. “This is a surprise.”
“Bullshit,” I said, smiling at her as I strode up the steps. “You knew I’d come.”
“You’ve always had a soft heart,” she said, echoing the words my dad had said about her as she let me into the house.
“Yeah, well don’t tell anybody.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
“So what’s goin’ on?” I asked as I followed her to the kitchen. “You seen anything else?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just Nadine’s son pulling her granddaughter out to his car. She didn’t look like she wanted to go.”
“Could just be normal parent stuff,” I said, sitting down at the table.
“I don’t think so,” my ma replied. “And you don’t either, or you wouldn’t have come all the way up here.”
Ma was right. Something about the story bothered me but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it did. I’d never met Vera’s dad, for obvious reasons, but she’d talked about him and said he was a pastor at their church and was real strict. The words hadn’t meant much at the time, but the memory of how she’d said it was part of the reason I was there now.
“Can I borrow the car?” I asked my ma, meeting her eyes across the table.
“Sure.” She smiled. “Though you might make more of an impression riding a Harley to the rescue.”
“That’s what I’m tryin’ to avoid,” I replied dryly.
Vera’s house wasn’t far from my mom’s. I’d never been inside it, but she’d pointed it out one time when we’d run down to the corner store to get some smokes. She’d been so nervous about getting caught that night, I’d thought she was going to jump out of her skin. It was pretty clear from the beginning that she wasn’t one for breaking rules, and sneaking out of her grandma’s at night was about as far as she was willing to go. If I was being honest with myself, I was flattered as hell that she’d continued to meet up with me even though she was a nervous wreck. There was just something about turning a good girl into a bad one that made life a little sweeter.