Something is wrong. It took Lynette a good hour to come to join what has become a small barbecue, few beers, few laughs. She looks like hell, she’s pale, and I know she’s been crying, her eyes are still bloodshot. What happened earlier with my son and Titus’ kid has upset her more than I realized.
I’d asked the boys over to my place for a drink while things are quiet at the clubhouse. Had no fucking clue I’d arrive home to see my boy pounding the life out of someone twice his size. He’s more like me than I realized.
I dragged Jett off of the kid, ‘course I did, but I’d be a damn liar if I said my chest didn’t swell with pride at the way he protected Lynette and Willow. Fucking killed me to hear how upset he was, how scared he is of losing them both. It upset me, even more, seeing Willow run at Jett the way she did, the way he held her as she cried because she was scared he might have been hurt. They love each other so much; he’s always going to protect his little sister, no matter what it takes, I know that. Not to mention he wants to call Lynette Mom now. Little Willow called me Daddy for the first time today, can't say I haven’t wanted to hear that word for months.
I want to talk to Lynette about her adopting Jett, that's what he wants. I also want to talk to her about letting me adopt Willow. I want that little girl to have my name as well as her mother. We’re a family, and Willow is a big part of this family, she should have the same surname as the rest of us. Never want anyone looking at her differently. They never will if she has my name.
I’m not replacing Nova with Willow, that could never be. No one could take my baby girls place in my heart, but I have plenty of room in my heart for Willow. She’s so easy to love. She reminds me a lot of Nova in many ways. God, I miss my little girl. I will find her even if it kills me trying.
“Dunno whether to give my boy a medal or beat his ass.” Titus chuckles. His wife might be pissed, but my best friend is proud of his boy.
“Ain’t that what we’ve been teaching ‘em all these years? To take care of the family?” Both BlackJack and Titus nod in unison. The family is everything. The club is our family, and that’s what we teach our kids. Above and beyond anything else, family comes first.
“I’m sure watching Jett and Haiden beating the shit outta those fuckers got to the women,” BlackJack tells us. “But you should be proud of them, of both them. They're fuckin’ strong for young teens.”
“That they are,”
“Prez,” We all acknowledge.
“My grandson is a man to be proud of, he ain’t no different from you, Shepard. Just a little younger than you were when you got a taste for it.” Thank God my boy didn’t kill that sonofabitch. It fucking changes a man forever, that shit.
My father is in his late-fifties. Tall, stacked, still has the beard I’ve always known him to have, and the long gray hair that he wears in a braid down his back. He’s a vicious old bastard and rules this MC with an iron fist. However, he’s my dad, and he’s a good man where it counts. Proud of me and proud of Jett, that’s the way it should be.
“Tank,” He says loud and proud.
“What?” Where did that come from? Tank, who the hell is that?
He takes his cigarette out of his mouth, blows away the smoke, and swigs his bottled beer before pointing to young Haiden. He's a tall kid like my boy, good-looking too like his old man and big brother. “That boy hits with the force of an army tank.” That he does, he broke that skinny motherfucker's jaw! “He’ll be a good brother one day soon, just like Jett.”
“You gave my son a road name already, Prez?”
“I did. You should afford him the same grace as everyone else. Tank will be a great asset to this club, just like his brother. You mark my words.” My father is never ordinarily wrong.
“What do you reckon, brother? You think our boys’ll be joinin’ us?”
“You know what, Titus? I do believe they will.”
“I know my boys will.” BlackJack laughs. The man can’t wait for his kids to be just like him. Including the kid, he took in a couple of months ago. A kid who tried to rob him, one who was living on the street and had fuck all to live for.
Daft prick took the kid home with him and let Taylor mother him. Asked Apollo to give him a chance with the club. Apollo likes him so agreed to give him a chance to show us what he can do. He’s a prospect now, Stryker, as CueBall renamed him.
However, as interesting as this conversation might be, I can’t tear my eyes away from Lynette and that lost look in her eyes. Oh, she’s playing the hostess beautifully, just as she always does. However, that fucking look in her eyes is tearing me the fuck up.
Is she so unhappy being with me?
Have I done something to hurt her?
I can’t fucking bear the thought of her wanting to leave me. We've had a fantastic six months together, not an argument between us. She’s my strong girl. The woman who keeps me on my toes and puts me in my place when I overstep the mark. She doesn’t even let the MC boys get away with anything.
It isn’t just me who loves Lynette, every damn member of this club loves the bones of her. She’s my world, but if she’s not happy here, then I will let her go. I’ll make sure she’s safe, but I’ll step back. I won’t be the one to make her unhappy like this. It’ll kill me, but I’ll do it.
Lynette avoids me all evening, even when everyone leaves, she stays away. “She’s tucking Will into bed,” Jett tells me while helping me pick up the mess in the backyard. I know how much Lynette hates a mess out here, in the house, anywhere. She's a house-proud woman. She likes things clean, and God help anyone who leaves a mess.
“Dad?” It’s hard to see my young son as a boy anymore. He’s tall, his voice is broken and deep, he’s already on his way to the body of a very well-built man. After what happened today, its safe to say that gone is the little boy who used to cling to me each night. Gone is the little boy who used to look up at me with that big smile on his face, those big blue eyes playfully sparkling as he clapped his baby hands while reaching for me.
Whats left in his place is this young man, so strong and powerful. A man who’s already dressing as though he was a Snake. Even wears a homemade cut that he made from an old leather jacket of mine. The boy has also got a knack for fixing cars. A talent for protecting his mother and sister the way a grown man would. Apollo is right; my boy will be an influential member of our MC, VP one day. I can see it now.
“What is it, Jett?” I ask while throwing empty cans into the black sack my son is holding open.
“She’s upset with me, isn’t she?”
I can’t lie to the boy, that’s why I tell him why Lynette would be upset with him. How what he did was the right thing, but that Lynette would be disappointed because she loves him and wanted better for him. She also doesn't want to see him in juvie. Not that that would ever happen, ain’t no fucker brave enough to call the cops on my kid, and that’s a fact. It was the same for me when I was a kid. I got away with more shit than you can even imagine.
Every fucker was terrified of my old man and what he’d do to their families should they so much as look at me the wrong way. You’d think it would’ve pissed me off not being like other kids, but it didn’t. When you grow up that way, it’s the norm. Like if you've grown up wealthy, if you have a lot of money that’s all you’ll know.
As much as Jett wants to talk to Lynette, I tell him to wait until morning, to let her calm down, then send him off to bed so I can talk to her. I know it’s late, but I can’t let this shit fester. I need to know what's going on inside her head. I want to know if she wants out.
She’s sitting on the edge of our bed when I get to our room. Her head is hanging down, and her hands are under her ass. She’s in her PJ’s, tiny shorts, and a tank top. Her hairs tied up in a messy bun, I can tell she's just showered because I can smell the scent of her body wash, and she looks so fuckin’ sexy. Damn cock of mine is a selfish cunt. Lynette’s upset, and he wants to play!
She’s more than upset. I can see that.
It’s more than just being upset by what Jett did, a lot more.
“Do you need me to help you pack?”
Her head shoots up; confusion laces her expression. “Pack? Am I going somewhere?”
“Why don't you tell me?” I fold my arms around my chest, feet shoulder-width apart.
“Don’t stand there so damn defensive, Vince, I’m not one of your boys. You don’t intimidate me!” I’m trying not to smile. There’s my feisty girl. “You want me to leave?” She snaps and gets to her feet. Her body language is all off. She’s angry, but for what reason? She storms past me in a huff. “Fine!” She grabs a bag from the closet and starts filling it with clothes. “I’ll go!”
“Jesus Christ, Lynette!” Grabbing her arm, I swing her around to face me. “What the hell has gotten into you today? I thought you wanted to leave me, that’s why I said that about helping you pack! I can’t make you stay with me. I won’t make you this unhappy! I fuckin’ swore always to make you happy, but it’s very fuckin’ obvious I’m doing anything but!”
“I don’t want to leave you, you stupid ass! I’m out of sorts because of what happened earlier. Watching Tate do something I never expected from a child! Those bastards threatened to take my baby and do disgusting things to her! So excuse me if I don’t feel like partying!”
“I know,” I tell her softly. “I know it upset you, and I’m sorry, but you have to let this go. That boy loves you and Willow so much, he was scared of something bad happening to you, and he flipped out and did the only thing he could to stop it.”
She merely nods, and I know, for now, that’s an end to that conversation.
“Is that all that’s bothering you, beautiful?” I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand.