“I love you,” I say with contentment. Contented because I know it’s true, Vince loves me, and I love him, and that’s all that matters.
Chapter Thirteen
Shepard
It’s been a hard couple months. Hellish, even. My father died. Heart attack. Didn’t even see it coming. I’d taken my family over to my parents’ place for Sunday lunch. Mom had cooked and wanted Lynette and I to go over with the kids. That included Willow, Jett, Tank, and Hammer. She’s got a soft spot for the two of them, especially since they don’t have any other family.
Max and VJ were in the garden with Mom, Lynette, and Willow. The rest of us were inside drinking beer and talking about football. Something we never really did much of before. Apollo kept rubbing the top of his right arm, looking at me the whole time. I knew something was wrong the second he told me to take care of my mother, to make sure she was safe, and not to stand in her way if she ever found love again.
I narrowed my eyes at him, for a second there, I thought he was trying to tell me that my mother had been cheating on him. It didn’t make any sense to me because he’s always been the love of her life. Even when he left her for someone else, she never stopped loving him, and never did she stop hoping he’d come back to her. When he reached for me, my hand in his as he tugged me towards him where he sat on his large couch, I knew, fuck, I just knew! I sat down beside him, and he grabbed me. He hugged me so damn hard and told me how proud of me he was, how much he loved me, that I was his pride and joy. Then he died right there in my arms. I couldn’t stop shaking him and begging him to wake up.
Wasn’t ’til Jett grabbed my shoulder and squeezed that I realized it was too late.
My mom came running in, screaming his name. ‘Lenny!’ She screamed as she dropped to her knees beside him, pulling him away from me and into her arms. ‘Lenny, don't leave me! Please,’ She kissed his head over and over again while rocking him back and forth. ‘I love you so much. Oh, Lenny!’
I'll never fuckin’ forget that awful moment for as long as I live. I’ll always remember how both Lynette and Willow leaned down and kissed his head, sobbing their eyes out and telling him they loved him. I’ll never forget how Jett did this same before leaving the room, a sobbing Max in his arms.
But do you know what will stay in my mind and never, ever leave it?
They say things like this, the pain of losing a loved one fades from your mind with time. You’ll never forget, but it’ll get easier.
However, the thing that won’t is the way VJ reacted to Apollo’s death.
I noticed him out of the corner of my eye. I thought he’d gone with Jett. Maybe he had and snuck back into the room, I don’t know. Dad was laid out on the couch while we waited for the authorities to come to take his body away. Willow had left the room to find comfort with her brother and friends, and she was more than likely taking care of Max. Lynette was sat with my mother at the dining table in the open kitchen, and I was sitting on the chair near the couch.
I watched my six-year-old son walk towards his once mighty grandfather; his head cocked to the side. I could see him trying to process what he was seeing. VJ reached out his hand and touched Apollo's face. ‘Hmm.’ He hummed to himself thoughtfully. ‘Guess you died, Pops.’ I narrowed my eyes. ‘Shame, I really liked you.’ Then he walked out of the room without another word.
There had been no emotion in what he said, complete detachment. I pointed it out to Lynette, but she told me that VJ was more than likely in shock. He’s just six years old, and he watched his grandfather die.
I left it at that because I think we were all in shock. However, deep down, I know there’s something about my boy that isn’t right. Maybe he’ll grow out of it as he gets older, but somehow, I don’t think he will.
I was voted in as President the day after Apollo passed. Jett was voted VP, just as I knew he would be. Hammer is already Sergeant-At-Arms and was the first to vote my boy VP. Jett is the youngest VP we’ve ever had. Plenty of the older brothers could have taken that spot. Not one of them voted against it.
I was raised to know I’d one day be president of the Snakes, president of the whole damn mother charter, but I wasn’t ready for it yet. I wasn’t prepared to lose my dad. My mother has all but crumbled. I tried to move her in with Lynette and me for a while, but she refused to leave the house she shared with my dad on and off for forty-five years. That’s not to say I haven’t checked on her every day since he passed, and I’ll keep checking on her. She’s my mother, and she means the world to me.
Apollo’s funeral was a huge affair. He was the damn president of the mother charter for Christ’s sake, every biker, no matter what chapter he belonged to, attended. Everyone paid their respects to a man much loved by all.
Weird, isn’t it? That I should say that about Apollo when he was a dangerous, evil old bastard most of the time. However, he made damn sure this club, and every club belonging to it kept to his law. The law of not only putting the fear of God into any fucker who tried to take over our territory, fuck with our livelihood, but the act of treating your wife with more respect than you’d give your mother. To treat her like she’s the most precious pearl there ever was.
Your kids? The jewel in your crown. Raise ‘em right, and you'll raise kings and queens of the fuckin’ world. Ain’t nobody gonna mess with your son once he shows the damn world who he is, a Snakes Henchmen through and though. Ain’t no one brave enough to mess with your daughter for fear of never seeing the light of day again for so much as looking at her the wrong way.
That’s not to say we're raising our daughters to be weak. Each little girl knows she’s just as strong as the men if she puts her mind to it. We’d never take that away from them. I wouldn’t want to raise my daughter’s to think they’re beneath any man.
My dad was all about the family if nothing else. He was a criminal, a murderer, a gun runner, the worst kind of bastard. But he was my dad, and I loved him. I miss him, and I find myself holding my young sons just that bit longer before they go to bed each night. I watch them sleeping, playing, eating, laughing, even talking to their mother, and I know one day, they’re going to feel this pain, the same pain I feel right now, the pain of losing their father.
I scrub harder at the handles of my bike. It’s already clean, but I can’t stop rubbing. I’m straddling my motorcycle right now having just cleaned every inch of it.
“You’ll scrub the chrome off those bars if you’re not careful.”
“What are you doing here, Coral?” I’d recognize that voice anywhere. She may sound older, but I know it’s her. I don’t turn to look at her. I can’t right now. The shit this beautiful woman has been through because of that no-good brother of m
ine.
Yeah, as I said in the beginning, I have a half-brother, who is more dead to me than anyone ever could be. One who wasn’t invited to my old man’s funeral, not that I believe he would have attended even if he was. My father was nothing but ashamed of that fucked up cunt. Didn’t even mumble his name before he died.
My parents split when I was a kid. Dad had a son with someone else. She died, my parents got back together. My parents tried to raise Ronnie to be a good man. They failed as many parents do. The bastard killed for no reason, raped women and young girls, including Coral when she was twelve.
It was me, she ran to when he hurt her. Me, who found out who'd raped her. Me, who beat the ever living fuck out of him, and me, who let him live when I should’ve killed him.
It was me who convinced Coral’s parents it would be best to have the baby, she carried adopted so my brother wouldn’t find out. Me, who convinced her parents to move her away from here for a while so she could recover.
I haven’t seen Coral in years. I didn’t even know she was back. Why come back here after all this time? What the hell is left here for her?
“I missed you.”
I close my eyes for a second before turning to look at her. Coral has changed so much in the time she’s been gone. She’s tall, curvy, beautiful. Her blonde hair is all loose, slightly curled, and hanging down her back and over her shoulders. She’s wearing tight jeans and a tank top that shows just how womanly she’s gotten over the last eight years. She’s twenty-one already, and so fuckin’ beautiful.