Thrash (31 page)
Robin wiggles in my arms and reaches
out to pull at my hair. I remember back in the day when her pulling
my hair would hurt, but she does it so often now that I barely
notice it. Even in her sleep she pulls at my hair or at Duke’s
beard. It’s our fault, I suppose. Neither of us is very good at
making her sleep in her crib in her own room. Duke tries to make up
crap, saying that she screams like a banshee when he leaves her in
there—which is true—he just also refuses to acknowledge the fact
that if he left her in there long enough, she’d eventually quiet
down and get used to it. But he doesn’t like to hear her scream
anymore than I do.
I load her up into her car seat inside
my Corolla and then climb into the driver’s seat. She runs almost
like a dream now that Duke’s fixed her up for me. Pulling away from
the house, I admire the fresh coat of yellow paint that’s on the
exterior and the way the lawn is cut and the edges are trimmed. The
outside of the house looks a lot better now, and the people on the
inside are a lot better now, too. Only, I try not to tell Duke
that. He likes to rub it in my face.
Robin’s been to the clubhouse a few
times before, but it’s usually smoky inside and no place for a
baby. But today it’s mostly clean, family fun. Barbara’s bringing
Stephen and Izzy by for a rare appearance. The only member she
really keeps in touch with these days is Grady, and that’s by
virtue of Elle. We’re still her family, but she needs space. I can
respect that. Mary and Fish are bringing their kid by, and Grady’s
supposed to have his daughter, Cheyenne, over as well. Duke said he
was going to see about getting Grady to chill long enough for Ryan
to bring Alex by, even though she’s on the fence about showing up.
I know she won’t let me down, because I don’t let her down. And
even if the club never accepts her, she’s my family just as much as
the club is my family. Today’s kind of a big day for my
family.
Today’s the day they voted me
in.
It’s a big deal to be voted in. It
means I’m officially Duke’s Old Lady. It means the club considers
me one of their own. I don’t sit in on Church, I don’t
know—officially—club business, and I don’t vote in on their
business dealings. But I’m one of them in a way that matters just
the same. My mother was never voted in because the club never got a
good feel for her, which is not surprising. When she left my dad,
that was it. She was gone. I’ve heard rumors that she called the
club for help a few years after she left. But she wasn’t voted in,
so she wasn’t family. Even though my dad couldn’t be here, he’s
sent us his best. Duke makes sure Jeremy and I see him regularly
now, and every time I visit, I end up spending half the time
telling Dad about how Robin’s growing. He says word around the yard
at San Quentin is that The Butcher is whipped by a seventeen-pound
baby, and he can’t wait to meet her when he gets out. We still
don’t have any realistic idea of when that’ll be though, because he
incurred another infraction for going off on a guy over something
or other.
When I pull through the gates, the
first thing I see is Jeremy. He’s standing by my usual parking
space with his prospect cut on, and he gives me a chin lift as way
of greeting. I used to hate seeing him in that cut, but Dad’s
calmed me down about it. If the club’s good enough for Duke, then
it’s good enough for Jeremy. Still, the longer he spends with the
club, the bigger an asshole he becomes. And he was already half
past being a prick back then.
I park the car and climb out. I don’t
even bother grabbing Robin, as Jeremy already has her out of her
car seat and is walking her to the clubhouse while trying to teach
her how to punch. I don’t say much about it because he has fun with
her, but damn, I wish he’d stop trying to perfect her right hook.
Her dexterity is getting pretty good, and she’s popped Duke in the
face a few times while he’s been asleep
Following behind, I finally reach the
door to the clubhouse. When I open it up, loud screams erupt, and
I’m stunned from the shock of it all. I knew they were here, but I
didn’t know they’d start screaming like cave people the moment they
saw me. Robin breaks out into a high-pitched scream that rips me
apart. I blink back the surprise and go for her, but I’m too
late.
Duke strides right up to Jeremy and
takes her out of his arms. In a few seconds, she’s quiet and
snuggled into his neck, pulling on his beard. Seeing him with her
makes me feel like such an idiot for ever doubting that he’d want
her. Even though we didn’t know her smile back then, or her laugh,
we knew her. She’s our baby, and she’s precious in a way nothing
else is.
As Diesel and Jim, and even Bear,
descend upon me, giving me hugs and offering congratulations, I
smile and force myself to stop paying attention to my Old Man as he
pretends to eat Robin’s tiny fist. Predictably enough, she pops him
as hard as she can in his mouth for his effort. The guys ask to see
the tattoo—the new one of the Nordic warrior that’s the Forsaken
symbol that I have on my right shoulder—so I oblige and pull my bra
strap down. That’s why we’re here, after all. We’re here to
celebrate as a family. And even though everything is hectic and
upside down. Even though we’re still finding our footing after the
Darren situation, and even though Mancuso is still a threat, for
this single afternoon we’re whole, and we’re happy, and we’re in a
good place. Even Grady seems a lot more chill than he used to be. I
thank Elle for that.
When I finally make my way through the
crowd, I cozy up to Duke and Robin. He wraps his free arm around my
shoulders and pulls me close to him. With a kiss to my head and a
squeeze to my shoulders he leans down and says, “I want to fuck my
Old Lady.”
Across the room, Alex stands with Ryan
and Ruby. I wave her over, and when she approaches, Duke hands
Robin off to her. Lately the kid’s been saying Ub, even though we
think she’s trying to say Cub. It’s cute and all, but we don’t
waste time as we tear off down the hallway to Duke’s room. Back
when I was pregnant, he didn’t want to have sex in here. He said it
wasn’t a place for me anymore. But now that we have a kid, we take
it when and where we can—assuming we haven’t passed out from
exhaustion.
In the small, impersonal space, we
undress one another in silence. It isn’t until he gets to my jeans
and discovers the plastic covering over my latest tattoo that he
pauses and raises an eyebrow at me, saying, “And what is
this?”
I shrug and move my arms so he can
inspect for himself. He peels away the wrapping to find the tattoo
on my hipbone. It’s in a fine, beautiful script, with his and
Robin’s names above and below it, that reads THIS IS
FOREVER.
“
No spinning,” he
whispers, looking up at me.
Softly, I run my fingers through his
hair and say, “No spinning.”
About the
Author
As a child, JC was
fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some
things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between
the sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that
live inside her head. A San Francisco Bay Area native, JC has also
called both Texas and Louisiana home. These days she rocks her flip
flops year round in Northern California and can’t imagine a climate
more beautiful.
Find JC Emery on the web .
. .
http://www.jcemery.wordpress.com
http://twitter.com/jc_emery
http://www.facebook.com/jcemeryauthor
http://www.goodreads.com/jc_emery
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