I’m pushing the lawn mower across the front yard around lunchtime Friday, well sated and happy after a mind-blowing night and morning with Teagan when a red Honda Civic suddenly pulls up into my driveway.
Since I’m not expecting anyone, and Teagan doesn’t know anyone in town, I figure they must be lost.
A petite woman with her dark hair up in a messy ponytail gets out of the driver’s side of the car. A pair of big, black sunglasses not only covering her eyes but half of her face. And while I can’t see her eyes, I’m pretty sure they’re glaring daggers at me.
Killing the mower, I holler out, “Can I help you?”
“Tell me that’s not a goddamn biker cut you’re wearing!” she exclaims when she marches across the yard toward me.
I glance down at the leather, unsure what to say to her or why she’s so insulted.
Before I can tell her to fuck off or anything else, she’s standing in front of me, close enough to touch, scoffing. “I should’ve known! The Savage Kings, to top it all off! How many times did I warn her to stay away from you assholes?”
“Excuse me? Who the hell are you?” I ask in confusion. The angry woman’s face turns a fiery red.
She opens her mouth to answer just as the front door of my house opens. Then Teagan shouts, “Mom, you’re early!”
This woman is her mother? What in the world is she doing here? Why didn’t Teagan tell me that she was coming so I wouldn’t be caught by surprise?
So far, I haven’t made the best impression by snapping and swearing at her.
And I guess I understand her hatred for bikers, and the Savage Kings specifically. After all, it’s the club responsible for killing her…husband? Her daughter’s father? I don’t fucking know, because Teagan hasn’t told me a goddamn thing about her family.
Turning toward her daughter, her hands braced on her hips, she says, “Did you not learn anything from watching your father stomp all over my heart?”
Oh, so it was apparently him being a dick to her and not him dying for the MC that pisses her off the most. Got it.
“I know what I’m doing,” Teagan says as she comes down the steps, thankfully wearing jeans and one of my t-shirts but not her prospect cut, which is a lot more than she had on when I left her in bed an hour ago.
Wait. She knows what she’s doing, huh? With me?
The mother rushes over to her daughter.
“He’s just like all the others, Teagan!” her mom shouts. “You’re not special to him and you never will be! He’ll lie to you, use you, and move on. Just hope he doesn’t knock you up before all that shit happens!” she shouts. “Now, come on, let’s get you home.”
“I’m not leaving,” Teagan says before I even open my mouth to protest. She even crosses her arms over her chest defiantly.
“You can’t be serious!” her mother wails. When Teagan doesn’t budge, she goes on to say, “God, Teagan. I thought you were smarter than this!”
Her mom waits, staring her daughter down as if that’s going to change her mind. When it becomes obvious that she’s not going to, the woman stomps back to her car. Instead of getting inside the driver seat to leave, she opens the trunk. Clothes start flying up and falling to the ground, one after another, some of them still on their hangers. She manages to make quite a pile in only a few seconds. “There are your things! Don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart, because he will!”
With that, she slams the trunk, gets back in the car, and reverses out of the driveway, speeding away like a bat out of hell.
I don’t even know what the fuck to say as I watch her car disappear down the road.
“Sorry,” Teagan says when she comes over to me with bare feet. “She offered to bring me some of my things since I couldn’t pack much on my bike. I thought she would stop by later, you know, when you weren’t here.”
Resting my arms over the mower handle, I say, “Do you want to tell me why she hates bikers?”
“Ah, well,” Teagan starts as she glances away while biting down on her bottom lip.
“Just tell me, Teagan!” I yell, beyond frustrated that she’ll let me fuck every hole in her body, but she won’t talk to me about her family.
“Fine, okay!” she replies with the same angry tone I used. “My father was a biker. She loved him, but…he wouldn’t marry her. Not even close.”
“I sort of figured that much,” I remark.
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t just any biker.” Finally, she looks up at me, her violet eyes meeting my gaze. “He was, um, the president of the Savage Kings chapter in Charlotte.”
“Roy Allen?”
“Y-yes.” Frowning, she asks, “Did you know him?”
“No, but I’ve heard of him. I know what happened to him.”
“Oh, well, yeah. He died.”
“He was shot while protecting the original Kings’ clubhouse. Your pops died for the club, for his brothers. I’d do the same thing. I don’t get it, though. Why the fuck would you want anything to do with us?”
“I don’t know. It’s stupid!” she exclaims as her eyes begin to glisten in the sunlight. “You know how you said that ring makes you feel closer to your grandad? Well, I guess I thought that if I could be part of the club that it would make me feel closer to my father, okay? It’s been five years and I miss him. I’m-I’m starting to forget him.” She takes a deep, hitching breath as her voice begins to break under the weight of her emotion.
“He loved to ride, and he taught me how to handle a bike. Now, when I ride, I can feel him near me. His death…it felt like losing a limb, or a piece of my soul. When I go places he used to hang out, or ride the roads where he taught me how to handle my motorcycle, I feel so close to him. I want to grab every memory of him I can and cherish them. As much as he loved me, he loved the club even more. I just wanted to try and figure out what was so great about it that he would risk his life and die for the patch.”
I blow out a heavy exhale, relieved that she’s finally fucking talking to me, telling me the truth, even if it makes me feel like shit because I’m the one holding her back from being a part of the club.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“For what?” she asks, her brows furrowed as she blinks away her tears.
I start to tell her the truth, that the prospect cut is a fake. That I’m the only reason her becoming a prospect or a member won’t ever happen. But I know she’ll leave if I do, so instead I say, “I’m sorry about last night.”
“Last night?” she repeats, looking even more confused.
“I choked you with my fucking belt and nearly beat you to death!” I remind her.
“Oh, yeah. That.”
“Yeah, that,” I mutter. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, treated you like an animal.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “So why did you?”
“Because…because I want you to be mine, no one else’s,” I explain. “Your mother’s wrong. I won’t ever fuck around on you, Teagan. We may not have known each other long, but I can swear to you on my bike that I won’t ever cheat on you.”
Her eyes widen in surprise even though she tries to brush it off. “You could always just go out and get another bike, so that’s not very reassuring.”
“Yeah, I could buy another bike. But I can’t go out and get another you, baby,” I tell her as I grab her jaw and stroke it with my thumb. “You’re a limited edition – one of a kind. And I’m not planning to trade you in.”
A puff of laughter escapes her, but she uncrosses and lowers her arms, which I think is a good sign. “You know, I think that pronouncement would’ve been sweet if you weren’t referring to me as an object.”
Sighing, I let her go and tell her, “I’m doing the best I can here.”
“Yeah, I know,” she says as she grabs either side of my cut. Giving it a tug, she pulls me down for a quick kiss. “Thank you for saying I’m one of a kind. But if you even think about ‘trading me in,’ I’ll cut your dick off.”
I grin at her threat even though I remember all too well the sharp blade she keeps inside of her leather jacket.
