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I laugh, "Yeah, the brothers begged him to take them away for the night, hoping they'd learn their lesson; six months later, they took the brother's bikes for a ride; a few bikes didn't survive."
The brothers' eyes widened, and I nodded with a chuckle. When the women party, they fucking party.
"Fuck, if I can get Liv to ever forgive me, remind me not to let her hang with those women."
I laugh along with everyone else at Smokey's terrified rasp. No one wants their old ladies near the Untamed crew. Each new woman they meet, they turn—my mother being one of them.
She decided it would be fun to paint my father's 'man cave' back at their house pink just last week. Fuck, old ladies are a hand full.
The redhead from two years ago pops into my mind, and I swallow my sigh, knowing I would have most likely made her mine despite not even speaking to her or knowing her eye color. It's the same feeling my dad said Momma had on him before even speaking. According to him, the redhead had looked at me a few times, and even as she went to answer a call with her friend, she looked my way again when she returned. Still, instead, I was gone, fucking a bitch who the club can't seem to get rid of. After I'd fucked Helena, who has now become a clubwhore but wanted to keep her legal name, I walked out of the hallway only to make eye contact with the redhead who was then leaving. I couldn't see her eye color, but she instantly pulled me in. My body had a mind of its own. Still, just as I stepped forward, she shook her head at me, which made my fucking heart pound, and when she tilted her head to the table, she'd just vacated where the bitch I fucked was having a meltdown seeing the girls leave, that's when I realized they were at the club together, for Helena's fucking hen do. When her 'fiancé' came and found me, instead of getting angry, the fucker thanked me. It turned out he was being pressured into marriage with her because she'd told his parents she was pregnant and miscarried, which was obviously a lie. Now she's a clubwhore, fucking all the brothers that'll have her except me, which pisses her off.
I don't fuck clubwhores.
When the redhead walked out the door, I instantly went to follow her, hoping she'd change her mind because there was just something about her, but my father gripped my arm and told me she didn't seem like the girl to be sloppy seconds, and I know he was right, but fuck did it piss me off, and the look Shelby was supporting also didn't escape my notice. I asked if she knew her, but she declined, yet the look stayed for the rest of the night.
She looked like someone had just spent all of her cash.
I clear my throat and paste on a grin my blood brother sees right through, knowing my turmoil before I rasp, "They've already recruited Momma. She painted dad's'man cave' pink, so brace yourselves, men."
They all curse and groan, making me chuckle before I bang the gavel, ignoring my brother's looks. I haven't seen the redhead since that night two years ago, and maybe it's for the best. We brothers now have trust issues, thanks to Hairy. I don't need another distraction right now. What I need is to become a better pres for my brothers.
That's it, and that's what I'm going to do. I doubt I'd see her now if I hadn't seen her in two years. The goddess is gone; she is probably married with a kid or two by now, and I have my club.
Fuck, why does that thought make me feel sick?
"Alright, Tats, how's the Devil's Tat's doing?" I rasp, ignoring the pain and focusing on what matters right now.
Chapter 4
Sarah – Current Day – Age 25
I lean back in my white chair in my room and stretch after emailing another application. I just graduated college this morning, and instead of celebrating with friends and family, I came home to my parents' house, where I still live, helping them as much as I could by applying for jobs. Even if it's just a starter position at a desk until I can work my way up to fixing cars and bikes, anything will do to help bring in money for my family.
I've always loved the fascination of anything mechanical, and that's the field I want to continue. I know I just have to be patient.
I grew up helping my grandpa fix his 1965 Mustang. He'd left it to me in his will when he died twelve years ago. I had sold it to help pay for my sister's medical bills when I turned eighteen and had been given the keys from his lawyer—not that I told my parents that, and I never will. I don't regret selling it, even if it hurt, but I know my grandpa would be proud of me.
Sighing, I check my phone when it pings and smile at seeing that it's Amy.
Amy – Sheila wants to celebrate with her auntie.
I shake my head. She's sent me a picture of her one-year-old smiling at the camera and holding a sign saying congratulations, Auntie Sarah. You can just see Dylan in the background, painting with a cheesy grin on her face.
Those girls look so much like their mother; it's unbelievable, right down to the green eyes and the dimple on the chin.
Adorable; God help Adam when they're teenagers.
I sent some kissy emojis back. I want to celebrate; I do, but I can't. I need to get a better job. Don't get me wrong, I love working at Brendan's Diner. Brendan is in his late sixties and a surrogate grandfather to me, but he can only afford to pay me so much. I need a higher-paying job. Momma's taken part-time work at the supermarket in town while my dad has taken up more shifts at the firehouse. We're all working ourselves to the grave, but in my eyes, it's worth it. My sister is my best friend and my world.
She's been in remission for about six years now, but her bills are still high, and she needs regular check-ups and medication.
With a sigh, I get back to my applications. Momma and Dad have had to take Mary to an appointment at the hospital for her annual check-up. They went straight from my graduation ceremony and will bring pizza back to celebrate. I tried telling them it was fine; I know money is tight, but they wouldn't hear of it. Dad said I've taken a back seat because of Mary's condition, and he doesn't want me to resent them, but I never could.
My parents are trying their best with what God's given them; the least I could do is make things easier.
A few hours later, with over a dozen applications filled out, I checked the time and furrowed my brows. It's five in the evening. My parents should have been back by now. I go to grab my phone, but it rings as I pick it up, and I see Momma and Mary smiling back at me. I quickly answered.
"Momma? Is everything okay?"
