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"Your relationship is pretty unique," he told me, preaching to the choir.
I couldn't help but wonder at times what my life would be like without him. More dangerous, surely. Less comfortable as well since he'd come to me with some contacts that I didn't have at the time. But also just much more lonely.
I loved Astrid.
She was like a little sister to me.
But maybe that was it.
Where Astrid was someone who looked up to me, someone who I protected and provided for, Cam was simply my peer, someone on the same page as me, someone sharing the same burdens of care with me.
He was my sounding board, my closest confidant, my dearest friend.
When we had come across Astrid, and I had this bone-deep need to take her in, brush her off, try to rebuild the broken pieces, he had been right there with me, helping me, doing drops when I was busy trying to help Astrid out of a hole, or bringing us dinner. Then, finally, when she was ready, showing Astrid that she could trust men, that there were some good ones out there still.
Astrid referred to us as Mom and Dad at times. Which was mostly said in jest. As a lot of truth often was.
We had been like parents to her.
We sat up at night worrying about her if she was out.
We nursed her when she was sick or hurt.
We tried to build up her confidence, teach her life skills, then, eventually, show her how to be part of our lifestyle in a productive way.
We were, for all intents and purposes, a little family of misfits. And as the hierarchy went - both by age and experience - we were much like the parents and she was like the little sister or grown ass daughter. If not for him, I never could have helped Astrid the way I had, never could have provided the safe, stable place she so desperately needed.
And I would have been so, so lonely without him.
I couldn't help but wonder, too, what his life would have been like without me.
Sure, it seemed like he had some colleagues - as shitty as they were - so he had been able to come up in some ranks somewhere, get a reputation for himself. But would that have been able to continue? Would he ever have felt like he could let his guard down? That he had a place he belonged? A family?
It had taken a bullet to bring us together, so that scar was something I wore with an odd sort of pride, with joy even. When I was on a job alone, I could catch myself touching it for reassurance, to show me that while I might have been alone in the moment, I was never alone because I always had him.
"He seems like a good guy."
"The best. We're lucky to have him. I'm sure your sisters feel the same way about you."
To that, Roderick snorted. "I think my sisters feel about me all the time the way you felt toward Cam when he was mad about you going on this trip with me. They think I am too over-protective for no reason."
"Because you shielded them from all the ugly that you are intimately acquainted with," I supplied.
"Maybe that was a fuck up," he agreed, clearly not having had the luxury, even as a young boy.
"It was well-intentioned. But I guess... if you always gate a kid from the kitchen to keep them safe, they never actually learn that it is because the oven is hot."
"That's true," he agreed, nodding, thinking of all the times he had gated his sisters.
"Do they know about you? About being a Henchmen?"
"They call me a hypocrite," he agreed, rolling his eyes. "I protect them from everything while I am out breaking the law left and right."
"Surely, they must know that you are doing it all for them, right?"
"They think it is for our ma. And that is true enough. She slaved away for years for us. I wanted to make her life easier."
"Yeah, but they're young. So by doing it for your mother, you did it for them as well."
"Like you said... they're young," he said, giving me a knowing look.
"When did we get so old, huh?" I asked, knowing that was what he was thinking. Wondering when the hell we went from being young and stupid ourselves to suddenly old and wise enough to look down on others and call them young and stupid.
Though, I had a feeling that Roderick, much like me, never got much of a chance to be a kid, to be carefree and selfish.
Maybe that was part of the draw to The Henchmen for someone who - from the outside - didn't seem to be cut from the biker cloth.
A biker gang - especially an outlaw one - gave him the freedom to finally let loose a little. Be reckless. Drive too fast. Drink too much. Sleep around. He got to be free to have some fun while also making a living. And likely supporting his mother. If not fully, then mostly. And, I would imagine, his sisters a bit as well. Especially if any were in school or something.
