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Shade’s eyebrows shot up. “You sure you’re only twelve?”
Jude raised his chin. “I’m twelve, not stupid.”
Yeah, Shade remembered being twelve, the age he began to plot his escape from hell. “Let’s go, kid.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Shade rolled his sled around to the rear of the farmhouse. He’d given his prez the heads up he was on his way.
Trip stood on the porch waiting, his hands on his hips, his black baseball cap pulled low, but his head tilted as he watched Shade shut down his Night Train.
Shade yanked the skull bandana down his face and tucked his sunglasses into the pocket of the leather jacket he wore under his cut. He debated whether to wear his colors, wondering if he’d be allowed to keep them after disappearing without a word for two weeks.
Trip didn’t look happy.
Shade wasn’t surprised.
He was also surprised it was only Trip waiting on his porch. He expected it to be the whole executive committee.
“Should I get off?”
Shade turned his head to the boy who still held on to him. “Yeah.”
Jude got off the Harley and Shade waited for him to remove the helmet and hand it to him. Shade dismounted and tucked the brain bucket he bought for Jude back in Georgia under his arm.
He would need to leave the helmet here for now. As long as Trip agreed to that.
Trip’s eyes slid from Shade, landed on Jude and stayed there as he and the boy climbed the porch steps.
Shade jerked his chin toward the boy next to him. “This is Jude.”
Trip didn’t say a fucking word, so Shade continued. “Jude, this is my prez, Trip.” He hoped to fuck Trip didn’t say otherwise.
He had already given Jude the rundown on the MC. How it was set up, what he should expect and some things he might not expect, too.
Jude had listened and asked questions, both curious and anxious, but sad, too. The kid had cried every fucking night in each motel room they stayed in. Every fucking night. That meant every night Shade would have to find a hidden spot and smoke a bowl before they settled in bed so he could handle it.
The kid needed to cry, so Shade let him cry. It was just difficult to bear because he remembered how long he cried every night himself.
Only he was four at the time and it took a lot longer for Julian to comprehend what was happening and why it was happening.
Trip finally jutted a hand out and Jude stared at it for a second with uncertainty before shaking it. “Jude,” Trip greeted.
Shade could see the club president brimming with questions, especially when he stared at the discoloration on Jude’s cheek.
Jude shuffled from foot to foot.
Shade was surprised he wasn’t doing the same. He scratched at his beard, trying to keep his shit together. “Stel here?”
Trip’s dark eyes sliced to him. “Yeah.”
Shade spoke slowly so he didn’t fuck up his words with the way his pulse was rushing. “Think she could keep him company inside while we stay out here?”
Shade needed to explain himself but didn’t want to do it in front of Jude. He’d already gone over the story with the kid a couple of times to make sure he understood it and why they needed it.
After a few seconds of silence, Trip nodded and went to the back door to yell inside for Stella. She appeared in the doorway in less than a minute, quickly masking her surprise at seeing a twelve-year-old boy she’d never seen before on her back porch.
Trip turned back to Shade before saying anything to his ol’ lady. “He your son?”
“Yeah.”
He didn’t miss Stella’s eyes go wide then narrowing after doing a bit of figuring in her head. It didn’t help that Jude seemed tall for twelve.
“Stel, this is Shade’s son, Jude,” Trip announced. “Take him inside, yeah? Shade and I need to have a chat.”
Stella forced her mouth into a smile as she held the door open for Jude. “C’mon in, Jude. It’s a lot warmer in here.”
Jude glanced at Shade and he gave the boy a slight nod. “Go with Stella. We won’t be long.”
“We’ll come in when we’re done,” Trip assured the boy.
They waited until not only the screen door closed but also the main door. The whole time Trip’s eyes were glued on Shade with his hands back on his hips. Once they heard the final click, Trip asked with his voice low, “How old is he?”
“Twelve.”
Trip’s eyebrows got lost under his ball cap. “Had him pretty young, then.”
“Yeah.”
“His mother?”
“Dead. Why I disappeared. Needed to go deal with that mess. Introduce myself to my kid. Get him to know me a bit before bringing him home.”
He hated lying to his president, but it was his secret to keep. It was also Jude’s. He asked Jude what story he wanted to go with long before they crossed the border into Pennsylvania.
