“Killing the rich fuck if he gets off,” Bones said.
Wheelie’s eyes lit up. “Fuck yeah. I’ve been wanting to beat his ass since the first time we were at his house.” The three of them chuckled, then glanced back at the television.
“Have you heard from Clotille?” Bones asked softly.
Rock tipped his head back and drank deeply before he nodded. “She keeps calling and texting, but I never respond. I’m done with her.”
“It’s too bad. It seemed like you had something going there.”
“I thought we did too, but she wasn’t the person I thought she was. That’s the way women are.”
Bones nodded. “Yep. They’re nothing but ball busters. I keep sayin’ it ‘cause it’s true. The club women are the way to go.”
“Only thing is you ain’t gettin’ any from them. How the fuck can you go without pussy for so long?” Wheelie picked up the sandwich the prospect had just put in front of him.
“Why the hell you noticing that shit?” Rock smirked and Bones guffawed.
Wheelie jerked his head back. “Whoa, man. It’s the club girls who’ve been complaining about it. I don’t give a fuck if you get pussy or not.”
“Wheelie’s right. The girls are always asking me when you’re gonna come out of celibacy. Dude, the best way to forget a chick is to fuck her out of your system. The girls want you back inside them.”
Rock looked pointedly at Wheelie and Bones. “Stay the fuck outta my sex life. I’ll get pussy when I want to. All this shit with my family in Louisiana is weighing on me. Isa’s been bugging me ‘bout coming back for Henri’s sentencing. She wants me and Lille to make statements to the judge. Fuck all this shit.”
Bones slapped his hand against Rock’s shoulder. “We’re there for you, bro, if you need us. Any fuckin’ time.” Rock nodded. “We should go to the rally in Lincoln. A ton of our charter brothers will be there. It’ll be a good time. I think it’d be good if—” Bones put his beer on the table, his eyes fixed at the door. “Fuck,” he muttered, “he looks just like you.”
Rock turned around and saw Clotille, brown hair flowing around her.Fuck, she’s beautiful.He sucked in his breath. She stood just inside the club by the door, holding the hand of a boy about twelve years old, who had a mop of dark hair and eyes black as coal. Rock’s insides lurched when he saw the young boy.That’s my son.He pushed back and went over to Clotille, her heady scent of vanilla, sandalwood, and juniper berries wrapping around him like a blanket.
“Hi, Rock.” She smiled at him as she gently prodded the boy forward. “This is your son. Andrew, this is your father.” The boy swallowed hard and cast his eyes downward.
Rock cleared his throat. “Hey there, buddy. It’s good to meet you. We’re going to have to spend some time getting to know each other.”
The boy nodded. “My mom said you’re a biker. Is one of those motorcycles outside yours?”
“Yeah. You wanna see?”
The boy craned his neck at Clotille. “Can I, Mom?”
She brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Yes. Go on. Maybe your dad can take you for a ride around the parking lot.”
A big smile spread over Andrew’s face before he looked shyly at Rock. “Would you take me for a ride?”
“You bet. Let’s see if you can guess which bike is mine.” Rock glanced at Clotille, and then he and his son walked out into the bright sunshine.
***
The week wentby so fast, and it seemed to Clotille that Rock was trying to shove twelve years into those short seven days. At the end of each day, she and Andrew would fall down exhausted on their beds, but the way her son’s eyes sparkled each time he saw or talked about Rock made every weary moment worth it.
For the past couple days, she’d left father and son alone while she’d taken long walks on the numerous hiking trails in the area. She loved the quaintness of the small town and the camaraderie of the club, and Andrew thrived in ways he’d never had before. When she went to Connecticut after Rock left, she’d told Andrew about Rock. At first the boy was angry, but the more she told him about what a wonderful person his father was and how he wanted to be a part of his life, the more he liked the idea.
Luc had never kept in contact with Andrew after they’d divorced. She’d always felt that Luc knew Andrew wasn’t his son, thus he forgot about him. Frederick hadn’t been a good father figure. He didn’t like children and when Andrew had visited during the summer and school breaks, he was cold toward the boy and irritable to her during her son’s stay. When Clotille visited her son at boarding school, Frederick never came.
The past week, Andrew had come alive, and he kept asking her if they could stay another week. And Rock had worn a perpetual smile, which was a nice change from his usual stony face. When he found out they were at the Palace Hotel, he’d promptly checked them out and given his room to them, taking an empty one in the basement. Andrew loved being around the club, and the guys tried to outdo each other on teaching him the right way to change a motorcycle tire and play darts, pool, and cards.
The only dark spot in the time she’d spent there was the way Rock interacted with her. He was polite and respectful, but he acted like they were social acquaintances and it broke her heart.I still love him so much, but I think he’s fallen out of love with me. It tears me up inside.
Whenever the club had their parties, she’d take Andrew out for dinner and a movie or a game of miniature golf. Then they’d come in through the back and take the other set of stairs until they were safely in their room. After Andrew had fallen asleep, she’d sit in the room, staring out at the inky darkness, her heart lurching every time she heard a woman’s voice or laughter. She’d drive herself crazy picturing Rosie or Lola kissing her Rock—she still considered himhers—and him hovering above the club girls, thrusting inside them. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop the images.
One afternoon, she sat behind the club and watched the Colorado River gushing over the stones. Clotille turned around when she heard the pine needles crunch behind her. She shielded her eyes with her hand, smiling when she recognized Rock walking toward her.
