Titus’ eyebrows pull together like he’s remembering something.
“She became an addict,” Dad’s voice is raw. “I tried to step in, but she wouldn’t accept my help. She told me the club wouldn’t allow it.”
Titus is shaking his head slowly. When he speaks, his words are measured, as if he’s choosing each one carefully. “I think I know who you’re talking about. She died from an overdose?”
“Yeah,” Dad croaks. “I couldn’t save her.”
“The club couldn’t either,” Titus’ voice is grave. “The club doesn’t allow addicts. It’s a liability, not just when on the back of a bike, but in life. You can’t trust someone who is only focused on their next fix and the club breathes trust.” He pauses for a second to allow those words to sink in. “The club tried to get her help, more than once. They sent her to numerous rehab facilities, but it didn’t work and she ended up leaving the club before her death.”
“An addict who doesn’t want help can’t be helped,” I whisper the words, knowing how true they are.
My dad’s shoulders slump with a level of defeat I’ve never seen in him before. He looks at me and nods. “I know.”
What isn’t said is that it didn’t matter when he needed to put his grief somewhere. It was easier to blame the club than her. It was easier to blame himself than her too, I’m sure.
“I love your daughter,” my man’s voice is strong and sure as the ghosts of the past fade into mist. “I’m going to marry her. She’s already my Old Lady. I’m going to build a family with her and losing you completely would hurt her. I’ll never put her in the position to choose between us, I’ll never demand such a thing from her.”
My dad’s eyes are misty when he looks at Titus. They stare at each other for a long time, but I don’t even feel the impulse to squirm as the silence stretches around us.
“Okay,” Dad says with a nod of his head which feels final and loosens something in me.
Some of the worry I’ve been holding onto falls away. I didn’t even realize I was worried about the day when I would need to choose between them permanently.
But, then again, didn’t I already make that choice? I stood behind the walls of the SOMC and told my father to leave. I stayed with Titus when it would have been easy to go with my dad.
I think I knew that a day would come when that choice could become permanent and the bridge would be burned. Now, it feels like it might not come to pass.
“I won’t force you into the position to choose either,” Dad tells me, his words direct and his tone like a promise.
What was a tentative truce when we walked in here feels stronger, like it has better footing. Isn’t that always the way with a little understanding?
When the moment breaks, we all stand together. I barely stop myself from gasping when Dad extends his hand toward Titus. When they shake hands, I quickly wipe a single tear away. I try, but I can’t stop it from falling.
Dad steps around his desk and pulls me into a gentle hug. “Congratulations,” he whispers against the top of my head.
“Thanks, Dad,” the words are muffled against him, but he hears them.
Titus leads me out of Dad’s office and I’m kind of in a daze until he’s clipping my helmet into place on my head. I look up at him and the smile on my face is so wide it hurts my cheeks.
“How’d you know who he was talking about? The woman?” I can’t help but ask when we step outside the station.
Titus shifts his weight slightly as we stop next to his bike. “She became a cautionary tale, one my dad used to teach me that I can’t be lax and have to keep an eye on things.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “She caused a lot of problems in theclub because of her addiction. She made choices that hurt people in the club.”
My eyebrows pull together and my curiosity gets the better of me. “What do you mean?”
“She was Playboy’s mom.”
The words land between us and my heart aches as understanding fills me. I nod once and don’t push for more. He won’t tell me and I understand why. It’s not his story to tell.
We don’t say anything else; we don’t need to. I simply climb on the back of his bike after he gets on and steadies it for me. His large hand wraps around my calf and squeezes as the engine roars to life.
My arms wrap around his torso right before he speeds out of his spot and down the road toward home. While the wind whips around me and joy fills my heart, I can’t help but think about Dad’s story. I never knew that about him, but I don’t think he’s ever allowed me to learn much about him at all.
The moment we get home, Titus doesn’t give me a chance to get lost in my thoughts. He tosses me over his shoulder and slaps my ass as he strides into our house and directly to our room.
He doesn’t listen when I smack his ass and demand, “Put me down.”
I didn’t think he would and I have to fight to not smile.
