Page 67 of Thick

“Restrict them? Keep them from doing or saying too much?”

I let out a laugh, and then raised my index finger. “Funny you ask. There was one. Well, probably more than one, but one that stands out more than any other. I wrote this series about boxers, and there was this guy. Big bald-headed guy named Mike. He was always doing and saying crazy shit, and I’d get done writing a scene and then I’d look at it and think what in the fuck did this guy just do? I’d delete it and start over. The same thing would happen. A few times, I left the chapters, thinking I’d just go back and delete them. It didn’t matter. Eventually, he did something even more ridiculous. I decided it was just who he was.”

She smiled, and then covered her mouth with her hand. “He cut off a guy’s finger and grilled in on the barbeque grill.”

I was embarrassed. “You read that one?”

“I liked him.”

“I guess that’s good.”

“Do you think when you have characters like Mike that they’re really the inner you? Your subconscious? Maybe that’s why you can’t change them.”

“I’ve wondered about that.” I tapped the tip of my index finger against my temple. “I mean, it all comes from in here.”

“I think it’s amazing.”

“What?” I chuckled. “That I subconsciously want to cut off a guy’s finger and grill it?”

“That you’ve got what seems like an endless supply of stories, characters, and life lessons rattling around in your head.”

I relaxed in my seat and studied her for a moment. “Do you believe in God?”

“I do.”

“I believe God has a place for all of us. I think it’s our responsibility to find that place, not his responsibility to put us there. Some people spend a lifetime on that journey. Trying to find out where they belong. I’m lucky I found my place this early in life.”

“Do you think being in the MC is where you belong?”

My response came without thought. “I do.”

“Don’t take this wrong, but do you think it’s God’s will that you be there?”

“I found the MC immediately after my parents passed away. They’re my family, and they’re the only family I have. God’s had many opportunities to change things, and he hasn’t done it yet. So, yeah. I think it’s his will.”

“You want to know what I think?”

“Absolutely.”

“I spent a lot of time thinking about this after what happened to Wheatland. Here’s what I came up with.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and leaned forward. “Law enforcement officers are vigilantes. Most people don’t see them that way, but they are. They seek those who’ve committed acts against others, and they administer justice. In Psalm, the bible said, ‘give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.’ And, in Genesis, Simeon and Levi avenged the rape of their sister, Dinah. They killed all the men in the city where the rapist lived. So, the bible not only mentions vigilantes, but it makes no mention of condemning their actions. Maybe you are right where you belong.”

Finding a woman as beautiful as Bobbi was a once in a lifetime occurrence. To have her be open-minded was a one in a million chance. Her support of me and my actions with the club was something I would have hoped for, but never expected.

I gazed into her brown eyes and smiled.

She was right.

I was where I belonged.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Bobbi

Everything. I could smell everything. Freshly cut grass. The hot dogs that a vendor was selling on the boardwalk. Funnel cakes. A distant restaurant’s lunchtime special. The odor from the exhaust of a truck ahead.

I could taste the salt in the air.

I extended my arms to the side, and allowed the rush of wind to beat against them. I’d always dreamt of riding on a motorcycle, but doubted I’d ever have the chance. Even after Tate offered it, I convinced myself it would never happen.