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“Why do you look so nervous?”
I licked my dry lips and took a sip of the strong ass margarita Dakota had made me. “Honestly? I guess I’m waiting for your wife to jump out at me. I’ve been petrified to ask where she is since we got here.”
Texas snorted and got to his feet, dipping his head before he left. “I’ll leave you to field this.”
The past two days I’d spent inside the clubhouse, meeting members, playing cards, eating far too much food, and enjoying the way this place made me feel.
Huntsman had come and gone like the wind, chattering on about still having to work while I was here, but Tex and Diddit had been around to give us a tour, take us into the city and have a look around like a couple of tourists.
One time, Ripley had even come with us, but he barely spoke two words—the tension between him and Dakota like a fucking storm swirling.
He was kind of an asshole. But I found myself already getting used to it.
Huntsman shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “My wife died when the boys were six and eight.”
My heart skipped, and my mouth dropped open. “I’m… I didn’t know. I’m really sorry.”
He snorted and leaned back in his chair, the most relaxed I’d seen him yet. “There’s a lot you don’t know, girl. Just not really sure how much you want to hear.” A warm wave rolled over me, and a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. Huntsman was confused by my instant change and raised his eyebrow. “What you grinning about now?”
I used my straw to stir my drink. “Nothing. It’s just, everyone at home calls me that, too.”
“Calls you what?”
“Girl. My uncle has done it since I was little. It was always… hey, girl… how’s it going, girl. It kind of became a thing. Reminds me of home,” I babbled on, trying to talk to him about my home life without having to discuss the fact that there were also around twenty other uncles who called me the same thing and a few old ladies too. I was scared he would shut down, just when I was beginning to get some kind of emotions and shit from him that weren’t angry, annoyed, or just… eh. That kind of thing needed to be done at the right time when he trusted me more.
“Mmm. Well, if we’re sharing…” he started with a sigh, letting me know whatever he had to tell wasn’t something he enjoyed speaking about. “I guess you deserve to hear since it was one of the reasons why Carly kept you away.”
I leaned in, eager to hear anything I could about my mom. What she was like. Why they were drawn to each other, and ultimately, why he wasn’t faithful. I wasn’t stupid, I knew there were plenty of men out there who lied and cheated, and I think within the biker community, a lot of the time it’s kind of expected of them given they were looked at as rebels, people who don’t conform, and sometimes just assholes.
The Brothers by Blood I always see as the exception, not the rule. These men found their life partners, and they fought hard for them, were loyal to them, and never even looked at another woman. They sure as hell never cheated.
“My father was the president of the club years ago. His dad was the vice president before him. For The Exiled, bloodline mattered. They wanted to have strong ties, weave each member’s family through the club, so it was strong like a rope. My father married the president’s daughter, that’s how he came to run the club. So when it was my turn, I didn’t have a fucking choice, my life partner was chosen for me… a daughter of a club member.”
I cringed. It was like a fucking arranged marriage, and I could tell by the way his face was pinched into a frown that it wasn’t something he would have chosen for himself.
“So everyone had to marry inside the club?” I asked, screwing up my nose like the words left a bad taste.
He shook his head. “Not everyone. Only the men pegged to be president or vice. They were expected to marry and have children with another member’s child. I guess in their eyes it showed loyalty and strength. To me, it was just fucking stupid.”
I giggled softly, hiding my mouth behind my drink as I slowly watched this man give a little rather than hold back.
“So I married Josie when we were young. We had two boys. That was fucking enough for me,” he went on. “Our marriage was hell. We only made it work because of the boys and the club.”
“What made it hell?”
“He’s trying to say nicely that Mom was a bitch.” Ripley took a seat at the table with us, relaxing back into the chair. I’d still yet to see a smile from him. Maybe that was something he just didn’t do? I really wasn’t sure.
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Huntsman defended, reaching over to slap his son around the head.
The thwack was loud, and Ripley instantly turned to glare at his father while he rubbed the sting away. “Why? It’s fucking true. You tell me one fucking maternal thing she ever did for us?” I saw the challenge between them. I wasn’t sure if this was something they talked about often, or whether my presence had brought up a sore point.
“Did you die? No. She managed to keep your dumbass alive, didn’t she,” Huntsman threw back before taking a sip of his beer, only to realize it was empty. “Tex! Bring me a fucking beer.”
“She also stuck me in a box and put me out on the sidewalk when I was three and threatened to post me to China,” Ripley scoffed, stealing the bottle of beer from Texas’ hand before Huntsman could get it, forcing Texas to go back to the bar for another.
It was strange, but I felt at home here. The way they argued, the way they talked, the casual nature where you knew that even if one of them raised his voice, that in five minutes they’d be over it, just like at the Brothers by Blood.
When Huntsman finally got his beer, he looked over at me and sighed. “She never wanted to be a mom but felt like her parents forced her into it. Forced her into marrying me. Forced her into being a parent when all she wanted to do was travel the world. I tried to do what I could, bought her plane tickets for holidays away, told her to take the time she needed. But she’d come back the next day, her dad having ripped them to shreds, telling her old ladies didn’t leave their men. So she turned sour. She turned into this person who hated the world, who hated life, and who didn’t care who she hurt or dragged down because if she couldn’t be happy, no one could.”
