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Chuckling quietly, he shakes his head. “Dad wanted me to go to some stuck-up bible college in Upstate New York, and I did, just because I didn’t want to upset the old man, ya know? But everything I did upset him, always. Even when I was a kid, my parents disapproved of my friends, my taste in music, my choice in television shows or sports. Nothing I ever did made them happy.”
“I hate that for you.” And I do.
“I did it for years,” he says, rubbing his chin. “Anyway, bible college wasn’t for me, and what I really wanted to do was to learn how to do custom paint jobs. You know, like on motorcycles and cars and shit? Well, no son of my father’s was gonna work in a garage. I found a place near the college that was taking on an apprentice, so I applied and got the job.”
My jaw clenches, believing I know where this is heading.
“My parents came for a visit, and I was so tired of lying to them, I told them where I’d been working, and they were pissed. My father called me a disappointment, and my mother informed me that she didn’t even know who she’d raised. I was broken.”
“So, what did you do?” I ask, my heart aching for his younger self.
“I came here for the rally and met a few guys.” His lip quirks up in a grin. “One of those guys was Karma. He introduced me to the Black Hoods, and I’ve been with them ever since.”
“And the phoenix?”
“Rebirth. I’m not the same person my parents raised. I’m my own person, and I’ve made a good life for myself despite them and their religious bigotry. That phoenix is me rising from the ashes of my old life with them.”
I like that.
He tips his head toward my arm. “What about your phoenix?”
“Same thing. I got it to represent becoming a new person after having Harrison, and the flames represent my desire to protect him and give him the best life.”
“That’s quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”
I smile.Coincidence indeed.
TK and I have been alone together plenty these past few weeks, but in those times, we’d either been fighting or screwing. And now that we’re sitting here like civilized adults in a nice restaurant, it’s easy to see myself spending more time with him like this.
“You’re different,” I note.
He pauses with his drink to his lips. “Meaning?”
Shit, Cora. Must you always blurt shit out like that?
“When you’re out in public with your club, you’re different from when you’re here with me, one-on-one.”
“I like when I’m with you one-on-one, especially in the motel room.”
That’s so TK, only concentrating on one part of that sentence.Such a perv.
“When I first met you,” I continue, attempting to emphasize my point, “you were always so loud and bold, almost like you were putting on a show, entertaining people. But now, like this, you just seem to be yourself.”
He considers that. “I guess with you, I can be myself.”
“But I thought you guys all think of yourselves as brothers? Are you saying you can’t be yourself around them?”
“It’s just always been that way. I’m the funny one.” The waitress approaches with our steaming plates balanced on a tray. Once she places our food on the table, he waits until she’s gone and adds, “I’m also the good-looking one.”
“I hate to break it to ya, sweetie, but you’re not the only good-looking one,” I tease.
“The fuck you say?”
It takes effort, but I’m able to suppress my smile. “All the guys are good looking. Even Judge is hot, and he’s old. He’s like a sexy silver werewolf or something.”
His frown grows, like he just can’t see it. “You think Judge is hotter than me?”
I finish chewing my pasta and reveal, “Priest is pretty hot too.”
