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It’s a nice apology. A very sweet apology. I think it’s a great place to start to make amends and figure out where we can go from here. I say go from here, but one thing is certain. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just about ready to say that and go on with my own apology when there’s a loud screeching meow, a hiss, and then a panicked scuttle of claws against the tiles. I think for a second that this has to be some crazy ringtone Hobart has on his phone to match the kitten lock screen he has, but then a blur of orange and white fur goes darting into the middle of the circle and runs straight past me.
Holy chili cheese dogs, was that a frenzied fuzzy feline that just went streaking by with a sticky flypaper strip stuck to its hind end?
CHAPTER 12
Ayana
“Kowabunga Meowabunga!’
“Mr. Meowabunga!”
“Mr. Meowabunga, stoppppppp!”
“Nooooo, kitty!”
“Is that the flypaper?”
“Oh my god, that’s the sticky flypaper strip.”
“That one was brand new, so it’s extra sticky.”
It’s actually pretty funny to watch seven grown men move at once, breaking from the circle of biker intimidation that they decided they were going to put on for Smoke and his granny’s benefit, and go chasing after a lightning-fast feline with flypaper dragging behind.
Mr. Meowabunga, the club cat loved by all, races out of the main room and down the hall, heading toward the big industrial-style kitchen. The brothers go chasing after him. I have no doubt he’ll be caught in short order, bathed, groomed, and brushed out lovingly, then spoiled and fawned over all night. No one could have guessed that the little orange runt—a very sick cat who was limping and just skin and bones—found behind the club’s garbage dumpster would one day become the most cherished being in the entire club. No cat has ever been more beloved in the history of felines in all the world, that I’m quite sure.
Dad gives me a look as the guys break formation, and I shrug. It’s as good a time as any to break the tension in the room and get on with a solution to all our problems.
I lean in close and whisper to Dad, “Can you give me a minute? Or like thirty?”
“Sure, honey. I can do that.”
“Can you do it by working everything out with his granny so that she no longer wants to be enemies? Offer cookies? I think Master Baker made a fresh batch this morning.”
“That’s right.” Dad’s eyes start sparkling. “You know, the world thought I’d wreck you because I’m me. If I had a dollar for every time I got judged for having the brothers around you, I’d have a big old bank vault full of dollar bills. But the truth is that I’ve raised a wonderful daughter who blows me away with her talent and astounds me with her intelligence, creativity, and endless wisdom. You astound me, Ayana. Truly. I think you turned out okay despite all the nay-sayers.”
Well, gosh darn. If that doesn’t set my heart burning, I don’t know what does. To cover up the swelling in my chest and the sting in my eyes, I wrap my arms around my dad’s big chest and hug him tight. “I do have the occasional good idea when it comes to cookie bribery.”
“More than that.” Dad strokes a hand down my hair.
“Thanks for not tearing him limb from limb.”
“I still might. If he ever lies to you or hurts you again. You deliver that message for me, will you?”
“Okay. And oh, ask his granny about her Glocks. I know you prefer other guns, but you both might have some common ground.”
“I’ll do that.”
When I step out of my dad’s arms and face Smoke, he’s looking at me with his face melted into a soft expression that is just a tad wistful and a whole lot suffused with understanding. I know he’s never going to have what my dad and I have. I don’t know where his parents are, why they left him, or what happened, but I’m going to ask. I’m going to ask because I want to get to know him, and not just out of obligation. I want to know him because I want to care. It’s a risk, but it’s one I’m going to take. I do know that even though he never had parents, he has his granny and brothers now, and their love is nothing to scoff at. Loyalty doesn’t have to come by blood. My dad loves each and every one of his club brothers like they’re his real brothers, if not more.
While my dad walks up to Smoke’s granny, smiles at her, and says something I can’t hear, which makes her give him a reluctant smile herself, I crook a finger at Smoke. “Come here,” I mouth. “Follow me.” I turn, and the brothers give me a pass before following my dad to sit around the room on the leather couches and chairs.
