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She can’t climb it, so I’m intrigued as to what the feck she’s doin’. Her tanned skin looks to be smooth and blemish free. Her Converse covered feet carry her out ta the perimeter, and that’s when I see another girl, this one blonde, rushin’ towards her. They’re laughin’ and gigglin’ as they make their way back ta the house. They don’t see me, but I certainly see them. Both are pretty, but it’s the brunette who’s captured my attention.
They’re still laughin’ as they settle on the lounge chairs. I can’t deny myself the stunnin’ view, and I stay outside far longer than I wanted. As the sun sets and they move to come inside, I do the same.
I should freshen up. The party is goin’ta be in full swing when I head downstairs, which is fine by me, as long as I get another glimpse of the pretty brunette. I couldn’t tell her age from where I was standin’, but I have a feelin’ she’d be eighteen at least. That’s my feckin’ hope, because I want to cup her face in my hands and feel her lips on mine.
I haven’t been with a woman in a fair while now, so a much needed night of fuckin’ will be good. And right now, the only thing on my mind is the wee lass.
TWO
CLOVER
THE PAST
Fifteen Years Old
Death—the visitor that most of us try to hide from, to run from.
Nobody wants to die, but there’s no running from what’s inevitable.
It’s something that will touch each of us at some point in our lives. There are things in this world we can never escape, and the inevitable happens. And when it does, we either go to heaven or hell, depending on how we treated others in our lifetime and how we lived our lives. There are rules, commandments, we have to follow.
When I was a little girl, my father sat me down to tell me about my mama. At least, he tried to. I could tell he was hurting as much as I was. Possibly more. He’d lost a lifetime partner, and I’d lost my mother. Mama died from cancer, so I never had a chance to grow up with her around.
Dad had to ease my worries because I kept asking why she had to go away. I’d go to school and watch as the other kids' mothers dropped them off. Their mamas’ would give them hugs and kisses, and I wanted that too.
Dad told me she was a woman that came with a force behind her. She was a storm raging through life, and he was the only one to tame her. For a time.
Over the years, he told me how much I reminded him of her. Now I’m a teenager, it’s as if she’s a living, breathing entity inside me. It’s the only place I feel her. I’ve seen movies where people say they’ve lost loved ones and they don’t feel them anymore. I guess I’m lucky. She’s still here, looking out for me through my eyes.
Deep inside, I know she was strong. But even after all the stories my father told me about her, I’ve realized I’ll only ever have his version of their life together.
I’ve pieced together the roller coaster my mama was on while being married to the man who raised me. It wasn’t easy for her. Life never is. The photos we have at home show her as a happy, smiling woman. She doted on Dad, and it’s obvious just how much she loved him in the way she looks at him in the pictures. Each one shows just how her gaze tracks his. They were the perfect couple until cancer stole her from him. There was unconditional love there. Pure love.
There wasn’t anything tainting her view of him. Even though Dad has always been a part of the motorcycle club, he was good to her. He loved her more than he loved his own life. And now, I’m the only part of her that’s left. And I know it hurts him that she’s not here to see me grow up.
The men in my family come from a long line of heroes, confronting death, and forcing it to its knees. Once day, when I come face to face with death, dad taught me to look it right in the eye and not flinch. If it comes calling, I’ve always figured I’d be strong—that I’d be just like him. And I want that. There’s no way I’m going to be a weak person, not even in the face of danger.
Dad has made sure I’ve grown up with a hardened shell. I don’t trust anyone who isn’t part of the family, the club. The men who would do anything for my father are the same men who would do anything for me. And since I was a little girl, I’ve believed no one else matters. I’ve lived by the law of the club.
