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I smiled again, wider that time. Daddy almost said the really, really bad word that got him in trouble too. It must be a doozy since everyone always got in trouble for sayin’ it.
Anytime I cussed, it got me grounded, forever, again. But it wasn’t my fault. I was around bikers my whole entire life, and that was a really long time. Those were the words they used, bad ones.
Daddy’s younger brother, Uncle Noah, wasn’t any better with his potty mouth. It was just how us Jamesons were made.
Bad ass mothafuckas.
If Momma heard me say that, it would get me grounded forever again, but it was the truth. That was what they said all the time. I didn’t know what those words meant either, but it still sounded really cool like “asshole”.
“My baby girl is just defendin’ herself from the little shit, Mia.”
I nodded really, really fast so Momma could see how true that was.
“Really? Then explain how she is the one who keeps trying to kick him in the nuts, Creed?”
Daddy looked at me. “Why did you try to take him down again, baby?”
“Cuz he made me, Daddy.”
“See, Pippin, he made her.”
He’d called Momma “Pippin” since she was little like me. It was after Pippi Longstocking, the coolest girl of them all.
Momma rolled her eyes at him before looking at me. “How did he make you, Harley?”
“Cuz he was tellin’ Becky I couldn’t jump off the swing as high as him.”
Daddy grinned. “So, he was pickin’ on you?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
“CREED!”
“What, babe?”
“Don’t ‘what babe’ me. She needs to learn violence isn’t the answer to dealing with Jackson. You encourage her behavior.”
“They’re kids. She’s just showin’ him who’s boss.”
I nodded again, faster.
“Creed, this isn’t your MC world. It’s elementary school, and she needs to learn right from wrong.”
“I know right from wrong, Momma. Just sometimes wrong feels right.” I smiled, showing her my pearly whites while Daddy tried to hide his smile.
“Creed…”
“I didn’t say a word.”
Daddy always spoke with his eyes and face, and right now, he was in trouble for it.
Sorry, Daddy.
“Harley, your father and I need to have a word.”
People were always havin’ a word in my life where lots and lots of bad ones were used. Especially at the clubhouse. I guess havin’ a word meant cussin’. I wasn’t allowed to have words, cuz I was still little. But when I got bigger, I’d use all the words I already knew.
