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No matter how Rock had phrased it, she’d assumed Tiger’s mother had been killed like Nicole had. A casualty of their violent world. But by his own father…the father who had raised him through his teens, whose right hand he’d been into his adult years, until he walked away because he couldn’t take any more.
Her stomach had plummeted, her chest tight. She wanted to hold him, wanted to smash something. But what was vibrating in him had her settling her hand on his shoulder, a simple contact, telling him she was here. Listening. He was still staring into the distance, now far past the kids on the monkey bars and swings.
"I never told my dad, but I’d met him once, the guy. Zayn, a convenience store employee who slipped her candy bars and made her laugh. He was studying to be a teacher. She took me to a carnival with him. On the way back home, she told me, ‘I wanted you to meet him. Colt wouldn’t understand, but I think you do. Or you will. I love your father very much. But to keep my heart from splitting, I spend time with Zayn. It seals up the cracks.’”
Tiger shook his head. “The year after she was gone, I recalled those words so many times, and what my dad said in the bedroom. They’re in my head like this tattoo is in my skin. She could have left my dad at any time, but she was telling the truth. He was the love of her life. She just didn't know how to live with him, and those few moments of difference with Zayn eased the pain, spilled some of it off, so she could keep being my dad's old lady."
At her look, he lifted a shoulder. "People are always trying to say what's normal, but really, in the billions of lives going onin this world, what manual exists to tell you what's normal and what's not?"
He sighed. “The other part of it was us. She knew Dad wouldn’t let us go, not without a fight, and she couldn’t abandon us to the life he was pulling us into. She kept thinking she could convince us in little subtle ways to take a different path, no matter that my father’s will on it was like a tidal wave. She was going to get hit by it, no matter why. Just like Nicole.”
He was silent for a few moments. “Colt…accepted it. He always accepted things in a way I didn't, wanted Dad's approval in a way I didn't. He was my little brother. I couldn’t stop loving him. Never have, even though I want to tear him apart for what happened to Nicole. I wanted to love my dad, but he made it so fucking hard, I kept falling short. I probably should have kept trying to hold onto the hope for it, because it was when I let it go that it moved into gut-eating hatred. My brother and I fought until the wedge between us became a wall. I took my mom’s name, Roseland, and left McAlister behind.”
He lifted his gaze to her. “I wasn’t lying. That kid whose lunch money we stole? It kept coming back into my head, again and again. Somehow it was the tip of the knife that sliced through, showing me the way out. Not because I wanted to be some white-bread kid in the suburbs, but because it reminded me there was more out there.
“By the time I was in my early twenties, I’d seen plenty of guys in the club get killed, badly hurt or put in prison. Colt got nabbed for a felony and served a couple years. That was when I knew I had to break free or that was my future, too. It was a fucking miracle it hadn’t already happened, but my dad always said my brains were what he valued. He’d throw Colt into shit with the other guys but hold me back, keeping me learning. Because I was the one he thought should take his place. But in the end, it’s like Rock said. Colt belonged in that world. I didn’t.”
She drew his attention to what she typed next. “I’m glad you’re not part of that world. So are people like Brian and Greta, Maryshka, Red and Larry. Your friends. Your family. The one you built yourself.”
He nodded. Took her phone and set it aside. She let out a little gasp when he slid his arms around her to hold her rib-crushingly tight.
He put his head against the side of hers. “So glad you’re okay, Mistress. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you here, but I wanted you to be part of this world with me, while I tried to figure out how to fit into it now. I didn’t have company the first time around.”
She knew that feeling. She also recognized what was gripping his soul, and so she held him with the answering embrace of someone who’d also had a family member taken from her, way too brutally and abruptly.
They stayed that way a while. Then something bounced off her back.
When they drew apart, she saw a colorful ball rolling away, the kind sold in big bins at dollar stores. A boy waved his apologies with a big grin on his face. He scampered past to retrieve it.
Tiger managed a half-smile. “Fucking kids.” He ran his hands up and down her arms. “So, want to go check out the craft booths? Do some girl shopping while I hold your purse and pretend to look interested, when all I’m really doing is looking at you and that fantastic smile when you find something you like?”
Charmer.She would like to check out the booths, maybe bring back a souvenir for the TRA women. Afterward, though…
She typed it out and showed him. “You promised to teach me how to ride.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
They trailered the motorcycles to a nearby high school parking lot he said was a good place to practice on a weekend day.
Though he’d told her it was best for teaching, when they climbed into the trailer and she was looking at the smaller motorcycle again, she gave him a look. “You’re sure this isn’t a ‘girl’ bike?” she typed and signed.
“Have you ridden a horse before?” At her nod, he pointed to the bike. “The first time you rode, did they give you a gentle mount, or the one breathing fire out of his nostrils?”
He ran an affectionate hand over the chrome of the Street Glide. No question which kind of horse he saw in it. “Even on that gentle horse, the first time you mounted was probably unnerving, seeing how far away the ground was. Plus you realized what was between your legs had its own mind and propulsion system.”
He rolled his eyes at her pointed look between his. “No argument there, but don’t make me smack your ass, Mistress. Need you to focus here. This smaller bike can kill you as easy as a big hog like mine if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
He was teasing her about the smack, but his serious tone reinforced the admonishment. He went over the controls and the order of their use, the relationship of clutch, throttle, gears and braking. Key, ignition, kill switch. When she’d ridden with him, he’d pointed out those basics, but now he went over them again, far more thoroughly.
“We’re going to keep it simple, because none of this is simple at first. You’ll make squares, like a city block. Follow the perimeter of the parking lot, all right turns. Then turn around and do left turns. Followed by a few figure eights. As my passenger, you’ve learned to trust the tilt of the bike in the turns, but when you’re the driver, you’ll be worried you’re going to tip over.”
He kicked the back tire with the toe of his riding boot. “You can trust your tires. They’ll hold you, long as you don’t do any fancy low turn trick riding. Do me a favor and don’t get that cocky your first time out.” He smiled at her. “Ready to get on?”
Following his direction, she turned the handlebars toward her, giving the bike a lower set to throw her leg over. He held onto the bike as she did it, something she found she needed. “You have to learn to balance yourself on a bike, same as when you learned to balance yourself on a bicycle, only there’s a lot more weight involved.” He touched her chin, bringing her eyes up. “And don’t forget, if you focus on the ground in front of you, you’re going to screw with your balance. You scan ahead and keep your chin and eyes up.”
How often had she touched his jaw to bring his eyes up, or tell him to lower them, to trust the direction she was taking him? A faint smile touched his face, as if his thoughts had gone to the same place, then he was back to his instructions.
“When you get started, remember, ease off the clutch, let that pull you forward. You don’t need to give it gas or change the gears right away. Just work with that and get a feel for thebrakes. Then, once you feel comfortable with all that, we’ll go onto the other things.” He touched her knee. “I’m right here, and we’re all good.”
