Page 13 of Truck Off

“Piece of shit, son,” he mumbles under his breath.

His and Jonas’s relationship has always been strained, even before Mom left. Jonas wanted nothing to do with the MC life Dad tried to force on him. Distance hasn’t improved things between them, and I’m stuck in the middle, dealing with both their shitty attitudes.

“Yeah, well. I’ll figure it out. I always do.” Turning away before I let loose of my anger, I head back to the kitchen to put the groceries away.

“You could stop being so damn stubborn and let the MC help.” Dad calls out, not even bothering to temper his tone. He knows I hate talking about the MC. “Edge and a few of the guys stopped by today.”

“What?” I whirl around in surprise. He knows I don’t want them in this house.

“Lina! We need help.” His voice is rough and gravelly, and way louder than he usually talks to me. “I know you’re doing your best, and I love you for it, but we’re barely hanging on.”

“I’ve got it covered.” I insist.

“No, you don’t. How long before they turn the electricity off?”

I shake my head because I don’t want to answer that question. I have to make a good faith payment by the end of the week, and it better be significant or else we’re screwed.

“I don’t want their help, Dad. Not after—” My voice cracks. I can’t even say the words out loud.

I was fifteen when the former MC president, his club name was Smoke, approached Dad about marrying me when I turned eighteen. He wanted Mom, but since she was gone, he decided her carbon copy was a suitable alternative despite how young I was.

He was forty-seven, hard, and one of the worst humans I’ve ever met. Dad didn’t outright refuse, but he hesitated. That hesitation might as well have been a refusal because it was enough to piss Smoke off.

He left us alone for the next three years, but when I turned eighteen, Smoke approached me himself. By that point, I’d learned how to stand up for myself. I refused without hesitation. He left with a promise to one day own me. For two years, our life was hell on earth.

Smoke purposefully sent Dad on the most dangerous missions for the MC. That’s when Dad’s drinking got really bad. He’d started when Mom left, but Smoke’s actions sent him over the edge. Jonas was already gone by then, and I lived in constant fear of my future and my life.

I’d never been so glad to hear of a man’s death as I was the day Dad came home and told me Smoke was gone. Shot in the head by a rival MC. I was twenty and had never been happier.

“You know Edge is nothing like Smoke, right? He’s cleaned up the MC. They’re almost legit now.”

I nod, but I still don’t love the idea of accepting their help. Once you let the MC into your life, you’re stuck with them. Forever.

I’ve talked to Edge, the new president, several times at the biker bar they run. Although Posey’s Lounge isn’t just a biker bar. It’s the only bar around, and anyone is welcome.

Dad’s right though, Edge isn’t a bad guy. But that doesn’t change how I feel about accepting their help. I might be stubborn and proud, but I’m also not stupid. Our history with the MC isn’t good. It took us years to break away, and the last thing I want to do is let them back into our lives.

* * *

After I put the groceries away, I make sure Dad is good and head to my room. It’s not much, but it’s the only room in this house that’s a reflection of me.

The room is small and barely big enough for my twin-sized bed, nightstand, and dresser. I stuffed my spinning wheel, knitting projects, and art supplies into a corner. The rest of my stock is in bins in the tiny coat closet in the living room. If I had the space, I’d have an entire room dedicated to my crafts.

My bedding is simple—a black comforter and sheet set. I don’t have any pictures on the walls. Instead, I painted them in an abstract mural of the lake we live on. It’s bright and colorful and in complete contrast to my typical gloomy mood.

I toss my purse beside my bed and stare up at the ceiling. It’s painted to look like a stormy sky with a bright sun fighting to break its way through the darkness. The story of my life.

I’m trapped in an endless thunderstorm with no way to escape. I try to find the positive in life, but sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it feels like there isn’t an end in sight to my shitty life.

Needing to drag myself out of my foul mood, I grab my purse and dig out the Snickers Christian gave me.

More like stole from Tanner.

A smile tugs at my lips at the memory. I’ve got a date with Christian Mutter. Who would’ve thought I’d catch his eye? I sure as hell didn’t.

Lord knows I’ve tried over the years, but he’s never seemed to take notice of anyone. He’s a loner, a wounded soul, and someone who knows what it’s like to struggle. He’s someone who will understand and appreciate why I am the way I am.

Something tells me he wouldn’t barge in here and try to fix me and all my problems. Instead, he’d probably encourage me as I work my ass off to fix them myself. I’m sure he’d help if I asked, but he wouldn’t try to take everything over and do it for me like I’m incapable of doing it myself. We’d be equals.

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