Page 4 of His Old Lady

Chapter 1

Curley

1991

The waitress at RiversideBar removed the two empty beer bottles from in front of Curley. He continued drinking from the mug in his hand, no calmer than when he'd walked into the place.

"Come on, Curley." Roddy tossed cash down on the counter. "You can stay at my place."

He stalled leaving the bar because Faye showed up at his house. His old lady—what a joke. Faye was no more his woman than he was her man.

Just because she wanted to make his life hell whenever she showed up at the clubhouse, the other Tarkio Member indulged her. It wouldn't surprise him to find out one of them told her to stay at his house.

Faye needed to go back to her house in Superior. Back to her job at Hot Springs Lounge and spend time growing those flowers, she was so fond of growing.

He ran his forearm over his mouth. "I'm going home."

"Sure?"

Curley grunted. He was never sure of anything when it came to Faye

Roddy slapped his shoulder. "If you plan on riding home, you better finish your beer and get out of here, or I'll be tying you to the back of my Harley and hauling you home myself."

"I'm not leaving my Harley," he muttered. "I'm damn sure not going to let Faye wiggle her way into my life because she's got an itch to visit."

"Have you told her that?"

"I don't tell her shit." He slammed the mug down on the counter and turned on the barstool. "I'm going home."

"Are you okay to ride?"

The last time three beers knocked him upside the head, he'd taken a six-pack from his dad's stash in the garage when he was thirteen years old. Back then, it wasn't the alcohol that scrambled his brains. It was his dad's fists, taking their pound of flesh from his body, for stealing his beer.

He lifted his hand in farewell. "Catch you later, Roddy."

Weaving through the crowd, he pushed outside and walked to his motorcycle. He wasn't in the mood to hang with the other Tarkio Motorcycle Club members that came over to drink the night away.

Everyone had something good about their life. Not him. He had to deal with his past.

Hell, he wouldn't be against helping Faye out or whatever she wanted, but the past needed to stay in the past. Faye was old enough now to understand it wasn't good for him to be around her.

He'd thought she'd learned her lesson when she climbed into his bed when she was seventeen years old. Half-looped after a night of partying, he'd slipped his cock between her legs before knowing it was Faye in his bed.

He'd promptly taken her back to Grandma June's house, knowing he'd fucked over her life again.

He exhaled harshly, looking up at the dark sky. His life with Tarkio warred with his feelings toward Faye.

He deserved every bit of turmoil she'd put him through. After what happened with her Uncle Walker, he deserved to suffer every minute of his life.

But, Faye. She hadn't deserved what he'd done to her.

He'd tried to keep taking care of her like he'd promised Walker after he'd slept with her. Twice a month, he'd pick Faye up at her great-grandma's house and take her to see Walker in prison. The long trip was made in silence. She walked around hurt, angry, and rejected.

What the fuck else was he supposed to do with her? He'd had sex with a minor. A minor he was responsible for.

He started the Harley and rode out of the parking lot, heading home. The fresh air eliminated any of the benefits of the beer he'd drunk. Knowing Faye was at his house kept him wide awake.

Over the years, his guilt only multiplied. He was sick about what he'd done. His responsibilities toward Faye and Walker's fate kept him from getting close to anyone else.

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