Page 105 of Dizzy

I don’t understand this thing we got. It’s nothin’ like anything I’ve had with any other woman. She lets me do things—shewantsme to do things that ain’t right. But when it’s her and me—it ain’t wrong, either.

It’s like I shed loose the part of my brain that’s always workin’ through shit. How do I set the suspension up on the new mod the way the client wants and still work within the laws of physics? What shit is Sharon gonna pull next? Do I need to set Carson up with an exercise plan, or is he gonna grow into his weight like I did mine?

With Fay-Lee, all the background noise is gone.

All the shit I gotta negotiate is gone.

I can do what I want, and Fay-Leelovesit. She gives me everything, takes whatever I dish out, and then she yawns like a kitten, and curls into my side. A hundred percent trust.

Like she’s got no doubt I’m gonna give her what she needs.

I’m a big man, but her trust makes me feel twenty feet tall. But that trust only goes so far, don’t it?

And my brothers gotta roll up like the police. Test this thing we’ve got that’s too new to hold under strain.

Rage seethes in my veins. I love my club. Heavy is my president. Even though he’s younger, I’ve backed him since jump street. But he’s gotta fuckin’ learn. Expanding the garage, Steel Bones Construction, renovating the clubhouse. Business, money, power.None of itis worth a dime without the reason we do it.

When my dad was bustin’ kneecaps for the Renellis with Heavy’s dad, they weren’t doin’ it for the future glory of the SBMC. They were doin’ it for us. So we wouldn’t have to struggle for scraps.

We do it for family. For the women and the kids. He’s gotta figure it out one day and soon. Or he’s gonna die old and bitter, the king of an empire, alone in a cold bed.

I ain’t goin’ down like that. I go grab my keys. She ain’t callin’ back. And I can’t stand here and wait another second.

I bound down the stairs, and as I open the front door, Sharon pulls into the drive, her high beams on, blinding me until I screen my eyes. She slams on the breaks, skittering gravel, and yanks up the emergency brake. The boys spill from the car, faces crestfallen.

Parker’s been cryin’. Parker don’t cry.

I hook him around the neck and tug him into my side.

“What’s goin’ on Sharon? It’s ten at night.”

Carson goes to walk in the house, but Sharon grabs him by the back of his shirt. “You don’t move. We’re not staying. We’re gonna clear this up right now.”

Sharon’s cheeks are flushed like when she’s had a few glasses of wine. Is she drunk? Is she drivin’ my kids around drunk?

“What is this?” I pat Parker’s back and let him go to step closer, try to catch a whiff. All I smell is coffee and perfume.

Parker’s staring at the ground. Carson’s bottom lip is quivering. He’s gonna start wailing any minute. What the hell is goin’ on?

“I got a call from Jess Baker,” she starts.

Who the fuck is that? The kids ain’t hurt.

I do not have time for this drama. That’s why she didn’t call. She tries this shit occasionally, and if it’s by phone, I shut it down after I know the boys are okay. Click. Done.

I understand we got business together ‘cause of the boys, but this here ain’t business. Not past bedtime on a school night.

Sharon huffs. “Carl Baker’s mother?”

“The kid who had the party?”

“The party Parkerknewhe wasn’t allowed to go to. Thatyoushould have asked me about before making a unilateral decision. I knew something like this would happen.”

“Something like what?”

Kids gettin’ into it? That’s normal. I knocked out one of Bullet Nowicki’s teeth over a game of horse. Tooth’s still gone, but we’re cool.

“Jess Baker says he’s not welcome over there anymore.” She glares at Parker with a look of pure hate. “And a dozen people—some of themclients—have already sent me screenshots of the post she put on social media about the whole debacle. You don’t come out looking too good, Dwayne, I’ll tell you that. You should see it. A hundred reactions. Eight shares.”

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