Page 121 of Dizzy

We both dissolve in sticky laughter, tangled together. He’s still wearing his white socks. He looks ridiculous and hot and all mine.

He tucks me under his chin and kisses my forehead. “Sleep now. I’ll get food when you wake up.”

“Dizzy?” I yawn and scrub my eyes.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He holds me tight and throws a leg over my hip. “You ain’t never gonna have cause to regret it.”

“I ran,” I mumble, drifting off to the buzz of the overhead light.

“I caught you.”

I fall asleep with a smile on my face, in Dizzy’s arms, a whole new world waiting for me when I wake up.

Epilogue

DIZZY, FOUR YEARS LATER

“Those brats?” Charge asks.

“Yup. Brats. Keilbasa.” I adjust the meat with my tongs. You don’t want to overcook sausage. “This here is some Cajun shit. It’s spicy.”

Charge pops a squat on the cooler next to the grill. He has the weary look of a hunted man. Or a dude who’s got some explainin’ to do to a woman.

A few minutes ago, Fay-Lee pecked me on the cheek and went to rescue his new girl Kayla from an onslaught of sweetbutts lookin’ to lay prior claim on their favorite pretty boy. Kayla’s got a six-year-old, but she’s sheltered. Naïve almost. She don’t know what to do when a bitch steps to her. Fay-Lee will fix her up.

When we got together, Fay-Lee had the females in line tout suite. Someone—Danielle, I think it was—sat on my lap one night when Fay-Lee was in the bathroom. Fay-Lee dragged her off me by the hair.

She would’ve lost the ensuing fight, and I’d have had to step in—no matter how much I feed the girl, she still don’t have much weight to her, except that ass—but Story Jenkins leapt in to back her up. Ended up with Bullet takin’ bets. My girl won.

Story and Fay-Lee have been thick as thieves ever since. I bet they’re in the clubhouse now, recruiting Kayla into their shenanigans. Story strips at The White Van, but my woman’s the bad influence. It’s commonly known.

I grin. Can’t help it. She’s somethin’ else. Never a dull moment.

“What you smilin’ about?” Charge grumps, cracking a beer.

“A juicy brat’s a beautiful thing.” It’s the truth. Nothin’ like a spring day, grilling out, kids runnin’ and hollering. Parker and Carson have taken Kayla’s little one under their wings, showin’ him all the trouble he can get into around the clubhouse. Life is good. “What crawled up your ass?”

“Every fuckin’ sweetbutt in this place.”

“Must be hard. You need a stick to beat ‘em off with?” I’m raggin’ on him, but I sympathize. He’s a goner for his woman. She’s gonna tear him up when they get home.

“She’s got to get used to it.” Charge glares at the back door the women disappeared through. “If they see they can rattle her, they’ll keep doin’ it. And if I handle it for her, she’ll lose respect.”

“Ah.” I nod my head. “You’re letting other pussy crawl all over you so your woman can earn her own respect. Solid plan, my man.”

Charge flips me the bird. “You got better advice?”

“Every man must chart his own course in life.” I turn the sausages. Perfect char. I’m the master.

Carson and Kayla’s boy Jimmy comes flying over, careening to a halt a foot from the grill. They make quite a pair.

Jimmy’s got a mean mug, and Carson’s twice his size and all smiles. Since Carson’s growth spurts, he’s almost got a grown man’s size, but he’s still got a little kid’s heart. Steve don’t say shit to Carson about his weight anymore. Not since Carson got big enough to bench press him if he wanted.

“Dad,” Carson pants. “Can we take Jimmy ridin’ out in the woods? He ain’t never been on a dirt bike before.”

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