Page 94 of Deserter

I ran a hand over my face. “Jesus Christ, do you hear yourself? There’s a difference between wanting what’s best for your daughter and going out of your fuckin’ way to make her feel inadequate.”

“Was this your doing too? She can’t go to school… she can’t use formula… you’re ruining her!”

Celia passed a red-faced Kate up to me before hurriedly buttoning up her dress. A tear ran down her cheek, quickly followed by another and I knew that I was seconds away from a blow up. “Take us home, Jamie.”

Norma placed a hand on Celia’s shoulder and squeezed, trying to stop her. “I’m just trying to help you. I love you and only want what’s best for you.”

People like Comedian used their fists, and with the exception of my wife, they were seen for what they were.

Evil.

It was the ones like Norma that you had to watch out for though. The ones that claimed love before thrusting a knife into the hearts of those closest to them.

Kate continued shrieking in both fright and hunger as I settled her into the car seat, but I wasn’t letting her, or her mama stay in this house a second longer.

I pried Celia from Norma’s grasp and strode toward the car, calling over my shoulder, “You’re so goddamned worried about what people might think that you’ve destroyed any chance at a real relationship with your daughter and granddaughter.”

She fell back against the bricks near the front door with a cry and, like clockwork, Richard suddenly appeared in the doorway. He never seemed to intervene until the damage was done.

Once the girls were safely settled in the Suburban, I turned back to the house. “Stay the fuck away from my family, Norma. I won’t tell you twice.”

Richard closed his eyes and retreated into the house, but she stayed where she was, clutching her chest and sobbing. It was pathetic.

Chapter Twenty

Grey: 1990

We drove home in silence while our daughter bawled in the backseat. When we pulled up, Celia grabbed the baby carrier and moved on autopilot toward the nursery while I stayed behind in the den.

I didn’t know what to say.

The ticking from the mantel clock was ominous, magnified in the silence of the house. I cracked my neck and stepped out onto the front porch, letting the screen door slam shut behind me while lighting up a cigarette. I wanted to jump on my bike and pay another visit to Celia’s parents, but forced myself down onto the swing with a heavy sigh.

My brief interaction with them made managing the club seem like a cake walk.

Maybe it was.

In my world, a threat like Norma would’ve been dealt with by spilling blood. I’d run my club and most of the town through fear for as long as I could remember. I lived by Wolverine’s mantra—put enough people down and the others quickly learn their place.

I was young when I took over and that respect had come at a steep price; one I was willing to pay until the message became clear. The streets could run red and I’d still rule my empire with an iron fist.

Any other way and I’d watch the entire thing slip through my fingers.

Unfortunately, that line of thinking didn’t work in my wife’s world. They saw me, and Celia by association, as trash; something to be ground under the heels of their expensive leather shoes.

I couldn’t demand that they submit to my authority, their respect had to be earned. I just didn’t know how when they were playing by a different set of rules.

I took another long drag and exhaled a stream of smoke up toward a cloudless blue sky. This was supposed to have been a good day for my family, but it had turned into one dick punch after another.

Anxiety from my earlier conversation with Wolverine returned with full force and I let my forearms drop to my thighs as the swing moved forward.

How was I supposed to handle this?

I stubbed my cigarette out against the handle of the swing and retrieved my kutte from the Suburban before hopping on my bike. With one last look back toward the house, I fired it up and took off down the street, ignoring the narrowed eyes of my neighbors.

Fuck sticking around.

That was my problem. I’d been stuck in a goddamn cage when I should’ve been on the back of my bike with the wind in my hair.

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