Page 16 of Jacob

Sliding his ass on the barstool, he brought the lowball glass to his lips and took another long pull of the whiskey. His gaze drifted to the back of the bar. He took in the bottles of rum, vodka, a fancy bottle of cognac, and then a red plastic cup caught his attention.

Scrawled in black marker was her name: Sparrow. Under it, it read “Do not touch.” Inside the cup were various shapes and flavors of lollipops. He grinned as the idea came to him. He knew exactly what to do.

Chapter 10

Sparrow

Sitting at the kitchen table, Sparrow scribbled definitions on the backs of notecards. English was her worst subject. It always had been, and she really didn’t want to get stuck in some remedial classes wasting time. With all the books spread out on the kitchen table, it reminded her of when her dad had all the ledgers for the club businesses on their kitchen table.

The thought that she’d finally take a step in the direction of achieving what her father had wanted for her made her smile. He’d wanted her to be the club accountant. He’d wanted her to be their business manager. He wanted her to be more than just club ass. It’d taken her awhile, but she’d finally gotten herself in a position where she could pay for classes.

Glancing at the clock, she hummed. There’d been a time when she would’ve been disappointed that Pipes hadn’t come home the night before a run. After the third time he’d laid down his bike in the middle of the night, she’d insisted he stay at the club after a night of partying. She just didn’t need that drama this close to the entrance exams.

“Spa-rrow,” sang her mother as she opened the front door of the apartment. “Are you awake?”

“It’s three o’clock in the afternoon,” she called back as she got up from the table.

Wearing torn fishnets, black suede boots, a black skirt, and a Roughneck Riders support tank top, her mother, Dixie, sauntered into the apartment with her purse slung over her shoulder. Her bleached hair had the freshly fucked look, and her smeared makeup were all telltale signs of a good night for her mother.

“Do you have any coffee?” The older woman tapped her fingers along the counter until she stopped at the coffeemaker. Bending, she pulled the empty carafe and turned, offering her daughter an exaggerated pout.

“It’s three o’clock,” Sparrow repeated before shaking her head and reaching into the cabinet for the instant coffee. “Did you just wake up?”

Moving over to the sink, filling the pot with water, her mother hummed as she shook her hips. “I was never a morning person.” She grinned, reaching for the container from her daughter.

Dancing to a beat in her head, her mother scooped coffee grounds before she poured water into the reservoir. Once she pushed the button to start the brew, she turned, resting her hands on the edge of the counter, and eyed her daughter. Canting her head, her gaze drifted to the books and the notecards on the table.

“What’s all that?”

Wrapping her arms around herself, Sparrow looked over her shoulder at the table as though seeing it for the first time. “Just studying,” she sighed before bringing her focus back to her mom. “Eastern Gateway has its entrance exams coming up.”

“Ugh,” Dixie groaned, pushing off the counter. “Baby bird,” she sighed, coming toward her daughter. “When are you going to get that foolishness out of your head?”

It wasn’t that she’d expected support from her mother, education had never been something she’d supported. Hell, in high school, she’d offered to sign her drop out slip every day.

Cupping her cheeks, her mother gazed upon her with concern in her eyes. “Sweetie, guys in the MC, they don’t want smart girls. You can’t show them how smart you are ’cause you’re smarter than them. They can’t handle that. I know your dad had these wild ideas about how you could work for the club, but they were just wild ideas. Things have changed—a lot.” She kissed her daughter’s head. “He ain’t here to give you the in. I’m no one’s Ol’ Lady no more. So you gotta get on the back of a patch’s bike. It’s the only way to be anything, baby.” She stroked her daughter’s hair as she somehow both frowned and smiled simultaneously.

This wasn’t the first time she’d heard the speech. Her mother preached it every time Sparrow told her what she’d wanted to do, what her father had wanted for her. It wasn’t that her mother wanted to puncture her dreams or hold her back. She just didn’t see life outside the club.

It didn’t make it hurt any less.

Knowing Dixie’s short-sightedness, her flaws didn’t dull her words. They pierced Sparrow’s heart like red-hot pokers each time she used them. Swallowing hard, she felt some of her resolve, her confidence, chipping away as her mother held her gaze.

Dixie believed her words. For her, there wasn’t a life outside of the club for herself or her daughter. They were the property of the Roughneck Riders because of Ducky, despite the fact they’d never married and she’d never given Sparrow his name. Apparently, giving Sparrow Ducky’s last name had been a bargaining chip. Dixie would only do it if he’d marry her. He never got around to doing it.

In the end, it meant that Dixie and Sparrow were denied his life insurance. All his assets went to his mother, who hated Dixie and resented Sparrow. Her power play cost them everything.

When the coffee maker chimed, her mother pulled away. “Where’s Pipes?” she asked as though she hadn’t just tried to crush her daughter’s dreams. She pulled two mugs from a cabinet before pouring the coffee.

Sparrow closed the books, organized the notecards, and otherwise cleared off the table. “He’s on a run.”

“Ahh. For how long?”

“A couple of days.” She stacked the books in her arms and moved them to the living room while her mother put the mugs on the table.

Her mother settled into a chair, resting her hands on either side of the mug. “Ohhh.” Her eyes sparkled following Sparrow as she joined her at the table. The excitement was hard to miss.

She should have been energized by her mother’s expression of glee. Who dreaded when their mother expressed happiness?

---