Page 19 of Jacob

“Yeah,” he shouted back on his way down the small hallway. “Just gonna shower before I head to the clubhouse.” Yeah, that’s right. He was going to the clubhouse. Without his father. Because he could now.

He wanted to remove the smell of motor oil and sweat off him before he partied for the night. This was his first official night as Odin’s Fury. Granted, he wasn’t a patch, but he was that much closer. He wasn’t just Tex’s son anymore. He was a prospect. He was almost a member. He just had to be their bitch for a little while and he was in.

It was everything he could do not to squeal like a little girl. Staring in the full-length mirror, he admired the way the brand new, very stiff, black leather vest looked on him. The blindingly white patch on his shoulder beamed at him. “PROSPECT.” That’d be his name for a while. That’s fine. Everyone started that way. He didn’t want special treatment.

He ran his fingers over it and the smile on his face grew wider. Finally.

“What the hell is this?” his mother’s voice boomed behind him.

Dropping his hand, Jacob turned as though he’d just been caught jerking it into a tube sock, watching the scrambled Playboy channel. “What?”

“Who gave you that?” she asked, stomping into his room, reaching for his brand new cut.

“Dash—what are you—let go!” He scrambled away from his mother’s grip.

The smell of cheap liquor wafted off her. “That worthless little maggot son of a bitch,” his mother muttered as she narrowed her eyes on her son. Her face turned a deep shade of crimson while her lips paled as she tightened them. Her knuckles turned white as she curled her fingers into tight balled fists. “I told your father…” She turned and stormed out of the room, continuing to mutter incoherently.

“Mom.” He chased after her.

She whirled on him, mid-hallway, and fell against the wall, using it to hold her up. “I told him you are supposed to join the army. The recruiter is coming to dinner on Saturday.”

The wind left his metaphorical sails, and Jacob stared at his mother with a slacked jaw. Wide-eyed, he peered at her, unsure whether he should be disappointed or pissed at her. “I don’t want to join the army.”

“It’s good enough for your father, but not for you?”

“I just don’t want to do that with my life.”

She pushed off the wall and stepped up to him. Standing a good four inches shorter than him didn’t make her any less intimidating. She was still his mother. “You’re nineteen. You don’t know what you want to do with your life.”

He shook his head. “I know I don’t want that.”

“You’re better than this.” All the anger, all the rage left her eyes. “Jacob, baby. This life isn’t a good one.”

He drew his brows together. “It’s good enough for you and Dad. You two seem to be just fine. Why isn’t it good enough for me?”

Her eyes filled with tears as she reached for his face, cupping his cheek. She tilted her head as her eyes scanned him. Once the tears started falling, his own anger dissipated. He couldn’t stay mad when she cried. Not that she did it often. “Honey, this life is too dangerous. Please, don’t do this.” Her hand dropped, and she covered the prospect bar with her palm.

He couldn’t help it. “Yeah, and the military is so safe.” He placed his hand over hers. “Mom, I want to be Fury. It’s in my blood. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. I’m not going to sign up for the military, any branch.” He squeezed her hand, kissed her forehead, and turned to go take a shower.

“Just think about it, hon,” she pressed. “Here’s your father back.”

He had to hand it to her. His mother was nothing if not persistent.

“Ow! Don’t pinch me!”

“Don’t kick me in the nuts!” His father shot back and he couldn’t help but laugh.

Shaking his head as he finished his cigarette, he couldn’t help but be amused by his parents. “I gotta get in and check on this storage place.”

“Keep your head down. And start using it,” his father urged. “The big one.”

Jacob closed the phone and stuffed it in his pocket. Turning, he took in the expansive lot and the rows of buildings. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to check each one. He’d just be looking over the books, talking to the desk clerk, investigating their security, and getting a feel for how the business ran. Boring shit.

Licking his bottom lip, he flicked his cigarette butt to the ground. He pressed it into the pavement with his boot before proceeding to the front desk. The door chimed as he opened it. Behind the desk he found a middle-aged blonde wearing a name-tag proclaiming her to be “Jan.”

Her head snapped up and her gaze swept over him. A delayed, almost forced smile spread on her face. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Hi, how can I help you?”

He stuffed his hands in his front pockets as he thought about the question. This wouldn’t be the first time his club had shown up, so she knew what he’d want. “Yeah, is there a candy store around here?”

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