Page 14 of Bound By Consequences
Her head lifted like a lightbulb had just gone off in her brain. Like the pieces of my puzzle were finally coming together for her. “And that’s why you have such an issue with the club.”
I nodded.
Her soft hands came to my face and cupped my cheeks. “Life is hard. There are no roadmaps that tell you what path to go down. It’s all trial and error. Sometimes you win a path, and sometimes it turns in to a mistake you can’t fix. I knew what I was getting into with your father. I knew he’d be gone because that’s part of his job. Yes, some times were hard because it’s overwhelming being alone with a small kid running under your feet all the time, but I’ve never once thought badly of your father or the club because of it. Those were my feelings, and I didn’t project them on anyone else. Not even you. I’m sorry that you heard, but I wish you would’ve talked to me then, not bottled it all up for so long.”
My chest hurt. She was right. I should’ve talked to her. But once again I was young and didn’t want anyone to see her differently. I thought I was protecting her, but instead, I turned my mind into knots.
Club life had these men on such pedestals. You didn’t ask questions, and you didn’t ever do anything to make you look weak. That’s how it seemed when I was a boy. Like what kind of family doesn’t allow someone to have a bad day. Now, as a man, I could see it was not that way. The vision was skewed. They had each other’s backs so no one was ever alone, and there was always strengths in numbers. I just couldn’t see it back then.
“Sorry,” I whispered, feeling tears well in my eyes; not that I’d let a single one fall.
“No, I’m sorry because my actions caused you to have a skewed outlook on the club, your father, and me. That’s not something you need to carry around with you, and it pains me that it has.”
“I didn’t tell you this to make you sad. I just…”
She reached out and cupped my face. “No. I’m not sad or disappointed with you at all.”
“But…”
“At myself, yes. Because I didn’t see it.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I talked to your father about those times. I told him about you hearing me cry when he left and how you felt about it. I also told him how I felt about it.”
“That’s good. You needed to.”
Her hand comes to my knee and squeezes. “You sure are hard with muscles.” She chuckled, then continued. “Your perception of that time shaped the way you looked at the club, your father, and me.”
I started to say something, but she squeezed my legs to halt me.
“They were preconceived notions and not an actual depiction of our lives. I know you said you saw it back then, but if you truly did, why did you start looking into the Ravage MC? Why dig into our family if you knew you hadn’t seen things quite right. They’re going to ask you that.”
This was heavy. “There are a lot of ways I can answer this, Mom, but just know that I will answer anything they ask me truthfully. It’s club business, and I get that now; therefore, I’ll talk to them. Know that I’m okay. I’m not the same scared boy who got his heart broken. Not even close.”
“I respect that. Know that I love you no matter what.” She leaned over and wrapped her arms around me once again. “You need to make sure that you’re ready for whatever they throw at you. Bein’ your momma, I want to let my inner lion out and protect you, but I can’t. There isn’t a damn thing I can do in this situation, Micah, and that kills me.”
“I’ll be fine, Ma. I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Her hand squeezed. “I’ll worry about you until I take my last breath on this earth. That’s what being a parent is. You feel for your child and would bleed for them to take all of their pain away. One day you’ll understand it when you have your own kids.”
“That won’t be any time soon, Mom.” I gave a slight shoulder shrug because I honestly wasn’t sure kids were in my future, but that was a conversation for a different time.
Her smile lit up the room, making the heavy of the conversation evaporate. “You never know what life’ll throw at ya. Come get some breakfast.”
Life wouldn’t be throwing me that particular thing for a long damn time.
My father was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hand and the remote in the other. He turned down the television, his attention coming to us. “Sleep good?”
“I can sleep anywhere,” I answered, moving to the table. Another gift from Uncle Sam and military training. Hot, cold, dirty, clean, gunfire … all of it prepared me to sleep light and wherever the location took me. My mom went to the countertop and grabbed a huge platter. Instantly, I darted over and grabbed the platter, taking it to the table.
“Thank you.” She kissed my cheek as we took our seats.
“That’s not what I asked you, Micah,” my dad interjected as I scooted my chair up to the table.
Mom stilled, sucking in a breath. She was so on edge about me being here and what would happen. Hell, it seemed she was even freaked about how my dad and I would get along. Sure, there were lots of bridges that needed to be rebuilt, but that didn’t mean I’d back down from any of them.
My father and I had our issues, but the biggest one was the respect I had for him and he had for me. That I knew had to be mended to the point it was sealed tight. We were making strides but things weren’t simple between us for sure.
