Page 131 of Redemption (Brazen Bulls Birthright 1)

“Succeeding. We’re lucky, and I love you.” She pursed her lips and sent him a long-distance kiss before she went out and closed the door.

“I love you back!” he called. They never left one of those hanging.

~oOo~

As Eight pulled up to the Middle School entrance, he goosed the throttle a few times, making the Fat Boy roar. The students, parents, and teachers milling about stopped and stared.

Behind him, his arms still clamped around Eight’s waist, Ajax laughed with full-bodied glee. He swung off the back of the saddle and took off his helmet. Eight only wore one when he was traveling through a state with a helmet law, but in Oklahoma, kids had to wear one. In the Lewis-Johnston house, kids had to wear one, regardless of the law.

It had taken Ajax and Eight about three months of concerted effort to convince Marcella Ajax would be safe in Eight’s saddle. Ajax had finally won with an elaborately logical argument detailing his mother’s hypocrisy. Marcella loved riding bitch. So they’d bought Ajax a helmet of his own, and an armored jacket, and the two of them had put a couple thousand miles on the bike while Mom was cruising the country belting out the blues.

But today was the first time he’d taken the bike to Ajax’s school.

Ajax handed Eight his helmet, shrugged out of his brand-new backpack full of brand-new school supplies, and then took off the armored jacket and handed that over as well. By the time he was situated, his band of buddies had made their way over.

“Hi, Mr. Johnston.” Bennett held his fist out.

“Hey, Ben.” Eight bumped with him, then repeated the greeting and the gesture with Rick, and Damon, and finally Emma. “You guys excited for school?”

A bevy of freshly minted middle-schoolers rolled their eyes. Even Ajax, who, Eight knew,lovedschool. But adolescent attitude was apparently contagious.

Eight laughed. “Yeah, I didn’t like it, either. But don’t mess around too much or you’ll end up like me.”

“That’d be okay by me,” Damon said, eyeing the bike and the kutte. Ajax grinned proudly.

Eight felt a little proud, too. If somebody had told him that being a dad came with a dollop of hero worship, he might have been in on the parenthood thing a lot earlier.

A bell rang, and kids began filing toward the doors while their parents called reminders at them.

“Best get in there. Don’t want to be late on the first day.” Ajax’s friends called “Bye” and headed into the salmon-like stream. Ajax lingered by the bike, and Eight held up his fist for a bump. “Have a day, bud. Make it count.”

Ajax bypassed Eight’s fist and hugged him instead.

It was hardly the first time his kid had hugged him. Ajax was an affectionate and demonstrative kid. But he’d never done it at school before, in front of all these people, all these rich parents who no doubt were appalled that a scholarship kid had such inappropriate parents.

In fact, he knew that was true: Damon wasn’t allowed to come to their house. His mother was afraid Ajax lived in an orgy of bikers and blood, or some other horror show.

But Ajax didn’t care. He loved his father and didn’t care who knew it.

Eight hugged his son back and wondered if he’d ever get used to that feeling, if a day would come when it didn’t register as the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He kissed his son’s long golden locs. “Better get inside, bud.”

Ajax stood back. “Okay. Will you pick me up on the bike, too?”

“You know it.”

With a bright, happy grin, Ajax turned and trotted to the school doors. Halfway there, he spun around and trotted backward a few paces, calling out, “I love you, Dad!”

“Love you back!” Eight yelled. They never left one of those hanging.

Then he sat there, at the curb, while the school settled down. All the kids inside, the parents in their luxury sedans, lined up at the campus exit. Eight had a full day of work—paperwork to clear off his desk, another gun run to plan, inventory at the station to finish—and he had to get it all done by three so he could pick up his kid and focus on him the rest of the day. But he wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He wanted to bask in this feeling, figure it out.

Completeness. That was it.

He’d changed over the years, sure. Probably everybody did. But at his core, in his heart, he was still the same guy. The life he’d lived had made him, and there was no changing that.

Only one thing in him really had changed: he’d realized he hated being alone. That was it. Once he’d started feeling lonely, he knew something had to give. The past was written in stone, but the future wasn’t written at all. That, he could do something about.

Instead of cultivating aloneness the way he had all his life, trusting almost no one not to hurt him if they got close, he’d tried to open up a little. Once he’d started acknowledging his feelings, he’d had to face some regrets. A few of those had been ripe for atonement. One in particular.

The only real change in Eight: he’d recognized the need for redemption.

Now he had a woman and a child who knew him for who he was and loved him just as he was. He even had better friendships with men he’d called brother for decades, and their women and children, too.

Loss had made him see how little he’d allowed himself to have.

Love had given him everything he could ever want.

THE END

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