Page 40 of My Three S**y Bikers

“You two are idiots. I can’t believe I married one of you or that I’m here talking to the other. You need to show them what brotherhoods are about. And that lie you orchestrated? You need to come clean. How can there be a brotherhood if the one person they trusted is a blatant liar?”

I felt my face grow red and didn’t want to disagree with her. I grabbed a couple of pancakes and did the same thing as Greyson as I thought about our mom. God rest her soul.

“So, when you finished with your smiley pancakes are you going to start acting like a man?” asked Erin.

I smiled at her and met her green eyes. “I am a grandfather.”

She choked on her pancake and took a sip of juice. “Start acting like one. Grandpas are old and wise. Right now, you’re acting like a guy down on his luck and not someone who’s is going to do the right thing. This is what you need to do. It’s not hard!”

I knew what Greyson saw in his wife, Erin. She was the type to make everything so clear as day and not mess around. I knew she was right, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

“She’s got you there!” Greyson chuckled as he waved his knife at me.

“Greyson, we may be married, and he’s a couple of years older than you. But you ain’t much better. So, you fucked up while trying to be Rambo? Darling, you ain’t no Rambo, but I love ya!” She kissed him on the cheek and he blushed.

Yeah, we were trying to be something that we weren’t, because I’d been playing so many fucking games.

Erin was right. We needed to grow up, and it had to start now. Or rather, as soon as I finished my smiley pancakes, as she so eloquently put it.

21

SCAR

Another night had passed in the motel, and Melinda had been staying in her room. Playboy said it was best for us to talk. He would look after Dwayne whiel Mel waited in her room, but I was as nervous as hell.

There was something about this new Melinda that put me on edge. I knocked on her door after leaving Dwayne with Playboy. My heart was beating out of control, and I started to sweat. Part of me wanted to do the thing I seemed to do all the time lately.

Run!

I wanted to until the door swung open.

“Drake? I thought maybe you weren’t coming.”

Her hair was up in a ponytail, something she often did at high school, and I loved admiring her neckline. Mel put her hand on her hips, and her eyes scanned me, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking about running.

“Do you want to go out and get something to eat? I just want to go for a walk and get out of here for a bit.” Mel didn’t wait for a reply, she grabbed her jacket then slammed the door shut.

I walked behind her, not because I was worried someone would attack her or from loving the view of her ass. I didn’t want her to see how I was walking—like a man who was on his way to the plank—and how scared I was about us doing something as easy as talking.

What if she didn’t want me to be Dwayne’s dad?

What if she had asked Playboy for us to be alone, so she could tell me the bad news?

“Drake?”

I didn’t realize I’d stopped moving by the time we got the end of the hall, and it was time for us to leave.

“You don’t want to head out?” Mel asked as she came close to me.

I took her hand and led her outside. I didn’t say a word. None could leave my mouth. My palm was sweaty. I’d been through so many fucked up situations, yet this one seemed to scare me the most.

As we walked hand-in-hand, it was as if memories of our past flashed in my mind.

“Remember when we used to go out on Friday night to Steve’s basement with his friends?”

I nodded, thinking about back in the day

“The good old days, when all I used to think about was getting drunk, so it would take the pain away,” I sighed.

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