Page 18 of My Three S**y Bikers

As soon as I got outside the back door, I saw Drake having a smoke.

“Where you going?” Drake snarled as he grabbed my arm. He startled me as he threw down his cigarette. “Do you want to go dance with Wheels? I saw him flirting with you. Shit, Mel, you’ve really changed.”

I wrestled my arm from him. How dare he judge me! He had no right to speak to me like that.

“Fuck you! We nearly fucked, and once again, you ran off like a little boy!”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t run. I left to find my dad. I told you.”

I chuckled, thinking that was his excuse back then. But the other night? What the fuck was that?

“Only fourteen months and you couldn’t tell me. Did I disgust you so much you left…”

“You haven’t even asked how I got this scar or why I’m called Scar. My fucking stepdad cut me down the face then killed my mother, before blowing out his brains.”

What?

Did he say what I thought he had just said?

I was blinking and trying to process it all, but before I could do that, as usual Drake had gone.

I didn’t remember hearing about his mom’s passing. Nor any funeral, but then again, between finding out my dad had a new family, him moving out, then my pregnancy and being kicked out by my mom, who turned to alcohol, there wasn’t much time to find out about anyone. Even the few friends I had were spending their summer traveling or working. I couldn’t even turn to them. I’d been alone.

All alone.

I couldn’t pay my phone bill, so I left to get work and then try and figure out things, which was fine at first when my uncle and aunt were helping me.

I wasn’t going to apologize for being caught up in my own shit, but I did feel bad about his mom dying and not knowing about it.

I stood frozen, unsure what to do with myself. I’d felt all of Drake’s anger and pain pour through him as he spoke. It had been so bad in his house, and I had been his girlfriend at the time. How did I never know all this?

“Scar shouldn’t have spoken to you that way,” said Lucky quietly. He had appeared from nowhere. “You get some air, and then you can go back in again. I’ll get him to talk to you.”

Once again, I found myself crying uncontrollably in the presence of Lucky. He had a way of taking away all my pain as he held me tight.

I didn’t want to just cry in his arms. I wanted him to kiss me. I needed him to make me feel whole again.

He hesitated as he opened his mouth slightly as if he was debating whether to take it further. He cupped my face and pulled me closer, not like how Drake had the other night, but gentler as if he wanted permission for this to take place. I felt protected, and I naturally moved closer toward him. His hands weren’t cupping my face any longer, shifting toward my waist.

All I knew was this was where I wanted to be right now. In his arms and feeling like the woman I deserved to be.

9

LUCKY

Everyone was walking on eggshells, and after the live band left, it was clear we were counting days until we were shut down. I needed a good action plan.

I came up with some cock-and-bull story that we were shutting the club for a week in honor of the old man. We didn’t need a week to mourn him, but I had to think of something to deal with all the crap of that night.

I was in the kitchen, still sitting in the same spot after breakfast. I should have headed to the garage, but the reality of our fate had taken away all my motivation.

“Scar’s gone again. How long do you think he’s gone for?” Erin asked, narrowing her eyes and looking suspiciously at me.

“I dunno, Erin. When you find out you have a son, one you never knew you had, and you tell him the same bull story you told everyone else… How do you reveal the truth to him? When’s a good moment? When he’s already been through so much…”

She shook her head, and I knew only words of wisdom were going to leave it.

“Nothing good ever come out of a lie. You know that, Matteo Rodriguez III. You should have sat everyone down and told them from the start. Not the bullshit you told everyone.”

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