I’ve tried. Tried to explain it. But nothing I said ever made sense. Of course, I didn’t paint the picture that Mace has, nor had the full attention of my son or not when he could keep a hold on his temper.
And I’ll be darned if Cas doesn’t turn to me and hold out his hand. Dubiously, I put mine into it.
He stares at me, his eyes suddenly looking older than his years. “You never stopped loving him, Mom, did you? That’s why you’ve never found another man.” He shakes his head. “You’re hurting too, aren’t you? He doesn’t know you either.”
Tears prick at my eyes. He doesn’t know the half of it. When Cas squeezes my hand then releases it, my fingers curl into my palms, remembering not only doesn’t he know me, but unlike myself, he’s moved on.
My son’s attention has switched back to Mace. “So, how do we prospect for his attention?”
Mace laughs loudly. “Fuck. Yeah, okay, I’ll put another dollar in. In fact, I’ll put in two. ‘Cause, fuck me, that’s the way of it. Not sure we’ve got much of a plan, but we’ll approach this from two fronts. I want to see my brother right, and if possible, you and your mom back in his life. But I’ll warn you both, Lizard’s brain got scrambled up, that’s obvious. He might want things now he didn’t want before, and those things he used to want, hold no desire any longer. So perhaps all we can hope for is that he’ll do right by you and your mom, even if he can’t be a husband to her.”
“I know that, Mace,” I tell him, remembering what I’d witnessed. “I wish I didn’t, but if he wants a divorce, I’ll give him one, no hassle, no problem. All I want is for him to acknowledge his son and have a relationship of some sort with him.”
Mace nods. “May not know you myself yet, Cas, but what I’ve seen, I like. You’re protective of your mom, sit and listen when you need to. I’d be proud to call you my son. And I think Lizard will, once you’ve ‘prospected’.” He winks. “Now the other front is the medical one. Not sure how far we’ll get, but we’ll make sure Lizard’s getting the right treatment he needs, and the right therapeutic support.”
“If, if his brain’s fucked—verb not swear word,” Cas giggles, then grows serious again, “could it cause him damage if he’s confronted by me and Mom?”
“I’m no doctor, Cas, but yeah. There could be a risk. Might also mean he’ll never accept you or come to terms with it. But I’ll tell you this—club is not going to turn its back on family, and that’s what you and your mom are, however this plays out.” He holds out his fist and Cas bumps it with his. “You’re club.”
We’re club.
Dare I hope we’re not alone any longer? Can I believe this man? Will Cas get the male influences I’ve always wanted for him?
Not sure I want him to hotwire any more cars or to learn more about such things, but hell, it’s better for him to know when and when not to and how not to get caught. I can’t be picky and say a bunch of bikers wouldn’t be good for my son.
Their core values—respect, love, family, and support for each other—well, if Cas learns that much, it can’t do him wrong.
Cas looks at me, then at Mace. Then he stands, his hand resting momentarily on my shoulder. “Well then, I’ve got to go pack. Come on Mother, you’ve got to get your glam on.”
My glam?
Mace winks at me.
“Vanna,” he says, as I start to get to my feet. “It may take a while. I’ve been thinking. I’ll introduce you as a friend of mine. Just a friend,” he adds fast, “no funny business. But I think it’s best for Lizard to be able to get to know you again, no pressure.”
I ask the question I should have voiced way back, saying tightly, “That woman I saw Lizard with. Is it serious? Will I be stepping on anyone’s toes?” Again, my hands clench. “Introducing me as someone to you will sounds right, if,” my voice catches and I try to tamp down the anger I know it’s not right for me to feel, “Lizard is happy with someone else…” My voice trails off as I find it too hard to complete my sentence.
His face tightens and he glances in the direction that my son had gone, making sure he’s out of earshot. “Vanna, I can assure you Lizard hasn’t got a girlfriend, fiancé or wife. But I have got to warn you, the club has girls, they’re there for one thing only. Sex. Sex without strings or emotions.”
I widen my eyes then close them, picturing the girl who’d had her hands on my husband, then I open them again, having prepared myself, and ask for the confirmation I’m certain I’ll hear. “Lizard… Liz goes with them for sex?”
Mace’s eyes meet mine. “Yeah.”
Yeah.
I stand, walk to the counter and lean over it, feeling my body vibrating with rage. Lizard goes with whores. The good news is that he isn’t taken. The bad? Whether or not he knows it, the fact is, he’s fucked around on his wife. For the first time ever, I have to ask myself, If I get a chance to win Lizard back, do I still want him?
“He doesn’t know you exist, Vanna,” Mace reminds me, correctly interpreting my tense stance. “I promise you that he’s never taken to a particular woman. The girls are there, we use them.”
Him as well? I take it if I asked the question, he’d respond, yes.
My husband has lost his memory, he doesn’t know he has a wife. I know the person he left has changed, and I hope for the better. But the man who left me, has he changed for the worst?
Guess I’m going to find out.
I remind myself, I never set out to regain the man who’d been so sincere the day he said his vows. What I need first and foremost is a man who’ll step up and be a dad for my son.
Chapter Eight
Lizard
“Do you have to get them, you know,” Wills bumps my arm with his, “hard?”
“Nah. So,” I try to get back to my story I’m relating to Sparky and Wills.
“How do you do it then?”
Rolling my eyes, I explain, “You stretch it out and wrap it around your fist or over a block.”
“Ew.”
Seems I’ve shut him up for the moment at least having planted that visual in his mind. “So, I asked him if he was a shower or a grower.” I chuckle, thinking back.
“Does that make a difference?” Wills interrupts yet again.
“Yeah,” I explain as patiently as I can. “If he’s a shower then what I draw will stay basically the same erect or not. If he’s a grower, that shits going to stretch. Think of a three-hundred-pound Marilyn Monroe.”
“I’d rather not,” Sparky butts in. “So, what was he?”
“Well he looks down and says he doesn’t know. I glance at his goods myself and can barely see a bulge in his pants. So I surmise and tell him he must be a grower. Then, I have to explain that means it gets bigger when he’s about to fuck.”
“And?” prompts Wills.
I chuckle again. “And he says it stays the same, hard or soft. He wanted me to adorn his three-inch dick.”