I roll my eyes. “Zoos are long in his rearview, Lindy, though I wish they weren’t. Stock car racing or motorbikes are now far more his style.”
“Have you thought about that? Getting him into driving lessons or something after school? If the kid’s got an interest in something, it may just focus his mind.”
It’s a good idea and I’ll see what’s available. My husband might not have had a hand in raising my son, but he’s turned out to be a motorhead just the same.
I do feel better for coming here and speaking to my friend who knows my whole story and who offers support without judgement, or, not too much of it anyway. I’d had to cut my own mom out of my life when she couldn’t understand what had happened, and why I was left to raise my child alone. Her outpourings when Cas was around hadn’t helped him adjust, and his repetitions of Gramma said would undo all the progress I thought I’d made. Of course, her absence hadn’t helped either. She was just another person who seemed to have abandoned my son.
Christ, what a mess I’ve made of life for me and Cas.
I hug Lindy and thank her, then drive to the school where I park well in time to collect my boy. As predicted, his face falls, and he grows sullen when he sees me waiting.
“You didn’t have to collect me, Mom. I could have caught the bus. Surely you’re supposed to be at work?”
“I took a personal day. I had to go and see your lawyer,” I explain.
“Well, fuck me. It’s my fault. I never expected that.”
I don’t know what gets to me most, him swearing, or his sarcasm. But it reminds me what a failure as a mother I am. I try to bite my tongue, but I fail. “Yes it is your fault. No one else persuaded you to hotwire a car and steal it.”
“I hate you, Mom.”
Sometimes I fear he really does.
“I need to get some groceries.” I wait for the explosion that’s surely to come.
“And you couldn’t fucking do that before picking me up? Dammit, Mom. Drop me at home first.”
I’m not stupid. If I do that, he’ll be gone by the time I get home.
Pick my battles, I remind myself. What would seem bad for anyone else is par for the course between me and Cas. I have to tread carefully or else I risk him storming off, not returning, and becoming just one more statistic. So I smother my temper. “No, you can come and help choose what we’ll have for dinner. After, we can get ice cream.”
“Ice cream?” He turns to me with a scowl. “I’m fourteen, not four. Anyway, I’ve got plans. There’s a girl I was going to see later.”
Girl? Christ. This day just goes from bad to worse. Of course I’ve had the chat with my son, the one he should have had with his father. But I’m not sure how effective it was. My fourteen-year-old boy is tall, six feet even now, and even though I’m seeing him through biased eyes, know he’s a handsome fella. Apart from the trouble with the law, I’ve visions of him getting an underage girl pregnant.
“You are grounded, Son. Remember?”
I swear I hear him say, we’ll see about that.
It’s at times like these when I really do wish I had the support of a man.
Lindy had reminded me I had one. Would things be different if I stepped up and went to see how the land lay now? Could, as she’d suggested, things have changed? Would he now be prepared to step up and accept his responsibilities?
How much would it hurt to try?
I’d broken once when the only man I’ve ever loved walked out of my life, but managed to pull myself back to some semblance of stability. Seeing him again might send me back into the depths of despair. Could I take that hurt again?
Just one more look at the sullen boy sitting beside me and I know, for his sake, I have to try.
Chapter Four
Mace
“How’s the ass?” I wink as I ask Titsy when I bump into her in the kitchen. Her mock glare makes me grin.
“Hey, Mace. Wanna have some fun later?” Breezy seems up for more.
Well she is until I call out, “Jeannie? You got any ginger root around here?”
“No ginger,” says Breezy firmly. “Unless it’s going up your asshole.”
I nearly spit out my mouthful of coffee at her suggestion. Then I notice the time. “Later, girls. Got places to be.”
That place is Devil’s Ink where I’m going to take a look at the girl who wants her property tat removed. Something has gotten the normally unflappable Lizard spooked about it, which was the reason I’d offered to help check her out.
So far, we knew Cad hadn’t managed to locate a member of an MC that goes by the name of Major. Well, he’d found one, but on checking, that man was as single as me. Of course, motorcycle clubs don’t have the monopoly on property patches, some BDSM folks are into that shit too, but it was a good idea to check. Don’t want to give a rival club the opportunity to come in guns blazing, accusing us of stealing their women away.
It’s a nice spring day as I ride the short distance to the strip mall where the tattoo shop is located. The feeling of warm sun on my face has put me in a good mood, I realise, as I roll the bike into a spot reserved for us to the rear, then walk in the back entrance and make my way to the front.
I greet Vi who’s sitting behind the reception desk. “Hi, Vi. How’s Theo?”
She rolls her eyes. “My little man is fine. In fact, he was right as rain by the time we got in to see the doctor. Still, she checked him out and said he’s all good. Just one of those kid things.”
Nodding sagely as if I know what she’s talking about when I don’t have a clue, I glance around. “The boss here?”
“Lizard!” she calls.
The man appears. “Mace.” He throws me a lift of his chin. “Anything new?”
Cad had told me he’d already given Liz all that he’d found out, so I simply shake my head.
The shop bell dings behind me.
I glance at the woman who’s walked in, then at Liz. Liz raises an eyebrow, and I give a small nod back.
That one glance had shown me three things. One, that the woman had an ethereal beauty, two, she was terrified and I wasn’t sure why, and three, that if Liz had designs on her, he was going to have to take a step back. I want her. Well, not for good. But for one night and I won’t want to share. My cock is definitely interested.
She’s got a property patch on her back, I remind myself. That’s why she’s here. She belongs to another. Or, at least will, until that shit is covered up. Any ideas I have will just have to wait.
Vi seems bemused that neither Liz nor I have said anything. She stands and smiles warmly. “It’s Shayla, isn’t it? I’m Violet. You’ve got an appointment with me so we can see about covering your tattoo. Do you want to come this way?”
She nods shyly at Violet, then her eyes come briefly to mine before looking down. As Vi walks off, she makes no move to follow. It takes me a second, then I realise the way Liz and I are standing, she’d have to brush past us to follow the prez’s old lady, so I take a step back. Shayla takes advantage and making herself as small as possible, almost runs off in the direction Vi had taken.
I tilt my head questioningly to the side.