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Evan clears his throat while staring suspiciously around the coffee house. “Yeah, he’s told me a lot of stories about Claw. He sounded like a pretty great guy.”
“He was, and so is your dad. He was the very first member of the Savage Legion. Did you know that?”
“Yeah, several brothers have pointed it out. I’m real proud of him for that.” After a slight pause, he asks, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Not at all. If I know the answer, I’ll tell you.”
“What was it like for you as a girl growing up in a man’s world? Your old man wouldn’t let women join the Savage Legion. It seems unfair. How did you feel about that?”
“It didn’t bother me that I couldn’t join. I was allowed to come and go to the clubhouse as I pleased, and all the brothers spoiled me rotten when I was a child. The thing that pissed me off was how overprotective some of them became when I turned into a teenager. They treated me like I was made of glass and might break if they said or did the wrong thing around me.”
“They were just trying to be respectful.”
“I know. And I appreciate that their heart was in the right place.”
“Maybe if you had talked to them about how you felt, things could have been different for you?” he suggests sagely.
I acknowledge sheepishly, “To be honest, I still have a hard time talking about my problems.”
“If you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you,” he offers.
“Well, I’ve been seeing a grief therapist, so that helps.”
“Yeah, but therapists don’t always understand what it’s like when bad things happen. I got abducted, beat up by a crazy person, and was starved for a few months. I know how life can be unfair and how sometimes bad stuff happens to good people. It’s hard to put that shit behind you, you know?”
“That’s a really sweet offer, Evan. I hope you know that works both ways.”
“Here’s the part that no one really gets about trauma,” he states. “It’s really hard to put it behind you and keep it there when you get reminded every single time someone brings it up by asking how you’re doing.”
“That’s really insightful,” Evan.
He grins. “Even bad ass bikers aren’t good at hiding their emotions when it comes to shit that’s important to them. It’s harder on those of us who see ourselves as protectors. We feel guilt when things go sideways, and we couldn’t prevent it.”
Trying to understand, I say sympathetically, “You and the other club members can’t be everywhere all the time. The reality of the world is, we’re all actually responsible for protecting ourselves. You know that, right?”
Evan snorts a laugh. “You wear high heels. You couldn’t even run from danger in those shoes. I’d have to pick you up and carry you out of harm’s way.”
The barista hands me a tray of coffee and I double check, “You’re the caramel frappé, right?”
He nods eagerly, “Yeah, fancy coffee is my new obsession.”
“Does Mattie know about this new obsession of yours?”
“Heck no, and we’re not telling her. If she finds out, the next thing I know there will be some rule about only having one a week because all the sugar is bad for me.”
“That sounds like Mattie. She’s a stickler for the rules.”
“Yeah, but she’s also a great mom. I was lucky to get adopted by her and Rigs. They took me in when no one else wanted me.”
That makes me angry, so I tell him sternly, “You’re a great person, Evan. Any family would be lucky to have a son like you.”
“No, that’s not true,” he responds seriously as we walk back out the door sipping our drinks. “Most adoptive parents only want babies, or young kids. Very few people are looking to adopt a teen. My old foster parents weren’t good at dealing with me. They yelled at me. I yelled back. It was a train wreck, I promise you,”
“Are you sure you’re only fourteen? You seem a lot older.”
Evan practically preens at my compliment. “My dad says I’m smart for my age.”
“I really like you, Evan. You’re like me. We’ve both been through rough times and not only lived to tell the tale, but we grew stronger and more resilient because of it.”
