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I was just on time finishing up the hedge to get corralled by Seer, who ordered everyone into planting teams and even laid out a few rough sketches she’d done when we arrived and got Raiden to approve. She’d meticulously checked flower tags and planting instructions all morning, seeing which ones liked shade and which liked sun, and mapping out the beds accordingly.
Seer is a great woman. As the official head of the old ladies and legit married to Reckless, she’s used to organizing most of our club gatherings, cookouts, and a lot of the charity stuff. She might be deep into stuff I consider kind of strange, the mildest of it being tarot cards, but she commands the club officers with ease. She’s in her mid-forties and often bitches about getting older, but she still looks damn fine. Not that I’d say that to her old man. All in all, she’s good shit.
Everyone is thankful to break for lunch. I stand back, brush the dirt off my hands onto my jeans, and survey our work. The backyard has been completely transformed. The grass is neatly cut, the edges of the lawn trimmed out, and every last weed removed. A sea of flowers dominates the entire space around the fence. On three sides, it’s a riot of color. I’ve become nose blind to it over the past few hours, but I bet that it smells good. There’s one large tree in the corner that gives good shade. Lark used to have a tire swing hanging from its branches, but that’s long gone. The front yard is coming together. The flowerbeds have to be finished, but the hedge looks like a hedge again.
All around the front yard and near the porch, people gather, brothers clapping each other on the shoulders and backs, the women pointing out the work to each other, laughing and hugging. The sun might be punishing, and we might all be sweaty and dirtier than I’ve ever seen most of us— and that’s saying something—but the happiness is infectious. I thought we might have gotten some pushback from the neighbors, but they’d seen what we were doing, so instead of angry glares, it was more friendly smiles and waves. A few even joined in and helped.
Lark is up on the porch with some of the other women, setting up a long folding table that’s been dragged out of the garage. It’s the old kind, with faux wood, dark paint, and chipped legs. They’ve got stacks of paper plates going, a few big roasters and pots for the cooked burgers and hot dogs to keep warm, bags and bags of buns, and a ton of condiments.
“Okay,” she says proudly, beaming like the huge weight of the world that’s been pressing her down for years is gone. “Thank you all so much for the magic you’ve worked on this yard.” The guys pause at the grill and no one else makes a sound in the yard. “I’ve never been part of the club even though my brother- well… darn it.” She swipes her eyes again. “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry.” She laughs softly. I’m transfixed watching her.
Watchingmywoman give her utmost gratitude to my brothers and our women hits straight to the heart of me. Again. She might not be my woman yet, might be one day at a time, but it’ll be one day soon. She’s brave and strong and sure, she’s made some mistakes, but who hasn’t? I’m not over the fact that I didn’t get to watch my daughter be born or grow, but sulking about it like a little bitch isn’t going to help anyone. I have right now, and I’m not wasting another minute of it.
Lark claps her hands and brushes at her eyes one more time. “You don’t need a big speech because everyone’s hungry, but just... thank you. I’ll never be able to say it enough or properly because there aren’t many words that can do what you’ve done today any sort of justice. I get why Raiden loves you all.”
She starts the applause, enthusiastically beating her hands together, and it’s followed up in a somewhat shy round by the rest of us on the lawn. We’re embarrassed doing it, we don’tfucking clap for each other like a bunch of upper-class snobs, but you know what? Fuck it.
“I bet the kids are the hungriest. We can get them taken care of and then we’ll help the rest of you dish up. We’ve got ice cream after too! I just have to make enough time to haul it all out.”
I catch one of our newest prospects, Jonathan, a seventeen-year-old kid from the not so nice part of Hart, clapping a little too enthusiastically. He hung around our auto repair shop for years, begging anyone who would listen to show him the ins and outs of mechanics. He barely went to school, that I know of. We finally got tired of him pestering us and decided to give him a job and a purpose. Raiden and I both graduated, but he’s the smart one. He thinks it’s important for a man to have his GED at minimum, and so he’s been working with Jonathan not just on prospecting, but on preparing him for the test he’s going to be taking in a few months. I like the kid. He came from a rough home life, the typical trash ass piece of shit father who drinks too much and likes to play heavy with his fists, a mom who worked two jobs, and a ton of little brothers and sisters. He wanted that job so badly because he needed to help his mom put food on the table.
It doesn’t matter how much I like him or how I’ve secretly threatened to maim his father if he lays another hand on his wife or kids, or how the club paid for renovations to the family’s crumbling doublewide. When I follow his line of sight to Lark and see that slight flush creeping up his cheeks just above the baby down he likes to think is a beard, I want to knock him flat to the concrete and crush his skull with my boot.
Right. Now would be a good time to dial back the protective caveman instincts for a woman who doesn’t even know that she’s mine yet.
First thing I’m going to do is take Lark and Penny out to our shooting range and teach her how to use a weapon to protect herself. I’ll talk to Bullet, because he owns the range and heads the local gun club, and Scythe, our sergeant-at-arms about getting her trained with more than just a gun. Knife too. Self-defense. Anything and all of it. How young is too young to learn? I want Penny to know what to do in an emergency. Short of putting a protective detail on them, I’m not going to rest to ensure their safety.
Someone passes me a plate loaded up with two triple burgers and I startle, nearly flinging the thing onto the ground.
Raiden gives me a raised brow. “You were gone there, Prez. Don’t tell me I have to take another trip to Archer’s for heat stroke.”
I peek at the burgers. Ketchup, mustard, two big pickles on the side. No onions or relish. Just how I like them. Lark’s the one making them up. She remembered.
“Thanks again for all of this.” Raiden’s eyes get misty despite the fact that he’s a tough motherfucker. He doesn’t look it the way I do, like a human killing machine, but he is. I would never tell Lark, but her brother is lethal in his own right.
“Fuck, not you, too.”
“Just the dirt in my eyes, that’s all.” He grins, but I see that fear he tries to hide about how much things are changing.
Only an idiot walks the world without fear. Listening to your gut is a good and healthy thing. I nod to let him know I’mwith him and watch him walk off to keep handing out burgers to the rest of the ravenous lot.
I’m a father.Dad. A parent.
A few days ago, I learned the meaning of fear in a brand-new way.
I like to think that I’ll have everything under control, but I just hope that when the time comes for me to tell Raiden everything and claim Lark and Penny as my own that the whole fucking sky doesn’t come tumbling down on top of us.
Chapter 12
Lark
“Where are we going?” I ask the question laughingly and with trust because this is Raiden here. He’s borrowed our parents’ sedan so that Penny can safely come with us. He told me last night that he had plans for us this morning, something we needed to do and would enjoy in the end.
Very. Mysterious.
My brother isn’t one for surprises. He wasn’t before prison and now he detests them. It makes me even sadder when I realize, no matter how he tries to deny or hide it, just how much he relies on order and structure. He had five years of conditioning and it’s a terrible thing that no amount of freedom is going to just cancel that out. There’s no forgetting.
“You’ll see,” Raiden responds cryptically, inked hands strong and steady on the wheel.
