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Also in the bag was a new set of charcoal pencils so I could draw, a new sketchbook that was in the form of a journal, and a black box.
Inside the black box had me giggling. A little note was inside with the necklace that read, ‘Where we began.’
It was a gorgeous silver chain with a wrench pendant on it. That had started the tears to fall.
That started my fascination with silver as well.
Outside everyone was waiting on my daddy, but he paid them no mind because he was more concerned about me.
He had seen the gift Tank had given me, and then he wrapped me in his strong arms, as I let the tears fall.
He held me tight and whispered in my ear, “He will be okay. Tank is one tough son of a bitch. You just keep on having faith that he will come back to you.”
I nodded at my daddy, pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiped my eyes, and then let him go.
“Want me to do the honor?” He asked as he nodded at the necklace.
I giggled, wiped my tears, and nodded.
After he had the necklace latched, I whispered, “You see it too?”
He didn’t have to ask what I was talking about; he knew. Just like I knew.
He knelt in front of me and nodded, “Been on this earth a lot of years, Cookie. The connection the two of you share is rare. So rare in fact, I’ve only seen it once, and that was your grandparents. He will come back home to you. Mark my words, baby.”
They were going on a run to help benefit a cancer patient.
I waved him off, but not before he turned to my mother and snapped, “You dare take that shit away from her, it won’t be fucking pretty.”
That night, I went to bed, wanting to run to my father to tell him what I had seen.
Shortly after he had left, my mother brought out her true colors.
Not even an hour later, I had seen her outside against the building getting fucked by a man I didn’t know.
And yeah, I know that an eight-year-old shouldn’t know what the word fucked or fucking meant, but I was a biker princess. I knew a lot of things I shouldn’t know.
I didn’t know if my dad knew that she was sleeping with other men.
But if he didn’t, I didn’t want him to know. My daddy was the greatest man on the planet, and I never wanted to hurt him.
However, my dad had always taught me to tell the truth, even if it may hurt someone.
I was so proud of the man I got to call daddy.
But I wished I could spare him this heartache.
Well, it wouldn’t really be considered heartache. Not really.
I knew he didn’t love my mother.
But he tried. I know he did.
People didn’t realize the things an eight-year-old heard and saw.
That night I fell asleep after sketching out Tank. And I fell asleep clutching the pendant. One I vowed to never take off.
Luckily, I didn't have to tell my daddy. Because apparently the run he was on hadn’t taken long at all and he had texted me that he was on his way home early and he told me not to tell my mother.
