“Come on, Nic,” Duke shouts. I make mocking faces in the mirror and take a deep breath. Alex being all busted up and bed-ridden makes me antsy, and as much as Duke swears she actually enjoys Ryan’s company, I’m calling bullshit. I have to see for myself, even if that means going inside of Jim and Ruby’s house.
I walk into the hall while buttoning my shirt and adjusting my bra. It’s closing in on August, but the cool weather’s set in again this week, making my summer wardrobe useless right now. I lift my head and see Duke at the end of the hall with a new black helmet in his hands. He hands it off to me and strides to the front door. I fiddle with the straps, careful not to drop it. I know he bought it specifically for me, as he wrote my name on the inside and it’s smaller than the one he wears. I place it on my head as I walk out of the house.
When we pull up at Jim and Ruby’s, there seems to be a flurry of activity going on. It’s not surprising with everything. Unfortunately, Ryan’s bike is among the several that are lined up at the garage. After the shit he pulled at the clubhouse—which I have not forgotten about—I’m not really thrilled about seeing him. I can see a total of three men surveying the property outside. The two guys in the front are fully armed, though they’ve taken some care to disguise their large guns from passersby. Forsaken runs the town, for sure, but there are some atrocities they can’t commit without ruffling some feathers. Duke cuts off the bike and waits for me to dismount. I take a deep breath and stare at the house. It takes me back to a place in my past that really sucks, but only now does it feel ten times worse than it ever did before.
Jeremy and I had moved into this house when my dad went to county for the run that went bad down in Oakland. It was kind of Jim and Ruby to take us in, and they were good to us while we were here. I just couldn’t get past my own sorrow to see it then.
The club had been making a delivery of the weed they grow outside of town, and the deal went bad. It wouldn’t have been so awful if Dad hadn’t decided to go rouge and figure his own way out of the mess. Now, he’s down in San Quentin and I’m only able to visit him a few times a year because of the distance.
“What’s going on, baby?” Duke asks, craning his neck around. I take a deep breath and climb off the bike then remove my helmet and set it on the handlebars. Duke dismounts and catches me around the waist before I move away from him. I tense at him touching my stomach. It’s impossible for him to know, but the paranoia that he’s going to find me out is way too fucking real.
“Talk to me,” he says from behind me. He pulls me against him and leans his head down to whisper in my ear. The eruption of nerves that sends my belly into a frenzy isn’t anything new. “We’re not moving until you talk to me.”
“The house,” I say, giving in. If it weren’t for Alex being in there waiting on me, I’d let us stand here until morning came, and I’d still not say anything. I can’t explain to him—not here—that being here right now is hard. I’m barely processing the news, and being here? It’s too much and I want to leave.
“You been back since you moved out?” he asks. I just shake my head and refuse to say anything else. I’ll be damned if he’s going to get me to talk about it. He must sense my reluctance or something, because he doesn’t push. He just lets me take a minute to stand here in the dirt driveway and stare at the the house that once tried to be a home.
A few minutes pass, and I take the first step toward the house. This house reminds me of everything I’ve ever lost. Staring at the wood shingles, I remember my dad leaving—my biological dad—even though I was only a toddler. He got sick of my mom’s shit and split. Can’t say I blame him for wanting to ditch her crazy ass, but he left me, too. Then years after that, she left. Then Butch was taken away. And after everybody was gone and the only person I loved that I had left was Jeremy, we were sent here. And it didn’t matter how nice Jim and Ruby were. Being in their house meant I wasn’t in my own, and it meant my dad really was gone, my mother really was a worthless whore, and my sperm donor was gone—and the latter two didn’t want me anyway. So why should I give a fuck, I’ll never know. And that’s how it is when you’re unwanted—it’s a hole that never leaves you.
“You’re acting weird,” he says. I try to shake it off and mumble something about Chief. It’s cheap, using his death as an excuse for my behavior, but it’s all I’ve got.
“You think Ruby’s a good mom?” I ask, because I can’t help myself.
“Sure,” he says. “Why?”
“Just… you think things would be better… all this wouldn’t be happening if…” I say, trailing off. I want to ask him if he thinks anybody can be a good mom. His mom is a real piece of work when she’s around, which isn’t all that frequent. My mom’s a loser. Between the two of us we don’t have a single biological parent who’s worth a shit.