“She’s gonna be really happy you’re here.”
She tenses. “Don’t do that, Hunter. Don’t pretend like I’m about to see her, it just makes this harder.”
I nod, apology written on my face. It’s my method of coping but it’s not for everyone.
We reach the headstone and I set her down on the grass, watching as she sits cross legged in front of it.
I run my fingers across the top like every time before. “Hey, mom. Look who I’ve brought to see you.” Keeley stares at me like I’ve gone mad. “It helps, I promise. I’ll just be over-”
“No, stay with me,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me down beside her. She threads her fingers through mine and sighs. “Apparently, your son thinks talking to thin air helps? And we thought he was the smart one.” She chuckles, then all the humor drains out of her face. “If I’d have known you were sick, I would’ve come back. You were like a mom to me when I needed you and I never got to thank you for that.” She shakes her head and looks at me. “This is stupid.”
“It’s only stupid if you think she isn’t listening,” I say.
“Well she isn’t.”
I don’t answer her straight away. I look at the sunflowers I’d placed down just days before. “I like to think she is.”
Her clear pools of blue bore into mine before she turns to look back at the headstone. “You were one of the only people that showed me what it felt like to be loved, even though it was never your job too. Your son may be a biker, but you passed your good heart onto him.”
My heart pangs at her admission, Keeley isn’t a ‘feelings’ person but here she is talking openly about them.
“I’m sorry I’m taking him away from you, Arlene. But I think I need him.” She eyes me and blushes. “I think he’s going to help me heal my fucked up mind.” She covers her mouth. “Sorry, Arlene. I think I can feel the swat upside my head from here.”
I sit back and watch her as she slowly opens up and eases into talking to ‘my mom’. She talks non-stop for another ten minutes before wrapping it up. “We have friends waiting for us and I know they want to get back home so... I guess we should go now. But I want to come back and see you sometime.” She looks at me and I nod with a faint smile on my face, the thought of not coming to see her every week playing on my mind. “Well I guess I’ll see you then. Oh and Arlene? Tell my mom that I forgive her, I love you.”
She kisses her fingertips and presses them to the headstone, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. I pull her against my chest and kiss her temple, ready to say my own goodbye.
“Well mine won’t be as fancy as Steely’s because I’m not going to say bye. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I stop there, feeling a sudden warmth flood through me and I close my eyes. “I know you’d be happy of my choice to leave the club, I can see your smug smile now. You were always like Keeley when it came to the club, but you loved pop so much that you put your own feelings aside, and I know you didn’t want me and Jacques involved. I promise I’ll try and get him out of there, but he’s his own man now and I think he needs time. Anyway, time’s getting on and we need to get on the road. See you real soon.”
I stand up pulling Keeley with me, running my fingers across mom’s headstone with a sad sigh. “Love you, mom.”
Keeley reaches up and touches the scruff of my beard, laying a palm against my cheek. “You sure this is what you wanna do?”
I don’t hesitate in picking her up and walking out of there without saying a word, my actions speaking louder than any words ever could.
“So where is it I’m going to be living? I can see you as a big city girl,” Hunter says as we settle down to go to sleep in a roadside motel.
I scoff. “You obviously don’t know me that well. And if that’s what you’re wanting, you’re going to be very disappointed.”
He pulls me into him so his body curves around mine and whispers in my ear, “I don’t care where I am. As long as I have you by my side and in my bed, I’m going to be one happy man.”
This man is the most perfect example of the phrase ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’. His outer appearance clashes with his inner beauty; beard, hair shorter on the sides and long and unkempt on top, broad physique always clad in black jeans and leather. And the tattoos… the tattoos are a work of art, I don’t think there’s one area of his body, apart from his face and head, that isn’t covered by them. He’s fiercely protective when he cares about something, passionate in his feelings, and scary as hell but I know it’s just a front that he’s put on due to the lifestyle he’s lived, much like me. He’s kind, sarcastic and everything I’ll ever need. He’s perfection personified in the form of a rugged, sexy ass biker.
And he’s all mine.