Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Callow

"Alright, fellow degenerates," Sully called, making Nave and Perish walk out of the kitchen, brows raised, to find Sully standing there in an orange Hawaiian shirt with a pumpkin and black cat pattern on it.

"We party?" Perish asked.

"We hit the bar," Sully said. "Then we bring some pretty back here to party with. I know you're game," he said, looking at Perish. "And the twins," he added, nodding toward the two who were already waiting by the door. "You coming?" he asked, looking at Nave and then me.

Honestly, I wasn't feeling it.

But what was the alternative? Hanging around the clubhouse all by myself? More or less. Brooks was around but he wasn't usually the hanging out sort.

Besides, if I sat it out, Sully would get on my ass about getting old. Which wasn't exactly untrue. I was older than all the other brothers standing around right then. But I didn't want to start feeling like I couldn't keep up with them either.

"Yeah, I've got nothing else to do," Nave said, nodding.

"Same," I agreed.

"Did you call for a ride?" Perish asked.

"We walk," Sully declared dramatically, throwing a hand up in the air.

You wouldn't know by seeing him now that when we met, Sully was a kind of dark guy.

As someone who was prone to dark moods myself, that was saying something.

Sure, a lot of guys who were in the service suffered with depression or PTSD, depending on their jobs and the shit they'd seen. But most of us still carried that shit with us after we got out.

Sully?

Sully seemed to do a full one-eighty. I didn't think I'd caught the man moping or moody since I joined the club.

I was sure there was likely some shrink out there who would say something about how his never-ending partying, sex, and positivity was somehow a mask to protect himself from his darker side.

I honestly wasn't convinced that side still existed, though.

I didn't notice at his declaration that I'd reached down to rub my leg just above my prosthetic. But Sully caught the move.

"We can meet you there if you want to get a ride," he said, likely recalling the aftermath a few months ago when I'd really overdone it physically, causing blisters and swelling that made it all but impossible to put my prosthetic back on until I healed up.

"I'm good," I insisted, shaking off the tension that grew at the memory of that painful week.

Redemption wasn't that far from the clubhouse. And if I was having any pain, I could just get a ride back home.

With that, everyone headed out the door.

It was the first crisp night as we teetered that fine line between late summer and fall.

"Look at this shit," Perish grumbled, bending over to grab a dandelion head and ripping it off of the plant.

"This is where Billie would lecture you about how bees need dandelions," Nave told him.

"Yeah? Got a whole field of ‘em down the street. They can stay out the yard here."

Perish, the absolute tank of a man with ‘bad news' written all over him had developed a borderline hilarious obsession with the grass at the clubhouse.

I once walked outside in the middle of the night for some air after a particularly realistic nightmare to find him walking the grounds with fucking cleats on his feet because he needed to ‘aerate' the grass.

"Uh oh," the woman who owned a walk-up convenience store said as we all walked past. "I hope you ate before you go and drown in whiskey," she added as Sully stopped, resting his arms on the window sill to shoot her one of his charming smiles.

"You got any hot pretzels?" he asked.

"Always," she said, nodding. "But I'm out of the cinnamon sugar dip," she said, walking away to grab six pretzels and pass them to us as Sully paid her.

"We are partying at the clubhouse later if you want to join," Sully invited.

"Oh, my tequila shot days are far behind me. I'm going to enjoy a nice antacid and boyfriend pillow and head to sleep once I'm done here."

With that, we made our way down the road toward Redemption, the club owned by our president and his wife.

Apparently, sometime before me, the club had actually been the headquarters of the rival MC that Fallon's wife was the president of. Until her people fucked her over and forced her out.

Keeping the building and turning it into a bar frequented by our club felt like a great way to say ‘fuck you' to her old club.

"Toll, my man," Sully greeted the bartender as we made our way inside.

I spotted a few of A's guys sitting at a back table. Aside from that, though, the place was dominated by a bunch of early twenty-somethings.

This wasn't exactly the kind of bar that catered to their age group, but I imagined they'd likely gotten kicked out of another local place, given how obnoxious they were being. And the night was young.

"So, what are we drinking?" Sully asked, taking a seat next to two women in surprisingly conservative business attire.

Sure, there was a group of women in tight dresses and heels who were already eye-fucking us. But Sully always loved a bit of a challenge. I would put good money on those buttoned-up women being back at the clubhouse in their underwear in the pool by the end of the night.

With the colder weather coming, I suspected Sully was going to start to nag Fallon and Brooks about the club getting a hot tub now that the pool was old news.

They'd give in eventually. No one could seem to outlast Sully's persistence.

I accepted my beer then moved to sit at the bar, not really in the chatting up anyone mood. Maybe I would be later, back at the clubhouse after a few drinks. Or maybe this would be one of the nights where I went to bed alone, something I'd begun to enjoy on occasion now that I finally had my own room instead of sharing the prospect room with the others. That pleasure was now for Perish and the twins since Sully, Nave, and I officially patched-in.

A minor argument broke out toward the side of the bar, making Toll sigh and make his way out to deal with it.

My gaze started to follow his movement to see if he needed any backup when something else caught my eye, making me stiffen.

There, toward the front of the bar, was a group of guys in their twenties. That whole frat-boy-asshole vibe clinging to them as closely as the too-strong body spray I could smell clear across the room.

They'd been there since we arrived, seemingly chatting up two girls.

It wasn't until the crowd parted a little as two of the guys started to lead the black-haired girl away from the rest of the group, that I realized that this particular girl was not only not twenty-one, but likely barely in her mid teens.

I glanced toward Toll, seeing if I could push the task off on him, but the argument was getting more heated over in the corner, so I sighed and climbed off of my stool as I saw one of the too-old guys snake his arm around the black-haired girl who turned uncertain eyes toward her friend at the table.

The "friend" shot her a thumbs up, oblivious to the girl's uncertainty.

The guys seemed to pick up on it, though. The one holding onto her tightened his grip as the other rushed forward to open the door.

"Great," I grumbled, moving across the bar and getting out the door when they were halfway to their car.

"Hey!" I called, voice taking on that authoritative edge that I could never shake after I'd left the military. "Yo," I called as the guys tried to shuffle faster. "Get your fucking hand off of her," I snapped.

"Mind your fucking business, man," the one not holding onto the girl said.

"Couple of predators trying to take an underage girl in their car, that's my fucking business," I said, shoving him back into his car, taking a little pleasure in the cracking sound and the pain that sliced across his face before the anger replaced it.

I knew what was coming next and was quick enough to duck the punch while bringing my own up and colliding hard with his side, aiming just low enough not to hit his spleen. Not because the fuck didn't deserve a rupture, but because I wasn't interested in spending time behind bars because of a couple of assholes at a bar.

The idiot doubled over in pain. These were not the rough and tumble sort of guys. I'd bet good money on the fact that neither of them had ever been hit in their lives.

Which made it all the sweeter when the other tried to come to his buddy's aide only to get a bloodied nose and lip.

He was trying to keep the blood from flowing down his face when his friend finally recovered from the punch to the gut and came back at me.

Unlike some of the guys in the club, I was slow to fight. I always tried to think of another way around it if possible. That didn't mean, though, that I didn't enjoy the fuck out of one when it came up.

Adrenaline surged through my system, making my movements faster.

Right hook.

Upper cut.

Spin to grab the wrist of the other guy as he tried to grab me.

"Ah!" he screamed as I twisted his hand in the wrong direction, stopping just short of hearing that crunch, some sick part of me really wanted to make happen as he dropped to his knees, gasping for air. "No!" he cried, tears literally filling his eyes.

"You're gonna get your asses in your car and get the fuck out of here. And while you're at it, you're gonna text your other buddies to fuck off as well. Or they get to meet my buddies. Who might not show them as much mercy as I'm showing your asses."

"Okay, okay!" he panted.

The second I released him, he scrambled to the passenger door. His chickenshit friend was already in the driver's seat, trying with shaking hands to stick the key in the ignition.

Turning back, I saw the girl who, up close, looked even fucking younger than I thought. Maybe the effect was due to how wide and innocent her eyes looked right then.

"Give me your phone," I demanded.

She didn't even hesitate as the car peeled away from us, holding out her hand and giving it to me.

She was terrified. The hand shook as I took the phone.

Maybe I should have adopted a kinder demeanor to ease her nerves. But, fuck, she'd nearly been taken out of a bar by guys too old for her to have them do whatever the fuck they wanted with her.

She should be scared.

I scrolled to her emergency contacts and found Mom then hit dial before bringing it to my ear.

"Daph, is everything alright?" the sluggish female voice answered, sounding like maybe I'd woken her up.

"Daph is at a bar and almost got taken out of the bar by two men way too old for her," I said, figuring she'd panic at the sound of my voice, and wanting to give her the facts as quickly as possible.

"What bar?" she asked, and I heard shit hitting the ground as she jumped to her feet and stumbled around.

"Redemption."

There was the shortest of pauses. Then, "Seriously?" she asked, sounding more exasperated than upset.

"Yeah," I agreed. "I'm standing outside with her. Will wait here for you," I said before ending the call before turning back to the kid. "What's your friend's Mom's number?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said, voice a little shaky.

"Figure it out," I said, handing her back her phone.

"She's eighteen," Daph declared.

"Like you're twenty-one?" I asked, barely managing not to roll my eyes at her.

"No. She's really eighteen. She lives alone and everything."

She was still too young for a bar. But if she was at least legal, her fraternization with other adults wasn't any of my business. I would just tell Toll when I went inside to boot her ass out.

"The fuck kind of a so-called friend would let you leave the bar with two guys too old for you?" I asked.

"I can make my own decisions," she declared, lifting her chin.

"Yeah? Your mom agree with that?" I asked.

"She treats me like a baby," Daph insisted, crossing her arms.

"You are a fucking baby," I said, watching her eyes spark.

"Am not," she said, tilting her head to the side, eyes going half-mast.

Christ.

Was she trying to… flirt with me? I was old enough to be her fucking father.

"Save that shit for boys your own age," I said. "Better yet, save it ‘till you're thirty. Boys ain't shit," I added.

"You're a boy," she said, rolling her eyes at me.

I figured this wasn't the time to explain the difference between a boy and a man when she clearly already had inappropriate feelings toward guys older than her.

"Yeah. And I ain't shit either," I agreed as a dark blue SUV came barreling into the parking lot. "Your mom, I'm assuming," I said as the SUV whipped into a parking space a few feet away, the engine not even cutting before the driver's door flew open.

"Daphne Elizabeth Waters what the fuc—" her mother started before she even turned around. Then, getting a look at her daughter, changed tack. "What are you wearing ?" she asked.

I didn't even know what she was looking at because, fuck.

This was her mom ?

I mean, yeah, the genetic transfer was strong.

They both had black hair, pale skin, and big hazel eyes.

But the years had refined the mom's features a bit, chiseling out her jaw and giving her eyes a sultry look.

She was about average height with a compact, but curvy body that she had dressed in casual skinny jeans and an alt-rock concert tee.

I snapped back as the kid tried to insist her mother was overreacting.

"You know what? I don't want to hear it," her mother cut her off. "Get your ass in the car. We will talk about it, at length, on the way home," she said, making Daphne's face harden. But she went and got in the car.

The mom sucked in a steadying breath at the sound of the passenger door slamming hard. Tilting her head up, she closed her eyes for a three count before exhaling and looking at me.

"Thank you," she said, the emotion thick, likely knowing exactly what had almost happened to her kid. "She was supposed to be at her friend's house."

"Maybe having an eighteen-year-old best friend isn't the best idea then," I said, shrugging as said friend walked out of the bar with a group of guys, making me nod my chin at her.

"That's… another conversation I need to have, I guess," she said, looking at the young woman like she'd never seen her before.

I glanced hard at her gorgeous face again, not understanding how Daphne could be her kid.

"You're her mom?" I asked, brows scrunched.

To that, she let out a small laugh. "Let's say the apple didn't fall far from this tree," she said, waving down at herself. "I was seventeen when I got pregnant with her. With a guy who had no business showing an underage me attention."

That would make her, what? Thirty-two or three? She could still practically pass for an older sister to her daughter instead of her mom, though.

"Is that… blood?" she asked, looking down at my hands, making me automatically flex my fingers.

"Yep," I said, nodding. "Let's say the assholes didn't want to be interrupted."

"Jesus," she said, sighing. "Seriously, thank you…"

"Callow," I said.

"Callow, thank you. I don't want to think about what might have happened to her if you weren't here."

Her body jerked hard as her daughter had the audacity to honk the fucking car horn.

"Is she too young to send to the military?" she asked, sighing.

"Day she turns seventeen," I shot back, not realizing my hand instinctively went to my leg until her gaze followed.

"Oh. Shit. Sorry, was that insensitive?" she asked, looking horrified that she might have offended me.

"Not at all. Trust me, my parents wanted me to join as soon as I could too."

"Did it make you less crazy?" she asked. "Because while young motherhood definitely forced me to calm down, I don't really think I want to recommend that to my kid."

"It made me a different kind of crazy, I guess," I admitted.

"Fineee," she said, feigning disappointment. "I guess I have to rein her in myself then. Oh, I'm gonna kill her," she said as the horn beeped again, longer. "Really, Callow, thank you."

"It's nothing," I said, shaking my head.

"It's everything," she said, hazel eyes full of emotion before she turned and walked back to her car.

By the time she reversed and started to pull out, Daphne was slumped down in her seat as her mom chewed her out.

Mission for the night complete, I decided against going back into the bar and just took the walk back to the clubhouse.

Where I shut myself in my room.

And couldn't get a frazzled mom's gorgeous fucking face out of my mind. All the while knowing I'd never see her again.