Chapter 10

Slate

T he more time I spent with Emma and Ashlyn the more time I wanted to spend with them. There was something both comforting and nerve-racking about the woman. She was a tiny thing, barely five feet tall but with enough presence and steel and strength for an army of men. On the outside she was delicate and fragile, but deep inside she was strong as hell, and watching as she slowly discovered it was fascinating.

“Did you see my flip Slate?” Ashlyn’s face was red from exertion and her smile was wide and bright, filled with joy. “Did you?”

“I did,” I assured her as I kept an eye on the meat on the grill. “Lookin’ good, but you need to straighten your legs out a little more.”

“Okay.” She mumbled to herself for a full minute as she eyed the plot of grass in front of her. A few practice flips later and she’d improved. “How was that?”

“Very good. You tryin’ to be a gymnast or somethin’?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “Maybe.”

“The more practice the better you’ll get.” The screen door smacked shut behind me and though I didn’t have to turn to know it was Emma, I did anyway and the sight of her took my breath away.

She wore a pale pink sundress with little bows tied at her shoulders. Her face was clean of makeup and her hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders. Pink sandals finished off the look. It was equal parts sexy schoolteacher and girl next door, neither of which were usually my type, but she was making it work for me. “Hey. Everything okay back here?”

I nodded and turned back to Ashlyn before giving the grill my attention to flip the steaks and move around the burgers and hot dogs. “Everything is great. Ashlyn was just showing me her flips.”

Emma smiled at her daughter. “She’s so happy. So free.” A lone tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away without trying to hide her emotions. “It’s all I ever wanted for her.”

“And you gave it to her.”

“I did,” she replied and stood a little taller as her gaze lingered on the little girl who was cartwheeling across the backyard. “But I was also the one who took it from her in the first place. I made a big mistake.”

“She’s still young and you fixed it, that’s what mattered.” There were plenty of parents who didn’t give a shit about correcting wrongs or fixing mistakes. They simply leaned into shitty parenting without regard for how their children turned out.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” After rearranging the meat to make room for the vegetables, I grabbed two beers from the cooler and handed her one. “You’re going through a lot right now, don’t make it worse by beating yourself up over things that can no longer be changed.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She tapped the neck of her beer to mine and sipped in silence for a few minutes. “How did you become a biker, Slate? Is there a process or what?”

My lips curled into a grin. “The same as a lot of guys, I guess. I had a fucked-up childhood without any structure or stability. I had skills but no idea what to do with them, which of course meant I used them in all the wrong ways in search of someplace to belong.”

Her deep blue gaze was fixed on my face. I had her full attention. “That’s normal.”

“I suppose.”

“But that’s not the full story,” she said with a raised eyebrow,

Dammit, I liked that she had no problem calling me out. “No, it’s not.”

“Okay, another time. Can you tell me about the gang?”

“What would you like to know?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I’m just curious how it all works. You all answer to Diesel, right?”

I nodded.

“But you have roles like a company or the military.”

I smiled. “Right again.”

“What do you guys do, like on a regular day? I mean surely you can’t be fighting for turf and beating up rival gangs every day. Right?” Her brows dipped. “Sorry, that sounded stupid, didn’t it?”

“No, it didn’t.” I explained to her about the different businesses we owned and all the work we did around the community. “And it’s a motorcycle club not a gang.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know and it’s a common mistake. We’re a club not a gang.”

She opened her mouth to apologize again I was sure, and I didn’t want her to. I didn’t want to see that look of fear on her beautiful face again. “Food’s ready.”

Ashlyn darted over. “I’m starving!” Her skin was flushed but her smile was bright as she rushed inside. “Gotta wash my hands.”

“Where does she get the energy?” Emma shook her head, a wistful smile on her face.

All three of us sat down together and ate and you know what? It felt right and normal. It felt like this was something we did often. Regularly. Other than meals with my brothers, I never experienced this. Mom was usually working and when she wasn’t, her piece of shit boyfriends—including my dad—took up her time which left me eating PB&J sandwiches or fast food.

“Is something wrong, Slate?” Ashlyn asked between mouthfuls of her hot dog.

“Nope.” I pulled myself from my thoughts and offered the little girl a smile. “I was just thinking that I never did this with my parents, sat down and had a meal together.”

“Why not?”

“Ash,” Emma chided.

“It’s all right,” I assured her. “Because unlike your mommy, my parents weren’t interested in being parents. But I like it. This is nice.” There were less than a handful of times I actually sat and had a meal with my folks and even fewer of those times were when they were both sober. Usually it was a holiday or when Mom pretended she wanted to start over, wanted to actually be a mom. Those times never lasted long and as time went on, those memories faded from my mind.

“It is nice,” she agreed. “Ketchup please,” she sang as she held up her hot dog. “Thank you!”

Emma watched me squiggle ketchup on the hot dog with a smile curving her lips, but I caught an expression in her eyes I couldn’t quite figure out. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re good with her. Do you have kids?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “Haven’t met the right woman, I guess.” Or maybe I did but I wasn’t in the right headspace to get her contact information. It’s funny, the more time I spent with Emma, the more my memories of Vick were fading. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“You think the right woman is out there?”

“Hell, I hope so.” Otherwise what the f…” I paused, remembering there was a kid present and tried to engage my filter, “What was any of this for?

She gasped. “You’re a romantic.”

My smile was crooked as I leaned in. “Can’t live the outlaw life without being a bit of a romantic, can you?”

Her smile matched mine. “I guess not. Does that mean you’re single?”

I nodded, wondering where this line of questioning was going. “I am.”

“Commitment issues?”

A loud laugh burst out of me. “Not exactly but I’m not one to stick around if I know it’s not going anywhere. Besides all that, things with the MC have been crazy and no one has captured my interest lately.” I sighed and searched Emma’s face trying to figure out if she was flirting or just making conversation. “There was a woman a few years back who I really liked but I didn’t do anything about it and now it’s too late.” Vick had crossed my mind more than once over the years and lately she was there more often than not—or at least she had been, up until a few days ago.

Emma nodded slowly. Her gaze settled on my hands and crawled up my forearms and biceps before her gaze collided with mine. “It’s never too late,” she answered softly.

A small part of me hoped she was right.