Brick

School was never my thing and still ain’t my thing. I’ve found a new life and wouldn’t trade it for anything. Being surrounded by dozens of damn ankle biters running up and down the school hallways creeps me the fuck out. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention, nostrils flare, my hands balling into clenched fists.

Eden. It’s always about Eden. She’s my core. The beautiful woman is always bringing me right back to reality. It’s her simple touch or quick peck to my cheek that does it.

Wilder’s talking a hundred miles a minute about something as we weave through a mass of kids. None of that matters because this woman is magical. She’s attentive to Wilder while reaching for my hand, coaxing my fingers to relax and intertwine with hers. It works every single time.

It’s moments like these that we still live through every single day. There ain’t no fucking ‘happy ending riding off into the sunset’ type of bullshit where it’s all hearts and perfection. No. It’s like it’s always been between us. Real. Raw. A force.

The wounds and now scars that were left on my skin in Colorado are the brutal reminders of our reality. Eden wears hers on her soul. Ironic how our world came full circle that day and everything we fought was won, but not without a price. It shows in my limp. The deformed skin on my leg from where I was set on fire. I hated it all until Eden taught me to love them. She’s spent time kissing each of the scars until all I could focus on were her lips. Now, when I look at them, I see her, our future, and the home we’ve built.

Who knew that damn old house I was embarrassed to show her would become our kingdom. That was all Eden. She sold her house and had the club move her shit to my place while I healed. My vixen took it all on her shoulders without one complaint. Ironic how roles have shifted since the day we met.

“You okay?” She peers up to me, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“Yeah,” I growl. My leg aches something fierce, but I refuse to give in to the limp. I’m coming back stronger and better after months of healing. Nearly eight months, to be exact.

“Mitts.” Wilder tugs on Eden’s hand then points to the small playroom next to the even smaller waiting room.

It took me forever to figure out what in the hell he was calling her. She explained to me it’s what he’s always called her. His baby talk version or some shit like that, and it stuck.

“Go ahead.” She leans down and kisses the top of his head.

Wilder lets go of her hand and darts off to the play area. Legos. Yep, Wilder goes straight for the Legos. He’s infatuated with them. I bought him every damn set Target had. Even went to the Target in the neighboring town and bought him a few new sets. It was the day I took my first ride on my bike. And I was out taking care of my family.

The fact he let go of her hand on his own will is the greatest hurdle we’ve leaped. He’s afraid of being left alone, always has to be at Eden’s side or in the same room with her. The past week, I’ve found him following me around the house. It made me smile and felt fucking weird all at the same time. The person who caused this shit storm and took the life of his son’s mother might be the only bastard to thank.

To all our shock, he took damn good care of his son. Last week, at his counseling session, he opened up about the trip and his dad, the games they played and movies they watched. So much of the information comes in the form of drawings, and the rest is a tedious process of waiting for him to talk.

The boy is damn smart. Shit scares me sometimes. He knows how to run all the electronic devices playing his games, sings songs, and attempts the alphabet. Eden was persistent getting him back into the same preschool with the same teacher and familiar friends. It was the only thing she could give him that he’d remember.

I ain’t one for organized institutions and all the damn red tape boxing you in, but watching Wilder adjust and open up, I’ll dance right through that tape.

I run my hands over my hair, stopping on the back of my neck, squeezing the worry out of it. We are all out of the danger zone but facing something even scarier. Healing. Learned a lot of shit about myself on that cold cement floor struggling to gulp in air. I’ve never healed. Fuck, haven’t even tried.

“What are you thinking about in there?” Eden snuggles into my side, staring up at me. “You’re lost in your own head again.”

I press a chaste kiss to her forehead. “You happy?”

She wrinkles her nose, not following me.

“Do you miss the hospital and working?”

It’s not a lie. So many memories, thoughts, and what ifs attack me on a daily basis. They never leave me alone, not even late at night. Every once in a while, Eden will catch me at the right time, and I’ll ask her a question to ease my soul. My attempt at healing.

“I miss some friends.” She shrugs. “We keep up on a group text. But, honestly, I don’t miss it. Still love medicine, but I’ve been there and done that. Now, I’m doing something so much more important. Building my future and loving my family the way I want.”

Honesty dances in her eyes, her smile sealing the deal, and Eden’s touch sending her words right to my heart.

It ain’t easy giving this much trust to someone. She’s mine and the world knows that, whether it be her leather cut with ‘Property of Brick’ on it or me beating the shit out of them when they look at her. What the world doesn’t know is, this woman gives more than she takes. Sacrifices her all to protect her family. First fucking time I opened my eyes after being nearly beaten to death was to Eden by my side and Prez walking into the room.

Neither of them noticed I was awake. Eden was up on her feet in the blink of an eye.

“Take me. Please, just let him be,” she pleads.

“Eden, you need to be sleeping. Can’t be staying up all hours through the night while Wilder sleeps. You’re gonna crash, and that ugly bastard needs you.”

Their footsteps grow closer.

“I know you’re going to punish him for me walking into church. Please don’t.” She pauses. “Punish me. Do what you need to do. Just leave him alone.”

Using all my energy, I roll my head to the side to see Curtis pull Eden into a hug. Her body shudders with her own sobs. Prez rocks her back and forth until her cries quiet. My eyelids grow heavy, but I refuse to give in to sleep.

“Brick’s paid his dues. Ain’t no punishment coming. The brother fought with all he had.” The words get stuck in his throat, coming out full of emotion. Only seen Prez get choked up one time, and that’s the day he buried his dad.

“Good, darlin’.”

“That’s it? After I just word vomited on you?” She slaps my chest and then sits back in her chair. I don’t miss her wincing when she does. She’s been going to the gym every morning. Wilder takes some kind of class there, while Eden works out. Should start to remember that kind of shit.

Gonna need to ask the prospect to figure that out and relay the information. My woman and boy always have someone with them at all times. It’s me or a prospect, and I don’t ever see that shit changing. You piss off one hornet’s nest and another one is lurking in the shadows waiting their turn to attack.

“Quit your bitching before I stick my—” I lean in to whisper in her ear—“my big, fat cock in your mouth.”

Eden giggles and shakes her head, pushing me back. I relax back in the seat, stretching out my legs. And just like that, Eden used her voodoo magic on me, forcing the cyclone of demons in my head to quiet. We are chipping away at a solid block of wood to reach the core of us. Or, as my loving dickhead brother likes to refer to, chipping away the layers of my brick wall.

We watch Wilder as he pieces together Legos. His tongue darting out between his lips as he concentrates with his nose wrinkling up every five seconds. I find myself watching him playing on the living room floor with his toys at night, studying his ticks and innocent wonder.

“Is that a—”

I cut Eden off, leaning forward, squinting my eyes. “It’s a damn motorcycle.”

The boy doesn’t build basic shit like most kids his age. Wilder never follows the picture instructions either. It’s all him thinking outside of the box, building what he wants. Every single day, he never ceases to amaze us.

“Steal it when they call us back,” Eden demands in a hushed whisper.

I shake my head knowing I’m about to battle the Mitts bear. Eden refuses to use any reference to being Wilder’s mom. She’s his Mitts and honors Zoe daily by sharing the memories of her. Wilder will know how much his mother loved him.

“Woman, you’re crazy. I ain’t stealing toys from a damn preschool.”

“Motorcycle, or you’re cut off. And really, Saxon, petty theft from a preschool would make you look like a saint.” She points a finger at me.

She’s threatened cutting me off before, but that shit don’t last, but it’s a different story if it’s anything that involves Wilder.

“You’ll be suffering if you cut me off. I know how much you love my cock, darlin’. Those fingers of yours might be full of magic when they wrap around my shaft, but they ain’t got nothing on the way I make you feel. You know it, and so do I,” I whisper in her ear, smirking as I do. She squirms, presses those legs of hers together, and just when I think I got one up on her, she bends over, tying her shoelace, and makes my dick hard, the zipper in my jeans threatening to break.

“Jesus Christ, woman what is that?” I reach forward, pulling back the hem of her skirt. Before I go any further, I glance around to make sure we are still the only family in the waiting room. Carefully, I peel off the plastic bandage.

“Take a look and then talk smack about your cock.” She giggles.

“Property of Brick,” I mumble. Fuck me. My fingers are itching to trail over the tattoo right above the crack of her ass.

“Get the hell back up here.” I glance at Wilder to make sure he ain’t looking. Grip her by the back of the neck and yank her up.

“I told ya I’d own that ass. I love you, darlin’.”

The smiles we share with each other are more powerful than any ‘I love you.’ Can’t wait to trail my tongue over each letter on her ass after it’s healed. Then I’ll take over proper ownership of that ass, making my girl scream the whole time.

“Wilder,” a gentle voice floats in the small area.

Miss Rachel peeks her head out of her office. She’s the one who approached us when Wilder returned. It was no secret what he went through. I’ll give credit to Miss Rachel approaching us about counseling because I may be a big badass scary biker guy, but it was Eden who had her hackles up. It took Eden sixty seconds to fall in love with Miss Rachel, and since then, they’ve been on the same page.

Wilder pops up on his feet, races over to Eden, and tugs her from the chair.

“Our turn,” he sings out. She’s gone into every session with him. Some days, they come out giggling and carefree, while other days, the defeated look on Eden’s face slices me wide open.

Eden hops up from her chair pretending Wilder pulled her up. She peeks over her shoulder, swings her hips from side to side as if stretching out. I know better; my girl is taunting me. She’s just begging for a hard and rough fuck tonight.

Before focusing forward, she sends me a death glare and mouths, ‘Do it, or else.’

Great, now I have thirty or so minutes to sit here and form a plan to steal a Lego motorcycle from a preschool, I think as a stare at it in the toy corner. Karma is a dirty bitch in the form of stealing from preschools. What’s next? Stealing an old lady’s cat Wilder falls in love with? Doesn’t matter because I’ll do it.

There’s light tapping on my knee, distracting me. I turn to see Wilder standing in front of me. He holds his hand out to me palm up.

“Will you go with me today?”

His question shocks the shit out of me. Wilder kept his distance at first but has grown more curious over time. I roll his question over and over in my head. My throat threatens to squeeze shut.

“Saxon.” Eden’s loving voice washes over me.

I look to her then back to Wilder. He’s smiling at me and confident. He drops Eden’s hand and steps between my legs, placing his tiny palms on my thighs.

“I love you like Mitts. And I wanna”—he stumbles over his words for a few beats. It happens when he’s trying to get a lot out—“wanna motorcycle like you, and I like it when you read to me.”

Son of a bitch. This is what true love feels like. It’s raw and honest in the form a four-year-old boy. Ain’t ever been a liar or fraud, and am not starting now. Not gonna hide from what’s happening right in front of me because there’s no need to mask my emotions anymore. Not with these two in my life. Tears form in my eyes, my heart swells, and I’m man enough to let them spill over.

I lean forward until I’m nose to nose with him. “I love you, too, Wilder. I’ll be by your side today, tomorrow, and forever. Whatever you need or want, I’m here. The three of us are our own family, and ain’t no mother— I mean, no one gonna change that fact. Every morning and night, you gonna hear three words from me. I love you.”

He shrugs. “Okay, so you wanna go with me?”

I chuckle and ruffle his hair. “I’ll take you out on my bike this afternoon. We can start shopping for a little dirt bike for you. Gotta start out slow.”

Shit, I want to sprint out of this place this second and go buy him a 50cc with training wheels and all the gear to accompany it.

On cue, Mitts bear clears her throat, bites her bottom lip trapping in her verbal assault, and shakes her head. “Something we will have to talk about in a few years.”

She overemphasizes the last part. I stand up and wave her off.

“Don’t worry, Mitts, we men have this.”

“Yeah,” Wilder agrees.

Eden’s dying to respond but keeps her mouth shut as we enter the colorful office. The explosion of colors makes me dizzy, but I can see how it would make a child comfortable. Eden pulls me down onto a leather couch, while Wilder scurries around the room. It’s clear they have a well-established routine here as I watch him.

Eden leans over whispering into my ear. “Don’t forget to steal that motorcycle before we leave.”

I glance down at her. “Babe, ain’t no way. Was gonna make a plan to nab it while you guys were in here, but now…”

She clutches my forearm, kisses my cheek lightning fast, and then hits me with a sugary, sweet smile. “Get it.”

I shake my head, but she’s not done.

“So I can ram it up your ass.”

I can’t help the laughter that spills from me. Miss Rachel and Wilder don’t miss a beat going on about their business. Gonna have a little fight on my hands over the motorcycle-riding issue. Ain’t no worry. I’ll fuck some sense into her. Works every single time. I reach over and splay my palm out on her belly, lean in to whisper into her ear, and trace the shell of her ear with my tongue before speaking.

“Property of Brick. Your ass says so, darlin’. And what’s gonna happen when our second little boy is born in six months? Shit, better buy two while I’m there.”

I’ll never tell Eden, but I wish for a little girl every single night. One with her eyes, same color of hair, and warrior spirit. And you can bet your damn ass my little girl will be riding, too.

The End