CHAPTER SIX
Dixie Rose
Past
I push the heavy door to the clubhouse open and run down the hall to the bathroom. My bladder is fit to bursting. My shoes pound over the floor as I skid to a halt in front of the door, push it open, shut it, turn the lock, and rush over to the toilet. I use the one in Stone’s office, like my dad told me to. It’s the one that’s always clean. Shoving down my underwear and shorts, I plop down and sigh. I lost track of time playing with the other kids. I love get-togethers. There’s always plenty of food, and I get to see everyone. Usually, it’s just me, Blue, Joel, Calla, and baby Shayne. Finishing up, I wash my hands and leave the office. I enter the hallway and freeze.
He’s there waiting for me at the end of the hallway.
My heart speeds, my palms sweat, and my tummy aches. Daddy says I can trust all the Kings of Chaos brothers, but I don’t like him. He looks at me funny and says mean things when no one else is around. I told my daddy once, and they got into a fight. Stone didn’t like that. He’s the boss, and what he says goes. I don’t want to get Daddy in trouble, so I stopped tattling. “No one likes a snitch, Dixie Rose, remember that.” My father’s words stand out in my mind clearly.
My lower lip trembles.
His lips stretch into a smile.
It should make me feel nice, but it doesn’t. I shove my hands in my pockets and begin the trek down the hallway that I swear has gotten longer.
“Well, if it isn’t the darkie, who likes to pretend she belongs here.”
I dig my fingernails into my palms. Be brave. I don’t know what to say, so I look at the ground and walk faster.
“One day, they’re going to wake up and realize what I already know. You don’t belong here, little girl.”
I shove the door open and run out into the sunshine. Is he right? Will they all start to hate me like he does? I wrap my arms around my waist. If it wasn’t true, why would Mouth say it? Confused, and sad, I wander through the club looking for my dad. On the way, I realize no one else in my family looks like me. How can I belong when I so clearly stand out like a sore thumb? I look at my skin, and wish I could change my color to fit in.
***
Present
I wake up and shudder as I scramble to take myself away from the first moment I betrayed myself and fed into Mouth’s lies. My skin is dappled in sweat. I push the sticky sheets away from my body and slowly ease into a sitting position. They’re back. The dreams once stole away the majority of my sleep. I should’ve known they would return. Running my hand through my hair I take a deep breath.
He can’t hurt me anymore. I’m an adult.
If only that were true. The scars I wear thanks to him have never gone away. When I’m gone I can ignore them, distance myself, and mostly forget. But here, the depths of the muddied waters have been stirred, and all kinds of shit is floating to the surface. God, I hadn’t thought about that day in years. I barley remembered the faded memory until now. I know some people thought leaving and staying gone was a bitch act—I can all but hear their thoughts when they look at me—yet that change of scenery saved my life. There were more reasons for my departure than being butt hurt.
I push the thoughts of my teenage years away and slip from bed. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but I know sleep will elude me. It always does after the nightmares. I walk to the shower thinking about a different time and place. As a teenager, I’d pretend like I was someone else with a different life. I used to find things easier to swallow when the events playing in Technicolor behind my eyelids were a movie instead of my past. Avoidance was one of my favorite coping mechanisms. I’d let myself go numb and cease to exist. When I was locked inside myself, no one could hurt me.
You’re not that girl anymore. You’re a grown woman with the proper tools and attitude to deal with this small minded prick. Don’t forget that.
The stinging water pounds down on my skin and I imagine the heat cleansing me as I remember the evil I swore seeped into my veins. Once up on a time, I constantly felt loathing, self-doubt, and anger hovering just out of reach, waiting to sneak in and consume me. The pressure would build inside me until I was desperate for release. I likened it to my head being in a vice as I tried not to jump out of my skin.
I left this place a shattered, broken, mess of a girl. Little by little, I fixed myself and found a new identity. I won’t lose that now. I can’t. I slow my breathing down and rest my head against the cool tile. In and out. I narrow my focus to the simple act of inhaling and exhaling, imagining my breath is traveling to different parts of my body. I start with the top of my head and work my way down to my feet. When I finish, I repeat, until I’ve hit ten cycles and my emotions are manageable.
I ought to tell Echo about the demons of my past and just how fucked up his father made me, but I don’t want his pity, or disappointment. I can’t stand to change the way he sees me. Weakness around here is a point of embarrassment and shame. That’s one of the things I hate about this world. You’re never allowed to not be okay. You’re expected to compartmentalize, stuff, hold back emotions, and continue to function. People aren’t machines. We don’t work that way, and if you push us too hard, we will break. Especially women. Not that we’re the fairer sex. We’re just treated with far less consideration and kid gloves as we should be. Someone should’ve stepped in with Mouth.
I knew I should’ve felt safe enough to tell my father without being suffocated by the guilt that told me club came first always. I knew this might happen when I agreed to come here, having to reconcile my past with the present, and confront my abuser. All that training, then I’m reminded that I’m just as human as anyone else. I snicker and laughter pours forth. It was laugh, or cry. Today, I choose the first. Secrets have been kept for far too long. I’m going to have to come clean about my past eventually.
***
I walk into the kitchen and sit down beside my father, who’s eating oatmeal with freshly sliced bananas. I hide my smile behind the rim of my coffee mug. He’s taken his new lifestyle to heart. I’ve been in my room for the past couple of hours feigning sleep to avoid the questions that will come with my inability to sleep.
“Morning,” he says around a spoonful of food.
“Morning, Pops. I got something I want to talk to you about.”
“All right?” he says cautiously. “You tell me you’re pregnant and I swear to God, I’m putting my foot up Echo’s ass. I know you’re in love and all that, but I still ain’t had my trust earned yet. I know Mouth. The man can be damned persuasive when he wants to be, and whatever he held over him to get him to back down the first time might resurface.”
“It’s not a card he can pull again. But I have no doubt he has more up his sleeve,” I say.
“And you think this boy is worth dealing with all that?” Pops asks.
“I guess so,” I reply, sipping on my coffee.
He grunts. “Now that we’ve established you’re not pregnant…you aren’t, right?”
“Hell no, Pops. I’m not even sure I’m ready to move in with him yet. Last thing I’ll be doing anytime soon is bringing a baby into this world.”
“Good. Now what was it you wanted?”
“A job. I’m going crazy pattering around the house. You don’t need me anymore.”
“Always gonna need you, Rosie girl.”
I smile. “I love you, too, Pops. But seriously, something during the day would go a long way.”
“I’ll call up Stone, and see what he’s got. We have a lot of new businesses opening.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah, legit ones, Ms. Skeptic. I swear, you should’ve been a lawyer.”
“No, I wanted to finish school before I was old and grey, thanks,” I remark.
He laughs. “I can think of one he needs someone he can trust with, but I don’t know that you’ll like it.”
“Okay, now I’m intrigued. Lay it on me, Pops.”
He laughs. “It’s a Medical Marijuana Dispensary,” he says.
My jaw drops. I’ve seen and heard some things in my day, but this might take the cake. “Are you shitting me?”
“Nope.” He pops his P, and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. His eyes dance with merriment.
I shake my head. “Only Stone would go legal with weed.”
“It brings in big bucks.”
“Oh, I just bet they do,” I say.
“So, you aren’t game?”
“No, I am. Make sure you doctor my name. I don’t want this being traced back to me when I work at a school with impressionable teens,” I say.
Pop laughs. “Yeah, might be a conflict of interest. It’s done. I have to clear it through him, but I know he wants someone he can trust without tying up the boys.”
“Makes sense. Who’s the muscle?”
“Prospects closest to getting patched and a few newer members. If you come into our shop looking for trouble, you have to be new to town or have a death wish.”
I can see the pride in his club shining in his eyes. “What’s the name of the place?”
“King Green,” Pop answers.
I throw my head back and laugh. Of course it is.
“First time I heard you laugh like that in a while,” Pop says.
“You never tried to be delicate before, Pop, just ask.”
“All right, what’s going on with you?”
“Just trying to acclimate. It’s a lot to take in. I left for a reason, and while I dealt with my own issues I never wrapped my head around the thought of being back here full time, and seeing Mouth on a nearly daily basis. It brings back bad memories.”
“And you’re okay with that?” he questions.
I can see the worry in his eyes, and a pang of guilt strikes me. I put him through hell in a lot of different ways. Still, I can admit he failed me as a father. It pains me, but ignorance and denial never helped anyone. I had to face many ugly truths during my journey to be a counselor. You can’t help others if you’re not whole. “Dad, I’m not that lost little girl anymore. I’m not going to hurt myself, you don’t have worry about that. It’s hard, but not impossible.”
“You being straight with me, Rosie? Seems like we spent a lot of our time before lying and denying ourselves and each other.”
“I understand, it was how we were taught to be. Now, it’s different. ’Cause I know better, and I think you’ve opened your eyes.”
“I know I was wrong, Rosie. I can acknowledge it now. Whether I knew the extent of what was going on or not, I should’ve done something long before things became so dire.”
I study the light brown liquid in my cup. It feels good to hear. Nevertheless, it’s awkward to see the regret in his eyes. “Things happened true enough, but I survived.”
“If this continues, I’m going to take Mouth to vote. You don’t treat family like this.”
“I love you, Dad, but it’s not your place anymore. The battle is between Echo and his father,” I say. Your time to fight this battle is long gone and we both know it.
“Humph. You’re always going to be my child.”
“And I’m his old lady. You know how this goes better than I do,” I say calmly.
“You really want me to think you’re okay with that? That you don’t resent me for not being a better father? I know I did wrong by you.”
I sigh. “Dad,” I shake my head, “I won’t sit here and lie. Yes, part of me wishes you’d done something more…that I’d never had to go through the whole ordeal. But the anger, bitterness, and sadness had to be let go for me to find happiness and be balanced. Now, it’s just an unpleasant memory. It didn’t change my entire experience with you as my parent. You sacrificed a lot, and I’ve seen many kids way worse off. I’m not complaining.”
He bows his head.
There’s an awkward moment of silence.
“You need me now, I’m here, Rosie. I won’t make the same mistake again. I’m not the smartest man, but I’m no fool either.”
“I know you aren’t, Pop. I never thought that.”
“No, you were too busy worrying you’d get me in trouble. I love this club. They don’t come first, they come with you. You understand? You need something or someone taken care of, it’s going to happen. I know you left and we let things lie. Maybe it was for the best. I need you to know, Stone would’ve stepped up if he knew that dick was cornering you and taking pot shots at a fucking child. He would’ve kicked his ass from here to kingdom come. I want you to believe that. I never felt you did.”
The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. My head spins. “You sure about that?” I feel compelled to ask the question, though I’m not sure I want the answer.
“Positive. You’re Kings of Chaos, too. I’m sorry I allowed you to ever feel any less than that. You are my legacy, one I’m proud of. Hell, you’re the best part of me. I love my club. I proudly wear their colors. Doesn’t change the fact, when they lay me down, you’re the one good thing I’ll be remembered for. You got heart, grit, and smarts. You didn’t let the fuckers grind you down. You gave them the finger and forged your own path, it takes real moxie to do that. You may be a female, but you got a set of balls on you bigger than a lot of men.”
I laugh. “You always had a way with words, Pop.”
“I mean it.”
I nod. “I know you do.” It feels good to hear the words even after all this time. I finish my coffee and he finishes his food in silence. Pushing away from the table I move to make toast, grabbing his empty bowl on the way.
“I’m calling Stone now. We’re going to call you Rosie La Fleur.”
“I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Pop.”
“It’s a good name. It’ll go over well with this crowd,” Pop says.
“Stoners are supposed to be chill. They don’t care what I’m called as long as I sell them good product.”
“Already talking like a business woman,” Pop says.
“I understand the way people’s minds work, Pop. It’s not rocket science.”
“Yeah, you’d be surprised. Hey, Stone, how’s it going brother. … Yeah? Look, Dixie Rose is climbing the walls, and she’s looking for a gig. I told her about King Green. Do you think you could put her on behind the counter? … Yeah, I think she’d be a good fit, too. Solves the issue of who we put in charge. … Ha, yeah she can whip them into shape.”
I shake my head, blocking them out at they shoot the shit. From school counselor, to marijuana dispensary worker. There’s never a dull moment here with the King of Chaos.
***
Echo
We came up with a truce, but I can still feel the discord floating around under the surface. We managed to finish up our business. After the disappearance of Blue’s ex—the detective—the way we do things changed. We couldn’t be sure of how much he’d learned, or who he’d been siphoning information to. So far, no one had been coming around, but you could never be too good. Besides, routines get you jacked and killed. Change is always good.
I pull up in front of the clubhouse and curse my circumstances. I should be in my own place with my old lady, but Dixie is resistant. I’m trying to be patient, but at times it pisses me off. I’m wrecking my family, and causing drama with my club, and she’s got one foot in the relationship and one foot out the door.
The thought that she could leave so easily bothers me. I didn’t mean to fall for her. She was the least likely option. A few years younger, and the one woman my father would never approve of, she was on the ‘don’t even think about it’ list, until that day that changed everything.
***
Past
My phone vibrates. Shit. It’s Friday, and I was counting on blowing off some steam in the clubhouse with a few of the girls. Being the low man on the totem pole is endless, backbreaking work. People think they go easier on us prospects who’ve grown up within the club, but I think it is worse. They get a kick out of seeing us tested and tried over and over. I pull my phone out and frown at the name. Dixie Rose. What the hell is Hoss’s daughter doing calling me of all people? My father has never hidden how he feels about blacks. Sure she and I are cordial, but we keep our distance to make sure we don’t rock the boat.
“I’m out, fellas,” I say, tossing my cards on the table. I bring the phone to my ear. “Yeah?”
“E-echo?”
“You’re the one who called me, and you’re not sure who’s on the phone?” I ask.
“Yeah, s-sorry.”
There’s loud music in the distance and the sound of voices, but I can still hear the fear in her voice. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“I went to this party with some friends at school and it’s just getting out of hand.”
“The party?” I ask, confused. Isn’t that the point of a party in high school? I’ve been out a few years.
“I-I’m at a party and I think…I don’t know. S-some of the boys are drunk and talking shit.”
I hear a voice in the background say, “What? The biker whore is too good to have a little fun with us now?”
The catcalls set me on fire. I know Dixie Rose, she’s not the type to get wasted and screw random civilians at some party. I’ve seen this happen too many times to the women connected with this club. “Fuck that bullshit. These little punks need to learn a lesson. You go lock yourself in a bathroom or a room and wait for me.”
“I-I don’t want to t-take you away from anything.”
“Stop arguing and do it.”
“O-okay,” she replies.
“Stay on the phone with me until you’re safe.”
The catcalls grow distant and I hold my breath. I have no clue where she is or how long it’ll take me to get to her, if something goes down. I hear a door slam. “You do what I told you?”
“Y-yes, I’m in the third bedroom on the top floor, last one on the right.”
“Good, now where are you?”
“Over at the Fleming’s place.”
I whistle. The Flemings are a wealthy family who have a habit of bailing their ill-mannered children out of trouble. “Damn, girl, you seeing how the other side lives, or you have friends in high places?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice shakes and she begins to pant.
“Hey, don’t pass out on me. Listen to my voice. I’m coming for you, girl. Leaving right now. By the time I’m done, no one else will be saying shit to you at school. I promise you that.” I clench the phone tight. “I’ll be there soon.” I hang up the phone and walk out of the clubhouse with murder on my mind. No one gets away with treating our girls like that, especially not Dixie Rose. I have an eternal guilt where she’s concerned after all my old man has pulled. I see a blameless girl, but he’s always seen the embodiment of evil. Like she’s some sort of brown-skinned Reagan from the movie The Exorcist. As I leave the clubhouse, I ignore the razzing of fellow prospects. My only focus is on reaching the terrified teen.
I make the thirty minute drive in fifteen, and back my bike up onto the sidewalk. Kids are spilling out onto the lawn, crowded onto the porch, and passed out in chairs and the porch swing. I guess that’s a plus to living out on so much land. No one’s going to file a noise complaint. Blue and Dixie Rose are usually attached at the hip, so I’m wondering why she choose this party of all places to get brave and independent. I shake my head. I’ve never been one to understand bitches.
The whispers start and sweep through the crowd like a wave. Heads turn.
I stare them down. That’s right, Kings are in the house. I dare you to say shit like you did to Dixie Rose. The crowd parts and I walk up the porch into the house. I spot the Fleming’s eldest and stare him down.
Blood rushes from his face, making his skin even paler. His red hair stands out like a beacon.
I know his type. Entitled asshole, who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. I know he had something to do with this. I stop in front of him. “When I come back, you and I are going to have a talk. You run, and I’ll find you. You don’t want me to have to chase you. It pisses me off.”
He gulps, and nods. His blue eyes dart from side to side.
“Please try me, Ralph. See, I’m pissed I had to stop what I was doing to come here and I’d appreciate an outlet for my anger.”
“I-I’ll be here,” he stammers. Just like most cowards, he changes his tune when someone his size confronts him and he folds like a lawn chair.
I turn on my heel and make my way up the staircase. After bulldozing through the line formed from the bathroom I stop in front of the bedroom door and pound on it with my fist. “Open up. It’s Echo.” A second later, the door opens and I step inside, scanning her with my gaze.
The once white dress is stained with some sort of drink, making it damn near see through against her sienna skin. Her nipples strain against the thin fabric. The dressed stops at her upper thighs and high heels accentuate her long legs.
My jaw drops before I can contain my reaction. “Dixie Rose, what the hell are you wearing?” I ask.
Her lower lip trembles, her chest heaves, and she bursts like a damn. Tears pour down her face, smearing her mascara, and tiny whimpers spill from her mouth.
Fuck, I broke her. I stare at her, unsure what to do. “Shit. I mean it looks good, or it did before the drink was spilled.”
Her sobs increase.
My head begins to ache. “Come here, girl.” I step forward and pull her to my chest. “Just say the word and I’ll hand you someone’s beating heart.”
“It wouldn’t matter. I was so stupid.” She hiccups. “I–I came here thinking I could b-belong. That I could find someplace where I fit in. It’s sure as hell not with the club. Mouth’s made that more than clear. B-but the school really thinks I’m some seedy, skank by night. God. I don’t know why I exist anymore.”
The pain-laced words are a slap in the face. We all write my father’s attitude off as some silly personality quirk, thinking his and a few other’s opinions are lost in the abundance of acceptance we offer up, but this girl is proof that’s not true. She’s literally considering herself not worth living right now, because she has no place to belong. I’d never been blind to my father’s wrongness, but I see now silence can be equally damning. My gut knots. I need to undo this. We lost a brother recently to suicide. No one took him seriously and we lost him. Her words are raising red flags. “Hey,” I lean back and cup her face in my hands, “you do belong, with us, with me.”
“No. I can’t. Because if I did …” She trails off shaking her head.
“If you did, what?” I ask.
“Then I wouldn’t feel like this.”
“Babe, it’s called the growing years for a reason. No one feels like they know who they are or where they belong in high school. You got it rougher than most, I’ll give you that. People are always harsher on the women of the club, and you got my dad to contend with. I apologize for that. He’s wrong and no one believes his bullshit. You must know that.”
She purses her lips.
“Listen, I’m going to take care of the school shit tonight, okay?”
She sniffs and nods.
“Go get yourself cleaned up, and we’ll go out there and show those motherfuckers they made a grave mistake.”
She slinks off to the bathroom all long limbs, pausing in the doorway. “You aren’t going to tell my father, are you?”
“Do I need to?”
She shakes her head.
“For now, we’ll keep it between us.”
Her face lights up and she smiles.
The change is astonishing. Her beauty sucker punches me. Underneath those jeans and T-shirts, she’s been growing up nicely. It’s like an angel showed herself in the presence of a demon. I’m drawn to the light she exudes. My days of turning a blind eye to one of the biggest flaws of the club is over. From now on, I’ll be the one watching out for her and letting her know to at least one person, she’s important.
She comes out, fresh faced and pulled together. Her hair is tamed into a braid running down her back, and she’s done something to partially dry her dress.
“You want to tell me how this went down?” I ask, leaning against the wall.
“A girl from my school, Stacey, who I thought of as a friend, told me there’d be a party here tonight and invited me out. We’re in the same classes, and we’ve always been friendly, so I figured why not, you know? She picked me up from my house and things were fine until everyone got a little liquor in them.”
“Usually when the truth comes out,” I say.
“Yeah, well it came out in a major way. They started asking me all kinds of questions about the club, and the clubhouse. Assuming I’m some sort of super hooker because my father wears a cut, and I was raised inside the club. I tried to tell them it wasn’t like that, be polite, but they didn’t like that.” Her voice wavers.
“Who’s they?”
She bites her bottom lip.
“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. One way or another, I’ll find out what I want to know.”
“Ralph.”
“Thought so. Little shit has a history with women. Dude’s going to grow up to be a fucking rapist.”
Her face blanches.
“He spill his drink on you?” I ask.
“No. That was Stacey’s friend, Natalie.” She bows her head. “Ralph just made me feel like a whore. He came on to me, I told him I wasn’t interested. He backed off for a minute, then he kept pressing me, getting others involved in the taunts. God, I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”
“When we walk out of here, you hold your head up like the fucking queen you are.”
She ducks her head.
I step forward and pinch her chin. “See this shit, you have to stop doing that. You don’t look down for no one, got it?”
She peers up at me from under her long, dark lashes. “Got it.”
I release my hold and wrap my arm around her waist. “Come on, I’ve got fuckers to embarrass in front of their friends.” I guide her out of the room and down the crowded hall.
All eyes are on us.
Her countenance doesn’t change. She’s downright regal with her head held so high, her nose is practically in the air.
Kitten has claws, she just needed a protector to have her back and defend her from predators. I mean mug every person I make eye contact with, smirking when they glance away. We descend the stairs to find Ralph surrounded by his crew of skinny punks. “I can go through all of you or you can step aside and let me talk to the one prick I need to deal with.” I remove my hand, and Dixie shifts her weight, striking a pose I’ve seen the other old ladies take when they want to seem tough. Nicely done. I give her a look I hope conveys my approval.
“What do you want with Ralph?” a lanky blond asks.
“I want him to apologize for his and his friends’ bad behavior. See, I’m not leaving here until I’m sure he’s learned manners.” I step up to the blond and stare him down.
He trembles like a leaf.
“You don’t want none, Richie Rich. Let your boy take the fall for once. I’m sure you get sick of being the whipping boy who’ll never truly fit in with this crowd. See, I know your pops, he’s not in their league.”
His head drops.
I couldn’t miss old Wayne’s son. He looks just like the small time drug dealer, and in a town this small, no one’s business is private.
The boy steps aside, and the rest of the group follows.
The red-haired prick is sweating bullets. His expensive white shirt has pit stains and his face almost matches the strands on the top of his head.
“You trying to avoid me, Ralphie?” I ask, sneering.
“No, man, I can’t control what they do,” he replies, trying to sound hard.
“Funny, I think that’s exactly what you do. See, these punks think you’re some sort of god. Tonight, we’re going to show them how mistaken they are.”
“I’m not scared of you,” Ralph says.
“No?” I grin and move forward until I’m a millimeter away from him. “Then you’re dumber than I thought.” I grab his hair and drag him across the room to stand in front of Dixie Rose. “See, you owe her an apology.” I force him down onto his knees. “I don’t hear you.”
His cheeks puff out.
I tighten my hold. “Mommy and Daddy can’t touch me, boy. Might want to think twice before you cash a check your ass can’t cover.”
“Sorry,” he spits the words out like an expletive.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I pull his head back at an awkward angle and he cries out. “I didn’t quite hear you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Dixie Rose.”
“Much better. Since you had your cronies join in, I think you should kiss her feet for good measure.”
“I’m not kissing her—”
I plant my foot on his back and shove. His head hits the ground with a loud thud. “What? I couldn’t hear you.”
He glances up at me with fire in his eyes and a rapidly forming goose egg on his forehead.
Please come at me, boy. “Kiss. Her. Feet.”
He grits his teeth and bends down, kissing the toe of her right heel.
“Both of them. Make the noise. I want to make sure she feels you’ve made every effort to make amends.”
He does it and the crowd explodes in ooh’s. His days of pretending to be bad ass in this town are over or numbered.
“Now, get the fuck away from her and stay away. If I hear someone you know so much as breathed in her personal space, girls included, I’ll come back and give you the ass whopping you narrowly missed. You get me?” I ask.
He looks up at me and gives a curt nod.
“Let’s go, Dixie Rose, we’re through.” Not a word is spoken until she climbs onto the back behind me and I hand her my helmet. “From now on, I got your back. Anything happens you come to me first, understand?”
“Why?” Her voice is low and full of an uncertainty that bothers me.
“Because this is the way it should’ve been all along.”
“You expect me to believe that?” she asks.
“No, I plan on showing you. Hold on tight, ain’t got no sissy seat on the back of my bike.” I start up my lady and rev the engine to drown out her response. Nothing I say can change her opinion. I learned early on, actions say what matters.