Slate (Rebel Wayfarers MC) (5 page)

She crossed the room, pulling him into her arms. “Andy, are you sure about this? I don’t want to lose you, too.”

He hugged her tightly. “I know, GeeMa, but I’m not sick; I’m just gonna be working in Denver. It’s only a couple hours away, and I can come back at least one weekend a month. You’re not losing me.” He felt his shoulder dampen. “GeeMa, stop it. I got this, and you know it. The bike is a good one, and it’s as safe as the truck—that’s for sure. Don’t cry; Ben will worry more if he sees you like this. I love you guys so much, but this is what I need to do. I’m going to miss you like crazy, but I got this.”

***

Waiting on the school bus, Andy stood in the front yard like he’d done so many times over the years. Ben’s bus always stopped at the bottom of the hill and disgorged the dozens of children who lived in this neighborhood. With their age difference, the brothers always attended different campuses within the school district, so they never rode the same bus.

Andy was comfortable, with his elbows hooked over the truck tailgate and ass resting on the bumper. No stress, no strain…just waiting. He wasn’t worried about this conversation, because he knew Ben would understand his reasons for leaving. But, he really wanted their talk to go well, since regardless of what he’d told his grandmother, it might be a few months before he could come back.

Listening, he heard the rackety clank of the bus making its way up the highway and looked down the road, seeing the roof of the bus coming into and out of view on the rolling hills. The bus pulled into the residential road fronting the neighborhood and stopped where it always did, halfway between the road they lived on and the next one. Kids began pouring off the bus as soon as the driver opened the accordion doors, and he watched for Ben’s yellow head. Once, one of their grandmother’s friends had called Ben
Goldie Locks
; fortunately for him since he’d hated the nickname, it hadn’t stuck.

The flood of kids slowed to a trickle and then stopped; the bus driver closed her doors and began to pull away. Ben hadn’t gotten off the bus, and Andy narrowed his eyes, thinking. Pulling himself upright, he walked to the kitchen door quickly. “Hey, GeeMa, did the school call?”

She yelled back, “No, nobody called, Andy. Why?”

He growled out a string of inventive curses, “He wasn’t on the bus. Ideas?”

Listening closely, he heard her sigh before she responded, “He doesn’t ride the bus anymore. He rides with one of the older kids from school.”

Andy thought for a second, paying attention to what she hadn’t said. “Do you know who this kid is? Ben’s only fourteen, in junior high. This kid must be in high school. What’s his name?”

She stuck her head around the doorframe to look at him. “
She
is Benita Owens, and yes, she’s a sophomore at Enoch High.” Ducking back out, she left him standing there with his mouth gaping open in surprise.

“Owens? Darren Owens’ girl?” he asked. “How did Ben meet her?”

The too-casual answer came quickly, raising his hackles again. “He said they met in church; isn’t that sweet?”

“The question is whether he’s sweet on her, and if he knows what Darren would do to him if he left her less sweet than she is now,” he retorted. “Church, my ass—that girl is dangerous for him. Hell, her daddy owns half the town.”

He walked back outside, sitting on the edge of the porch and watching the road. Nearly two hours later, he saw a gray sports car turning towards the house. It pulled up in front, and Ben stepped out of the passenger side. He moved to the back of the car and took several bags from the trunk, and then walked to the driver’s window. It buzzed down, and he leaned in for a few moments, pulling back with reddened lips and color in his cheeks.

“Love ya, Nita.” He leaned back down for a second,
and then stood back up. “See ya, baby,” he spoke to the driver of the BMW. Stepping back, he walked out of the way, as the car made a U-turn in the street and quickly drove back down the hill to the highway.

Strolling up towards the house, he saw Andy sitting on the porch and his face broke into a huge smile. “My favorite brother
, Andy, my man, whacha doing here?” He stepped up onto the porch and set the bags by the wall; squatting on the edge of the porch for a second, he dropped his feet and legs over the edge, slapping his ass down.

“I’m your only brother, asshat,” Andy responded.

Ben turned with an affectionate fist bump to the shoulder for Andy and grinned devilishly. “Hope you weren’t waiting long; I had to take care of my girl before I came home.”

Andy looked hard at Ben, trying to see past the tousle-headed little boy he used to be, who had always-worried eyes and a soft spot for strays of any kind. Looking at his brother now, he saw a young man taller than most fourteen-year-olds, with light
blond hair long enough to style and ice blue eyes that seemed to smile all the time.

He was fit and defined, and walked with an easy grace. He honestly looked closer to seventeen than fourteen. In his face, you could see the man he would grow into, with a strong jaw and slightly upturned, straight n
ose. Ben was going to be a lady-killer, for sure, but he was starting too young, and with the wrong girl.

“Ben, you are fourteen. Ain’t nobody taking care of their girl at that age,” Andy drawled. He was a little put out with Ben, but couldn’t put his finger on why.

“I might be fourteen, but I at least
have
a girl,” Ben teased Andy. “I’m not sitting home every night with Rosie Palm and her five sisters, man.”

“Goddammit, Ben, do you know what her daddy’d do if he heard you talking like that about his little girl?” Andy twisted to look at the bags, zeroing in on what bothered him. “And what’s up with the shopping? You come into money I don’t know about?”

Ben had the grace to look a little sheepish. “She bought me a few clothes, is all. She wants me to look nice when we go out with her friends.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal; it’s only a couple of things.”

Andy looked at him and ran one hand through his hair. “If you needed new clothes, why didn’t you tell me, Benny? Have I ever said no?”

“It’s not that, Andy. My school clothes are all fine. These are for going out in, and they aren’t practical.”

Shaking his head, Andy looked at Ben and decided to change the subject. “Benny, you know I lost the mill job, yeah?” Ben nodded. “There aren’t any other jobs around here, so I’m headed to Denver in a couple of days; there’s oilfield work there. I’ll be back as I can, and I’m gonna send money to GeeMa for you.”

Ben sat and looked at him for a second, then leaned forward to put his elbows on his legs and dropped his head into his hands. With a strangled voice, he asked, “You’re leaving, Andy?” His fingers clenched in his hair and he rocked back and forth for a second.

Slinging an arm around his shoulders, Andy pulled him into his side in a one-armed hug. “It’ll be okay, shrimp. I’ll be back for a visit in a few weeks.” He could feel Ben’s muscles tense and tighten all over his body; he was holding himself stiff and eventually pulled away from Andy’s grip.

“Okay, Andy. Whacha need me to do?” Ben asked softly.

“Don’t need you to do anything, shrimp. Just keep going to school, learn lots, and do good things.” Andy pulled him back into a full hug, folding Ben against his chest and resting his chin on his little brother’s head. “I got this.”

Releasing Ben, Andy cut his eyes over to see his reaction. Pleased with his calm aspect, he laughed. “Hey, I bought a bike. Wanna see her?” he asked, and then laughed louder when Ben’s face shone with shock and awe. They slid off the edge of the porch, both of them slapping their ass to get any dust or dirt off and grinning at each other like crazy people. They’d always liked it when they did things in sync; it emphasized the fact they were family.

As they walked over to Andy’s truck, Ben was making all of the appropriate noises of appreciation for the bike. Andy looked proudly at her again, loving the sleek lines of the fairings and the tank; running his hands over the leather seat, he flicked his fingertips against the fringe underneath. “She was a good price, an Indian Chief Roadmaster. She’ll be lots cheaper on gas than the truck, and powerful enough to take pretty much anywhere.”

“Oh my God, Andy, this bike is awesome. Red, white, black, and chrome. Can we unload it? I want to watch you...hell, I want to drive it.” Ben was suddenly looking and sounding fourteen, overly enthused about a motorcycle.

“No way you’re going to drive her,” Andy shook his head, “but we can unload her. You can see me ride for a minute, and then I’ll show you how to check the oil and stuff. It’s a little different from the dirt bike.”

Putting down the truck’s tailgate, Andy dragged out the planks he and Harddrive had used to push the bike up into the bed of the truck. Wedging them into place, he climbed up and straddled the bike, loosening the straps that held it upright. Slowly, he began backing the bike down the makeshift ramp and breathed a deep sigh of relief when he got to the ground without falling off or turning the bike over.

Turning the key, he kicked the bike into life, watching Ben’s face as the engine revved. It grew louder and then backed off, the pipes burbling with power. Nodding his head, he pulled out of the driveway slowly, letting his feet drift inches off the ground until he was safely turned to go down the hill. Pulling away faster, he picked his feet up and started shifting through the gears as he reached the main road. In the mirror, he saw Ben still standing beside the pickup, so he raised one hand and waved before he goosed the bike.

The wind teased tears from his eyes as his mouth froze in the widest smile he’d ever felt on his face. He instinctively crouched down over the gas tank, streamlining his profile for speed. When he realized how fast the vegetation was flashing by in the ditches on either side of the road, he glanced down at the speedometer and saw he was going over one-hundred-miles per hour. Backing off on the throttle, he slowed down to highway speed and sat upright on the bike. After slowing even more, he pulled to the shoulder and looked up and down the highway, turning around to head home.

Driving back up to the house, he saw Ben had remained in the same place beside the truck, and he lifted a hand to wave at him as he drove up. He killed the engine, and put down the kickstand; tilting the bike, he couldn’t get the grin off his face.

“Brother, that bike is awesome,” Ben growled out, and Andy grinned some more.

“I know, right? It’s just so good; it feels like this is what I’m supposed to be doing.”

***

He sat on the bike in a parking lot two blocks from her house. He’d already put the truck in storage, and had the few things he was taking packed in a backpack and the pannier bags on the bike. This was the last stop on his way out of town, and he was contemplating simply leaving without seeing her.

Leaning his elbows on the handlebars, he rubbed his face in his hands briskly, twisting his neck back and forth. Adjusting the backpack on his shoulders, he kicked the bike to life and idled out of the parking lot.

Pulling into her driveway, he saw the car was parked in the back and knew that it was likely she was home. He hoped this visit wouldn’t last long, but he wanted to let her know he wouldn’t be around, that she had to take care of her own shit. Parking, he put the kickstand down, angling the bike over as he stepped off, and onto the driveway. He dropped the backpack on the ground beside the bike and walked up to the backdoor of the house. He raised his hand to knock at the door, and then dropped his hand silently back down to his side, still not sure he wanted to do this.

Before he could walk away, the door opened, and a tall, scrawny man with an unbuttoned, stained shirt free from his waistband stood in the doorframe with a lit cigarette in his fingers. His fingernails were long and yellow, and his skin looked dingy, like it had been some time since he had showered. They stared at each other for a minute, the guy giving him time to speak first, but Andy stood silently.

“The hell you want here, boy?” was the guy’s even greeting as he lifted his cigarette to his mouth, taking a long drag. Andy looked at him steadily. “Susan here?”

“Yeah, she’s here, but you ain’t gonna get anything; she’s passed out,” the man said with the same even tone, no animosity, dragging hard on his smoke again.

Andy’s eyes closed for a second. “Susan’s my mother.”

“Oh, man, you do
not
want to see this, then,” the man said, his voice animated for the first time as he moved slightly over into Andy’s way. He blocked the entrance and lowered his head to look at his bare feet.

Shaking his head at him, Andy sighed, “I’ve seen it all, man,” and stepped around him, headed into the house through the doorway.

The backdoor opened into the kitchen, and he looked around the small room but didn’t see her, so he continued into the living room and pulled to a stop barely inside the doorway. “I told ya that you did not want to see her like this,” the man said from behind him.

He was right
, thought Andy;
I could have lived my entire life without seeing my mom like this
. She was on a stained and discolored couch, lying sprawled on top of a man. They were both naked, and even passed out, his dick was still inside her.

There was a second man, kneeling between their legs. Propping himself with one hand on the back of the couch, he was moving back and forth, in and out; his dick was in her, too. Andy could see blood on his mother’s ass, but her face gave lie to any discomfort. In her passed-out state, she was as placid-featured as any bored debutante at a party.