Page 771 of The Tempted
Chapter Thirty-Two
This blows.
I’ll say it again, standing here, staring at a fucking stone imagining my best friend is standing in front of me and not in a box six feet under. This fucking blows. I picture him leaning against the stone, his leather cut fitted to his upper body. Rolling a toothpick between his teeth, he crosses his arms against his chest and grills me with his eyes. I vividly see him in my mind shake his head, biting back a smug grin, everything about his demeanor says he is itching to tell me I’ve gotten myself into another fine mess. But the words never leave his mouth, just like they never did while he was here with me and not living within my head.
No matter how bizarre the situation he never laughed in my face, never so much as judged me. Instead, Bones worked through my shit with me. He talked to me, listened and asked questions. He didn’t give me the answers; he gave me his advice, put himself in my shoes and told me what he would do if he was in my situation.
“I fucking hate this,” I admit, pulling the baseball cap from my head to drag my fingers through my hair. “I hate that you’re not here. I need you to make sense of what the fuck is going on. I need you to help me figure out if I’m doing the right thing…for them.Because, I gotta tell you, brother, it doesn’t feel right. It don’t feel right fleeing town with Kitten and Eric. I’m supposed to trust the club to handle this shit but it should be me. I should be the one slaughtering anyone threatening my family. Fuck,” I growl, clenching my fist and punching the palm of my other hand. “I don’t even know how the fuck we’re involved in this shit. Why my family? Why are they the fucking bullseye? It made sense with Sun Wu, I fucked up but I don’t even know this gangbanger. They say it’s because hurting Lauren hurts the club and the Pastores, mainly Bianci. I suppose it makes sense.” I pause, shaking my head. “It’s amazing I used to laugh in the face of fear until that day, the day you went away, the day Eric was born and I almost lost both of them too. I can’t fucking lose them. I can’t go through that again, wondering if they’re going to make it or not, stand by helplessly as some mythical god decides if I’m worthy of having them in my life. No fucking way, man. I’m scared as fuck because you’re not here to jump in front of a bullet this time. This time it’s all on me to keep them safe. I know I need to own that shit. I know wherever the fuck you are you’re calling me a pussy right now and maybe I am. I’m fucking scared. What if I’m not quick enough? What if I unintentionally fuck something up, make a mistake and cost them their lives and me my heart.”
I bow my head, staring at the ink on my fingers.
“Do me a solid?” raising my head, I stare at the headstone and clear my throat. “I will do everything in my power to keep Lauren and Eric safe, gonna make you real proud, brother.” I pause, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “But, if you could look out for them too, man, well, I’d appreciate it.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I fit the baseball cap back onto my head about to shove my hands into my pockets when my phone rings. I pull it out, not recognizing the number and accept the call.
“Talk to me,” I say, reaching out to run my fingers over the words carved into his stone, the same words tattooed to my hand.
“Son, I’m glad you called,” my old man’s voice booms in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. Fake ass shit.
This morning I called the number on the business card he left behind and when the call went to his voicemail, I hung up. Then I walked into Eric’s room, watched him sleep peacefully and fucking dialed my old man again, leaving a message the second time.
“Yeah, listen, why don’t we skip the pleasantries and all that bullshit,” I clip. “I got a proposition for you, old man. You like propositions, don’t you?”
He doesn’t answer me right away and I struggle not to hang up on him.
“I’m listening,” he says finally, his voice laced with control as if he was talking to another one of his associates and not his estranged son.
“Time for you to prove if you and that Botox loving mother of mine are sincere,” I start, grimacing at the thought of bringing Lauren and Eric near these people. I remind myself of the alternative and continue. “I need to get out of town for a while. I don’t know how long but I need a safe place to bring Lauren and Eric.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
That’s how much he knew about me. Trouble didn’t find me; it wasn’t something I stumbled upon by mistake, it was my fucking name. He wouldn’t get it though and it wasn’t worth my spit explaining.
“Nothing I can’t handle. I just need to get away with my family for a little bit and figured if you had a genuine bone in your body, this would be the perfect time for you to prove it.”
Silence.
How did this guy make multimillion dollar deals when he didn’t fucking speak?
“Your mother and I left the city, we’re in Martha’s Vineyard on a holiday. I will send a car for you, Lisa, and the child.”
“Lauren. Her name is Lauren and your grandchild has a name too. In fact, I want you to grab one of your fancy pens and scribble their names on your palm. You know what? Forget it. I’m bringing a fucking Sharpie with me,” I snarl.
“Very well…I’m glad you called. I know you didn’t want to and whatever is pushing you to do so must be very troublesome to you or you wouldn’t have reached out. Still, let’s try to make the best of it. I’m excited to spend time with my grandson.”
I think about his words for a moment, wonder if they’re sincere as a part of me wishes they were. Not for my sake, but for Lauren’s. Family is everything to her and even though she doesn’t bust my balls to give my folks a second chance, she secretly wishes I do. She thinks I’m missing something, she hasn’t realized that the only thing I was missing in life was her and Eric.
“I’ll have the car pick you up this afternoon, say, three?”
“Fine, see you,” I say, disconnecting the call abruptly, having had enough of the conversation and the thoughts that came along with it.
I step closer to the stone marking Bones’ grave and rest my hand on top of it.
“Looks like I’m headed on another detour,” I mutter, recalling the day I left my parents’ swanky mansion. Bones was sitting in his old beaten and worn pickup truck when I stormed out of the house. His eyes found mine, and he jumped out of the truck, lowered the lift-gate and helped me shove my shit into the bed of the truck.
“You ready?”
I stared at him expectantly, unsure what I was ready for, feeling like a fish out of water.
