Page 7 of Property of Shotgun
That seems so long ago.
Clearing my throat, I glance out the window. Biggie dismounts from his bike, and signals for the rest of our chapter to do the same before they head for the back of the hearse to carry the casket containing Irish’s remains to the plot we purchased yesterday.
I turn back to Jade. “Yeah, it’s just up that hill.”
My gaze darts to the designer heels she’s wearing, and I frown. In the years since she and Irish married, her style has evolved. She went from being the girl who favored the latest pair of Jordans, vintage band tees, and baggie jeans with cuts in the knee that always rode low on her hips, to a woman who gets her hair blown out twice a week and wears six-inch heels and outfits that cost more than my rent. Both versions are beautiful, but I wish the practical girl from apartment B4 showed up today. The ground is soft from all the rain we had yesterday, and there’s no way those heels are making it up that hill.
“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”
My eyes snap up to hers. “You don’t happen to have another pair of shoes in your trunk, do you?”
Her brow furrows. “What’s wrong with my shoes?”
“Nothing, aside from the fact you’re not making it up that hill in those things.”
She purses her lips, popping her seatbelt free. “Watch me.”
Right. In doing my best to avoid spending any time alone with Jade, I forgot how fucking stubborn the woman is. Not looking to aggravate her on what will likely be the most emotional day of her life, I bite the inside of my cheek.
She opens the passenger door, and gets out, going right to the back seat to help Raiden out of his booster seat. I kill the engine on the truck and go to do the same with Legend, but the kid is quick to exit the truck on his own. I hit the lock button on the fob, and shove the keyring inside the inner pocket of my kutte.
“Is she going to fall or something with her shoes?” Legend asks as we round the back of the truck, walking side by side.
I glance down, laying my hand on his shoulder. His concern for mom is palpable. The kid just lost his dad, and he doesn’t understand why. It’s not unnatural for him to fear something is going to happen to his mother too.
“No, we won’t let her.” I give his shoulder a squeeze.
“How?” Legend asks.
My gaze cuts to Jade, as she quietly talks with Raiden.
“Well, we’ll just have to stick close and catch her if she starts to stumble.”
“But you’re bleeding, What if you’re not quick enough?” he asks, his big, brown eyes narrowing at the blood stains on the gauze circling my wrists.
It’s easy for me to ignore them. I’ve gotten used to the burning and stretching sensation, but every little movement makes the skin rip open under the bandages and I bleed. It’s more annoying than it is painful at this point because it’s prohibiting me from riding. But I get how the sight of my wrists could scare a little kid.
“That’s why I saidwe.” I crouch down to make myself eye level with him. “Remember what I told you back at the clubhouse when your mom was getting Raiden dressed?”
His tongue sneaks out and wets his lips as he nods. “I’m the man of the house now.”
“That’s right. Do you remember what else I said?”
“You promised to always be there for me and Raiden, and mom too. But on the days when you can’t, I need to step up and help mom out.” He pauses for a beat. “It’s like my football team. Sometimes we tap in other players on the team to make a play.”
“It’s exactly like that.”
“So we’re a team? You, me, Raiden, and Mommy?”
I swallow thickly, wondering what Irish would think of me infiltrating my way into his family. I want to believe this is what he had in mind when he asked me to look after them, but it still feels like I’m doing something wrong.
“Yeah, bud. Is that okay with you?”
He seems to give it some thought before holding up his pinky finger. “It is if you promise not to die like daddy did.”
Fuck.
I don’t know if that’s something Irish or I considered when he was knocking on death’s doorstep. Neither of us anticipated our brothers would elect me to take his place as vice president of the club. At least I sure as fuck didn’t. I suppose it’s fitting, though, as I’ve always been two steps behind Irish, standing in the shadows.
