Truth be told, sex isn’t high on my agenda, and I can take it or leave it. I was twenty-two when I got married, thirty-four when we divorced. I hadn’t gone crazy when I regained my freedom, too much else was happening for me to think about getting laid.
It’s unusual for my cock to perk up at the mere sight of a woman. Today, though, I have to be grateful that my jeans are not particularly tight.
That Patsy wasn’t immune to me either was evident. Though she was naturally scared about a strange man being in her house, I sensed there could be a reciprocal interest. It was an intriguing situation, but one I wasn’t in any particular hurry to do anything about. Getting my rocks off I can do just as well with my hand in the shower, and it doesn’t expect hearts and flowers to follow as a result. Patsy? If I read her right, she’s a respectable woman and not one to enter into what could only be an enjoyable interlude jumping into the bed of an MC prez.
Even though I dismissed any thought of exploring this mutual attraction further, I noticed how she flushed when I used the wordbabeinstead of her name. It amused me, so I continued.
But now all thoughts of anything to do with sex and a bed has been pushed aside as I consider how to proceed with the predicament she’s gotten herself in.
Sure, she’d fucked up and potentially brought trouble on herself. She’d not been as clever as she’d thought when she contacted the daughter she shouldn’t have been talking to. But hell, who can blame her? She’s a mom, of course she’d want to ease her mind and reassure herself everyone she’d left behind was fine. Problem is, if Alder does indeed know her son is alive, he probably won’t rest until he’s dead.
Of course her first impulse is to run again, and there’s probably a good chance that after a slap on the wrist, the marshals will help them get settled elsewhere. But how long before she slips up again? She’s a mother who’s desperate to know what’s going on in the life of her daughter.
She could be relocated anywhere, or maybe, she wouldn’t. I revise my thinking. Maybe this time, the feds would move her son on his own. He’s the one the marshals want to protect in case they need his testimony. I doubt she’s thought about being split up, but she was the one who’d betrayed them. As far as I know, Dan has kept his mouth shut.
If they did move them both, someone else will have the responsibility of watching out for her. My fear is they’ll go to Alaska, or somewhere where there are no Devils or MCs we know and trust. Surely, that’s worse than her staying in California, where at least I can have an eye on her?
She’s a woman who brings forth all my protective instincts and I already know I’ll want to do what I can to help her.
She’s naïve. Not about life, in everyday living I’m sure she’s competent, but in our world? She doesn’t have a clue about security or protecting herself. I suspect Dan isn’t much better, else he’d have already changed that lock.
But how can I help them? How can I do this and not involve my club in danger that isn’t our business?Leave it to the marshals. Not my problem.I try to tell myself that, but my brain seems focused on what assistance I could provide.
I consider what we know and what we don’t. The likelihood is that Alder knows the city they are staying in, or at least have recently visited, but not their exact location. Maybe we can prevent him finding out and coming closer? What if we moved them to a new house, or, temporarily, into the clubhouse?
She’s standing watching me, waiting for my response.
“I don’t think relocating again is the answer.”
She briefly closes her eyes. “I admit, moving is the last thing I want to do. I’ve just gotten settled.” She looks around the house that’s already showing signs of a woman’s touch. “It will be an upheaval for Dan. He’s just gotten his job and plans to enroll in college in the fall. But I don’t see any other option, Lost. Even the suggestion Alder knows my son isn’t dead is terrifying.”
I should tell her there are jobs and colleges anywhere, but the words seem to get stuck in my throat. Instead, I point out some home truths to her. “The marshals will want to know how you fucked up, babe. What if they decide you’re a risk to Dan? They could move him, but not you.”
Now her eyes go wide. “But, but… They wouldn’t do that, would they?”
“They very well might,” I confirm. “Or could you promise not to fuck up again?”
Her mouth opens, then shuts. “It’s hard, Lost. Harder than I expected. I thought as Beth had her own life now, I could leave her alone to live it. But I miss her so damn much. Ink said he wanted a baby with her. I want to be there. I can’t bear the thought that I won’t be able to help. I may not even know that I’m a grandmother.”
I have to appreciate her honesty. “But you must have expected that when you decided to go into exile with Dan,” I say, a bit harshly.
“I did,” she cries. “But it all happened so quickly. I didn’t have long to make up my mind, and Con… Dan, well he might be twenty-two and an adult, but he still needs me. The relief when I said I’d come with him was written all over his face. Beth’s five years older, and she’s got Ink. I’d feel I was abandoning him if I let him go alone. That was why I made my decision. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I had no idea exactly how difficult it was going to turn out. I miss her, Lost. Miss her terribly.”
It sounds like a tough choice. My wife and I hadn’t gotten around to starting a family. I’d been working so hard building up a business, and she, well, she’d been too busy fucking around. Literally, as I’d later found out.
Patsy turns and walks to the window. Her shoulders hunch. “You’re right, Lost. If we move again, I don’t know how I’d survive not knowing how Beth’s doing. The marshals may not help, as you say, they might move Dan on his own as he’s the one they want to keep safe.” She swings around. “I want both my children, Lost. I know I’m selfish, but I can’t make the choice. Not now I know my sanity is at stake. Beth’s not just my daughter, she’s my best friend, my confidant. I miss talking to her. Talking to Dan, well, he’s a man. It’s not the same.”
“Have you made any friends here?”
She raises and lowers her shoulders. “I haven’t exchanged more than a couple of words with the neighbours, they’re not particularly the friendly type. I thought about joining a group or something, but then I got scared. What if I forget what I can reveal, and what I can’t? If I talk about what I do, I’m sure to let slip the reason why I make clothes for taller women—that they’re for my daughter. How could I explain why I can’t see her? I can’t risk it, Lost. I’m not that good a liar.”
It sounds like a lonely life, I silently observe, not missing that her eyes are glistening. Christ, she should never have moved. She should have left Dan to atone for his sins alone or abandoned him to get into more trouble without her guiding hand. Again I think how fucked up it is for a good woman like her to be forced to choose between her son and her daughter.
Like her, I stand, walking over to the windows and look out into the night. There’s only one answer I can come up with—putting Alder in the ground. But the man’s a ghost. The feds can’t find him, so there’s probably no chance we can.
“Why is Alder so fixated on Dan?” I ask, half to myself. “What’s it matter that he’s alive? Is there something he’s not yet told the feds, something he’s keeping to himself?”
“Dan wouldn’t have held anything back,” she replies. “He wanted to keep out of jail, so he told them everything he could.”
