“I never knew you…you’ve been involved in the club for a long time,” Harley amended, ashamed at how she’d spurned her grandmother’s story when she tried to share it weeks ago.
“What good would it have done anyone if I talked about my experiences, sugar?”
“It would’ve helped–”
“Uh-uh, Harley. Don’t tell that flaming fucking lie. I shared what I did to help you, but you didn’t give a fuck. It wouldn’t have helped a motherfucker or her momma. It just would’ve been more bullshit added to that deep pit. Being in this space, knowing I almost didn’t make it out alive, still affects me. Since you turned into Super Bitch, I’ve told myself that if I had walked away and not gotten with K-P…” She forced a smile to her lips and shrugged, then sailed to her wine and gulped it down. “Then I wouldn’t have my Bailey. I wouldn’t have you and your brothers. But knowing it’s because of what happened inthis spacethat I’m watching another generation in my family suffer because of motherfucking Sharper Banks, I can’t help but question my decisions.”
“It isn’t because of Granddaddy, Lolly,” Harley said sadly. “Not with me. My misery is my own doing.”
“Your misery started because of the club, sugar. As did mine and your momma’s.” Lolly heaved in a breath and sat on the edge of Harley’s bed. “I wonder if maybe you, Bailey, and Kaleb should move here.”
Alarm raced through Harley. “What about Daddy and Lou?” And CJ, although she kept that to herself.
“What about them, baby? Your daddy’s miserable. He left Bailey and is living at the club. Not that I blame him. I would’ve left that heifer too.”
Harley rushed to her grandmother and sat next to her, bursting into tears. “Do something, please.”
“Oh, sugar.” Just like Lolly did so many times before, she settled an arm around Harley’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Their marriage might be beyond repair.”
“No, please!” Harley leaned her head against her grandmother and sobbed. “Please, help them.”
“I can’t do what your momma isn’t willing to, Harley. Does she have her own scars and trauma? She does, but that man love Bailey. He’d use everything in his power to help her, if she wanted fucking help. Nobody knows what the fuck she wants because she don’t know.”
“Maybe if she had the baby?” As much as Harley didn’t want another sister, it didn’t matter if it meant her parents wouldn’t divorce. “I’m so sorry! I swear I am. I just want to turn back the clock–”
“You can’t, Harley. What’s done is done. We can only pray for the best. Now, let’s go downstairs and help with the meal. Tomorrow, I can braid your hair if you’d like.”
Harley nodded. “Would you? I’ve missed my braids so much.”
Lolly got to her feet and held out her hand, helping Harley to stand. “You and me got a long way to go, baby. You hurt me, but I will always love you. Just know this: if you fuck over me again, I’ll love you from afar and never fucking talk to you again.”
“Okay.”
After hugging her again and kissing her cheek, Lolly took Harley’s hand and guided her out of the room.
His constantly ringing phone hurt Diesel’s head. Jana, based on the tone, but he didn’t have the energy to answer. Of all the scenarios, Aunt Meggie leaving never entered his mind. It broke his heart and sickened his soul that they’d driven her away.
Her unexpected departure also brought painful memories back to the forefront. Memories he’d ignored and refused to admit.
Memories of his father’s fuckery. Long before Theresa Rivers abandoned her family, Diesel’s father, Skylar, had been a deadbeat and a heavy drinker.
His last known address ran through Diesel’s head. When he’d discovered the location of the man he believed to be his father, he’d gone to the ramshackle place and just stared. Never having the courage to see if thatwashis father.
Even now, when memories of Skylar’s meanness rose up, Diesel empathized with him over Theresa’s desertion.
Diesel’s parents rarely talked about their ages. If they had other family, he’d never met them. He wasn’t allowed to ask questions that any kid wanted to know about their family. It was a miracle he was allowed an education. His father kept them isolated from the world, though Theresa worked her fingers to the bone to provide for them. Someone–maybe one of her coworkers or Skylar’s drinking buddies–once told Diesel his mother had given birth to him at sixteen and his father had been close to forty.
Except Theresa looked so much older and Skylar beat the shit out of Diesel for even asking the question.
Suddenly, her heartbroken sobs invaded Diesel’s mind. Over the years, she’d cried buckets for one reason or another. Skylar always called her emotional and unreasonable. She cried, he said, to have her way. She cried, he swore, because she wanted to shirk her woman’s duty of taking care of her family.
The ringing started again, invading Diesel’s misery. He tipped his head down and stared at the phone, where it lay on the desk in his bedroom.
Aunt Meggie teaching him to slow dance juxtaposed with Skylar grabbing Theresa’s hair and dragging her out of sight. One recollection was real, happy, him as a sixteen-year-old preparing for prom. The other might’ve been a figment of hisimagination since the self he saw was a child, no older than six and screaming for his mother.
He closed his eyes, then hurriedly opened them again, unable to bear the image of Aunt Meggie the night she came home from the hospital after Uncle Christopher’s stunning breakdown.
Still, Dieselneverexpected her to leave. Since he’d been brought into the Caldwell family, she was the one constant, a steadying hand, a gorgeous woman with a beautiful soul and a will of iron.
