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  His eyes sparkle for a moment and I think he’s going to bite, but then he opens his mouth and says, “I’m not ready for that yet.” He leans against the bar, taking a small swig of beer. “I have a lot of miles left to travel and a lot of unfinished business to clear off my plate before I can settle down in a small town and grow old.”

  “When you’re ready, I’ll have a place for you,” I promise him, wanting him to know he always has an out if he wants it.

  But Eagle is a lifer.

  His father was in the brotherhood until he took his last breath, and Eagle has wanted nothing more than to follow in his footsteps.

  “I appreciate that. If I change my mind, you’ll be the first one to know.”

  “Yo, Mammoth!” Morris calls out across the room from the entrance. “Get your ass over here.”

  I roll my eyes at Eagle, who chuckles with a shrug. “What the hell does he want now?” I grumble.

  “Fuck if I know.”

  “Goddamn it. Why me?” I ask, setting down my beer on the bar before heading toward Morris.

  Morris has his arms folded in front of his chest, shoulders pushed back, a pinched expression on his face. “I don’t know why all your broads feel like they can just show up here unannounced.”

  My gaze moves toward the open door behind him. “Tam’s here?”

  Morris shakes his head. “A different one.”

  I furrow my brows, knowing there’s no other broad in my life except Tamara. “Different?” I stop walking, moving my eyes back to Morris.

  He nods, shrugging a shoulder. “Fuckin’ pussy magnet. I’ll never understand it.”

  As I start walking toward him again, he backs away from the door, making room for me. “You need to get a better handle on your bitches,” he tells me. “Remind them who’s boss.”

  I step toward the doorway, ignoring his asshole comment.

  The woman’s head is bowed as she stares at the cement underneath her feet, hearing our entire conversation.

  My heart stops when I see the soft wave of her brown hair and her tiny frame. It’s been years since I’ve laid eyes on her, but she’s unmistakable.

  “Mom?”

  7

  Mammoth

  “I didn’t know where else to go,” Mom says, her eyes filled with tears as she peers up at me.

  My chest burns and my stomach tightens as I pull her into my arms without a second thought. “What happened? Whatever it is, I’ll help.”

  “I can’t…” she whispers, not finishing the statement as her fingers curl into the soft cotton of my T-shirt. “It’s nothing. Really. I shouldn’t have come here.” She starts to push herself away. “I hate to be a bother.”

  I pull back, tipping my head down, forcing her to look at me like she used to do when I was a kid, as I tighten my grip on her. “This isn’t nothing, Ma, and we’re going to talk about whatever this is,” I tell her, moving her inside the compound’s main room and closing the door. “You’re never a bother. You’re my mother, and I love you.”

  Her eyes widen as her gaze moves across the room. The naked bodies. The drunken men. The bar slash strip club atmosphere only a biker clubhouse in the evening can have.

  “JD,” she whispers, her body stiffening. “This is where you live?” Mom has never been one to judge, but I can hear it in her tone. She’s judging, and I’m guilty as hell too.

  I know how it looks.

  I know what she’s thinking without her saying the words.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks, Ma. I swear. You just caught us on a bad night,” I reassure her, lying my ass off because it’s exactly how it looks, no matter how much I want to deny it.

  She blinks as she gazes up at me in disbelief. “Not as bad as it looks?” she asks softly. “There’re naked women everywhere.”

  I smile, biting back my laughter because I’m not about to give my mom lip, especially since she came here because she needed something. “Let’s go to my room and talk. Away from all this sin.”

  She nods, placing her hand in mine before I pull her toward the hallway near the back. She nearly trips a few times, too busy gawking at the people around us instead of looking where she’s walking.

  I don’t stop moving until we’re at my door, and I fish a key from my pocket.

  “Why do you lock your door?” she asks, always full of questions. “Is it that unsafe here?”

  “I trust the guys, but not the women.”

  She sucks in a breath. “Are they here often?”

  I work on the lock, not bothering with eye contact because she’s always been able to read my face. “No, not often. Tonight is just…” I pause as I turn the knob. “Special.”

  She follows me inside, spinning around the room as she soaks in the place I’ve been living for the last six years.

  She’s never come here before. I wasn’t even sure she knew exactly where I’ve been until tonight.

  “The room is nice,” she says, but her nose is wrinkled.

  “Sit,” I tell her, moving her by the shoulders to the end of my bed before she gets us sidetracked. “We’re not leaving until you tell me everything.” I kneel before her, peering up at her and studying the small changes in her face since the last time I saw her. “Tell me what happened.”

  Her blue eyes meet mine, searching my face. “Promise me you won’t get mad.”

  I grunt, tightening my hands into fists. “I promise,” I lie.

  If I get mad, it won’t be with her. No doubt this has to do with some dumb-ass guy or one of her bitch-ass girlfriends.

  Someone did her wrong, and whoever they are, they are going to pay.

  She reaches out, pressing her palms to my face, giving me a sad smile. “You look tired, baby.”

  I place my hands over hers. “Ma, don’t change the subject. Talk to me,” I beg her again.

  Tipping her head forward, she rests her forehead against mine and closes her eyes. “I met this man a few months ago.”

  My teeth grind together, but I keep my mouth shut. She’s finally talking, and I’m not letting my anger stop her. I think I know where this is going, and I prep myself for words I don’t want to hear.

  Her blue eyes meet my gray ones with our faces only a few inches apart. “He was great. Super sweet and caring. Went out of his way to do nice things for me. He was protective and thoughtful. Everything I’d been wanting and couldn’t find in a person since your father died.”

  I blow out a breath and soften my features, knowing this isn’t easy for her. The least I can do is not scowl while she spills her guts.

  “A few weeks ago, he asked to borrow some money.” She draws in a breath and closes her eyes again like whatever she’s about to say is too painful to do while looking at me. “I told him no because it wasn’t a small amount, and even though I had feelings for him, I didn’t feel comfortable saying yes.”

  “It’s your money, Ma. You have every right to do what you want with it, including telling him no.”

  “Boyd wasn’t happy with my answer. He told me he wouldn’t have asked if it weren’t important. I still told him no and not to ask me again.”

  “Good. You stuck to your guns.”

  I was proud of her. She’d never been a pushover. Being a single mother made her stronger than most, and she never put up with anyone’s shit, not even from a man.

  “That was the first time he hit me,” she whispers.

  I see red.

  Not just red, but blood red.

  All the air evaporates from my lungs, and the burn in my chest is something I haven’t felt quite so deep for a long time. Then her words really slam into me. The first time…meaning he did it more than once, but this is the first time I’m hearing about it.

  “I will bury him.”

  Her eyes snap open, and her hands on my face tighten as she pulls her head back to look at me. “No, you will not, Josiah.”

  Her calling me by my first name doesn’t change the simple fact—he will feel a pain wor
se than he ever inflicted on my mother. No man lays a hand on a woman, especially not the one who gave birth to me. “Ma…”

  Her eyes narrow, and the tears that have started to form spill over onto her cheeks. “You will not touch him.”

  “Ma…”

  She shakes her head. “I handled him.”

  My brows furrow as I stare at her, blinking. “You handled him?” I whisper.

  She nods as she wipes at her face. “I made sure he’ll think twice before he lays a hand on another woman. That’s why I had to leave, and I couldn’t think of anywhere safe to go but to come here.”

  “You should’ve left the first time he hit you, Ma.”

  Fuck.

  She always taught me never to lay hands on a woman, but she took that blow and stayed for another.

  “I was stupid. I believed him when he apologized and said he didn’t mean to touch me. I bought the lie. I did what women do when they want to believe the best of a person even though they’re faced with the worst.”

  “At least you got away free and clear.”

  She cringes and rocks backward on the edge of my bed. “I’m on the run, baby.”

  I rock back on my heels and freeze.

  She was hit more than once.

  She took care of it herself.

  She’s on the run.

  All words I never thought I’d hear my mother say, but here she is, saying them.

  “I’ll take care of it,” I promise her.

  Her eyes widen. “It’s not an easy fix. You know small towns. He has friends on the city council. The entire police force is looking for me.”

  I grunt. Small-town police forces are a joke. They are easily bought, and I have enough money to probably buy them all. “I already told you, I’ll take care of it, Ma.”

  “But I…” She pauses and runs her small fingers across her forehead. “I…”

  “Tell me what happened,” I ask softly.

  “The last time he hit me—” She stops again and grimaces.

  She just said the last time he hit her, but she didn’t say the second time. That means this shit was going on for a while, and yet she never called me to clue me in. She should’ve left after the first time or at least made a phone call, telling me what was happening so I could make sure he never touched her, or any woman, ever again.

  “The last time he hit me, I went into the garage while he was sleeping and grabbed the sledgehammer.”

  This isn’t going anywhere pretty, but I already have a sense of pride bubbling deep inside me. No one grabs a sledgehammer unless they plan to use it. The weight and force of something so big is not a match for the frailty of the human body.

  “I walked into the house, tiptoeing into the living room where he was lying on the couch, and I lifted the hammer as high as I could before I brought that bitch down on the arm he used to strike me.”

  Somehow, I don’t move a muscle, keeping my face impartial and not trying to seem as shocked as I feel. “He deserved that and worse.”

  She nods with a small smile, the first glimmer of radiance coming off her. A sliver of the Ma I saw last time I laid eyes on her. “I’m not a violent person, Josiah. You know this, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t see another way out. I had to make it impossible for him to hit me again.”

  “You did that,” I say with a hint of laughter.

  Mom literally brought down the hammer on the asshole.

  “I never saw a man scream the way he did. There was so much blood, baby. So much blood.” Her face pales as she stares at the door behind me, unable to make eye contact. “And the sound. Oh my God. The sound bone makes when it breaks is the most horrific… And then when it tore through his skin…” She pales.

  “Ma,” I say, bringing her back to the here and now instead of staying in her memories. “You’re here. You’re safe. And you did the right thing.”

  “I have a lot of forgiveness to ask for and prayers to say. I don’t think there’s enough penance to make up for my actions this time, sweetheart.”

  I shake my head, gripping her hands with mine. “He’s the one who needs to ask for forgiveness, Ma, not you. You were protecting yourself. Plain as that.”

  “He was sleeping,” she whispers.

  “Did he hit you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he deserved it. I don’t care what the hell he was doing when you hit him, you did the right thing.”

  “So, now…” She sighs, hanging her head. “I’m on the run with a warrant out for my arrest.” She squirms as she says the words, and the lines in her face deepen. “You were the first person to pop in my head, and I figured this was probably the one place the cops wouldn’t be looking for me.”

  “You did the right thing coming here.” I climb to my feet, releasing her hand as I do. “The club will protect you, and you can stay here.” But fuck, this adds another layer of complication I hadn’t anticipated, just when I was ready to leave.

  She tips her head back, gawking at me as her brown hair spills down her back. “You want me to stay here?”

  I nod, rubbing the back of my neck. “No safer place to be when the law is looking for you.”

  “But…”

  I shake my head, putting my hand out in front of me. “It’s not up for discussion.”

  She snaps her mouth shut, eyes going wide. I’ve never talked to her this way, and it shows in the shock on her face.

  “You’re staying here. If you need something, one of the guys will get it. But for the time being, until I can get shit sorted, you do not go outside the gates.”

  Her nose scrunches. “I can’t stay here with those—” she waves her hand toward the door “—naked people,” she whispers.

  “The women don’t live here. They come and go. The guys are going to keep your ass out of jail and alive, Ma. I want no lip.”

  Her head jerks back, and her eyes flash with anger. “I think you forget who the parent is here, Josiah.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. You came to me for help, and I’m doing that.” I move toward the door and open it, finding Eagle walking down the hallway. “Grab Morris, will ya?”

  “Sure thing, brother. Everything okay in there?” He tries to look over my shoulder, knowing damn well there’s a woman in my room.

  I’m sure word has already spread that she’s my mother. I can see questions swimming through his brain. Ones he won’t ask and shit I don’t have time to answer right now.

  “Everything’s fine. Just get him,” I bark.

  Eagle gives me a nod before stalking toward the common room, keeping all his questions to himself.

  “Who’s Morris?” Ma asks, fidgeting with the hem of her dress near her knees.

  “He’s the one who answered the door.”

  “Oh,” she whispers, gazing down. “He seemed…nice. Is he your boss?”

  “He’s the club’s VP.”

  “So, I take it he’s kind of a big deal, then?”

  I laugh softly, loving her naïveté about motorcycle clubs. “He is a big deal, but don’t ever tell him I said that.”

  “Heard that shit. Never forgetting it,” Morris says as he comes through the doorway to my bedroom without even so much as a knock. “No taking it back.”

  I sigh, growling under my breath. “Close the door,” I tell him as he stands there, his gaze moving from me to my mother.

  He does as I ask without a smartass response before crossing his arms, looking mean as hell and curious as ever, leaning against the wall.

  “Morris.” I wave my hand toward my mother, who’s still sitting on the bed and looking at him with the widest eyes. “This is my mother, Jessica.”

  “Ma’am,” he says, unfolding those burly arms to rub the back of his neck. “Nice to formally meet you.”

  “You too,” she whispers, the deer in headlights look still firmly planted on her face. “Sir.”

  Morris’s lips twitch at that comment, and by the way he’s looking at Mom, I already wan
t to claw his eyes out. “Morris, please.”

  “Now that the introductions are out of the way, Morris, I need your help. She needs your help.”

  “You know I always got your back, brother. Your mom’s too, for that matter.”

  “I’m wanted by the cops,” she blurts out.

  “Interesting,” he mumbles, moving toward her and then pacing between us. “Misdemeanor?”

  “Felony,” she tells him.

  His eyes widen, and then his face softens a second later. “That’s some pretty heavy shit for a little thing like you.”

  She nods, watching him as he starts to pace. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  I stare at her, trying to hold back my laughter at her statement because grabbing a sledgehammer and using it on a man is no accident. My mom has always had the patience of a saint, but everybody has a breaking point, even her.

  “Do you mind me asking what happened?” he says as he comes to a stop in front of her, ignoring me.

  She nods. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  He bends forward and takes a knee a few feet away from her, studying her face. “How deep are you, sugar?”

  “Sugar?” she whispers and blushes.

  I roll my eyes and growl. Is he really hitting on my mother while I’m standing there watching? That shit is never going to happen as long as I’m still breathing.

  Morris peers over his shoulder, drawing his bushy eyebrows down, telling me in his subtle way to calm my shit and keep my mouth shut.

  I take a seat across the room as I let him continue, but in no way am I leaving. “Go on,” I tell him when he doesn’t give his attention back to her.

  “Mr. Morris, I really didn’t mean to do it,” she whispers, propping her elbows on her knees and dropping her cheeks to her palms. “I’ve made a mess of everything.”

  “We’ll clean it up. Tell me whatever you feel comfortable with, and I’ll find out the rest on my own,” he says softly, almost comforting her.

  I knew he was the one to call in here. Morris is tough and can be the biggest asshole in the world, but I know women are his weakness. He shows as much with Gigi and Tamara. He loves those girls and makes sure no one lays a hand on them or gets out of line when they are around.