Gonzo (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 7) Read online

  Gonzo had brought five pounds of bacon and two pounds of sausage, and I wondered who he thought he was feeding. It turns out, he was feeding himself because he let the kids and I get what we wanted and then he ate the rest. I made double the pancakes I usually make, and once he was sure we had all we wanted, he wiped those out, too.

  When we were finally all in the car and on our way, Gonzo informed me he wasn’t happy with our footwear and he was taking us to an outdoors store for boots before we went to the woods. He also insisted on paying for them — nearly five hundred dollars for three pairs of boots — and my mouth fell open when he opened his wallet and paid in cash. Who keeps that kind of money in their wallet?

  My subconscious reminded me, criminals have that kind of cash on them. It was like having cold water thrown on me, but I reminded myself you can’t choose your family. Sandy was family and — like it or not — she’d brought him into the family.

  I wondered if the boots on my feet were bought with blood money, but as soon as I had the thought I set it aside as overly dramatic. I didn’t know what the club might do to make so much money but I was fairly certain they didn’t make it by killing people. One of the reasons I’d decided to approach Gonzo was because I realized how much the RTMC does for charity, after all.

  He’d wanted to take his car, and told me he’s a really bad passenger, and pointed out he knew where we were going and I didn’t. Since car seats are such a pain to get in and out of vehicles I’d suggested he drive my car. The kids like to buckle themselves in, but I always make sure the straps aren’t twisted and everything’s secure. I noted he did the same thing with Chloe on the other side of the car without my having to explain a thing. He then walked around and checked Declan before taking the driver’s seat.

  I was a little put out. I mean, I’ve kept them alive this long, but the mother bear part of me liked that he wanted to be sure they’re safe.

  He sang silly songs with the kids until they fell asleep, and then he asked me about the car seats. “I used Britax years ago because they were supposed to be the best. I’ve never heard of Recaro.”

  “They make seats for Nascar, and use the same materials and same technology for their children’s car seats. If you go online there are people who say Britax seats are the safest, and others who are adamant Recaro makes the safest seats, and each side is quite passionate about their choice. I’m a scientist, so I found data I could study — hard facts about how they held up in crash tests.”

  “And I wholeheartedly approve of the thought and time you’ve put into keeping them safe. I’ll get some Recaro seats for my car.” He glanced at me and looked back at the road. “Thanks for the save this morning. I was scrambling for an answer.”

  “At this age it isn’t too hard to maneuver their attention where you want, but those are questions you’ll one day have to answer. At some point they’re going to know how babies are made and they’re going to figure out the truth, or something close to it.”

  He kept his eyes on the road this time. “I know. I hated having to tell them they were an accident, but I also know I can’t lie to them or it’ll bite me in the ass later.”

  I looked into the back seat again to be sure they were still sleeping soundly, and then faced forward again before I got carsick. “My dad does best in the basement apartment because he’s so rigid with his schedule, and it works for him to have his own little kitchen downstairs so he can keep to his god-awful timetables without us bothering him, or him disturbing our routine. You seem to be trying to work your schedule to ours, though, so I wonder if perhaps you shouldn’t stay in one of the guest bedrooms upstairs.”

  In truth, the kids had gone into the apartment with him this morning before breakfast and I’d felt as if I might intrude by going into the personal space I’d given him.

  He reached for my hand, held it a few seconds while he stroked the back of my hand with his thumb, and then let go. “Thank you. I’ve told you from the beginning I know kids need familiarity and routine. I don’t want to disrupt their lives. I’ll become familiar to them within their routine, and then maybe we’ll slowly adjust their routine to bring me into their lives more. I’d like to take them shopping in a few weeks so they can pick out bedroom furniture so they’ll have rooms at my house. I’m going to have a door put between two of the bedrooms so they’ll still be connected, even though it’s two rooms.”

  My stomach did a somersault and dread hit me as I said, “You want them to have their own rooms at your house?”

  “I want them to spend the night some, yes. If you want to stay the first couple of times I’m okay with that, and if they freak and want you the first time we try it solo then perhaps we’ll try Skyping you first, and if that doesn’t work then I can either bring them home or you can come to us.”

  “You know this is the honeymoon phase, right? They’ve wanted a daddy so bad, and they have one and they’re on their best behavior. You’re a Disney dad right now, showing up with gifts and doing fun stuff, but you don’t have to discipline them or reprimand them. The first time you do, you have to know things will be different.”

  “Of course I do. Parenting is about teaching and molding, it isn’t about being their friend. I put my foot down about bedtime last night and it worked out okay. I know how it feels when your child is mad at you, but I’ll love them enough to piss them off because I’d rather they learn discipline and self-control at an early age from me than have to learn it the hard way when they’re a teen or young adult.” He sighed. “I’m loving this time I have with them now, but it hurts me to know I’m really no more than a visitor. I still have to earn that daddy title. I know I do.”

  Darn, could he have possibly answered that question any better? “Okay, two weekends from now you can take them shopping, and when the furniture arrives and is all set up, the kids and I will spend the night at your house. How many guest rooms do you have?”

  “Right now I have one guest room and an office, which will be turned into two children’s bedrooms. I’ll sleep on the sofa and you can take my bed. I’ll even change the sheets for you.”

  I felt something warm inside at the thoughts of sleeping in his bed, and it mortified me. “No, I can sleep on your sofa. I don’t want to put you out.”

  “Nonsense. You’ll sleep in my bed. If you don’t want to put me out then I’ll sleep there, too.”

  The warm feeling came back and I turned the air conditioner up. “Absolutely not.”

  “Hey, I told you we’ll keep things to friends, Connie. It’s possible to sleep in the same bed without having sex.”

  “For you? I doubt it.” My face flamed hot as the last two words left my mouth. I never speak without thinking about it first, but it’d just popped out before I realized I was saying it aloud. “Oh God, I’m sorry. Please forget I said that.”

  Instead of being mad, he chuckled. “Okay, so I’ll admit it hasn’t happened in years, but I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

  What did I want him to do? I liked it when he touched my hand and I’d never really understood why people did that, before. The same with his hugs — I’d always felt smothered when people surrounded me with their arms, but he made me feel safe.

  “No pressure, Connie. You’re overthinking this. I sleep on the ground in the woods, often without even a tent. I won’t mind my sofa.”

  When we finally arrived and parked, we each woke a child and took them to a picnic area for some juice and raisins. I could hear the falls in the distance, but had no idea they’d be so close. My first view of them from the overlook had me in awe, and it seemed the kids thought so, too.

  And he’d been right about the kids on the trail. They were like little mountain goats, while Gonzo held my hand and kept me from sliding several times. He was as surefooted as the twins, and now I felt like the odd man out. I called them back several times, but finally Gonzo stood me beside a tree I could hold onto, and called the twins to him. He once again squatted so
he was on their level, and told them, “There are bears, snakes, and other things that could hurt you.” He pointed to a vine on another tree. “That’s poison ivy, see the three leaves? You think, ‘leaves of three, leave them be,’ and you don’t touch it or it’ll give you itchy blisters that hurt something awful and spread all over your arms. How can I teach you these things if you aren’t close? I need to teach you not to step over a log without making sure a snake isn’t under or around it, I need to teach you about trail blazes, and a hundred other things. When we get to the splash pool you’ll be able to rock hop and run around a little, but you’re going to have to stay with us on the trail.”

  “Don’t be mean, Daddy,” said little Chloe as her eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m not being mean, baby. I need to teach you how to be safe in the woods. What if you were around a corner and didn’t know to look for a snake, and one bit you? You have to stay close so I can look out for things that could hurt you.”

  He hugged her and then Declan, and stood. “You aren’t in trouble now, so wipe your tears. If you get ahead of us again though, you will be.”

  “What’ll happen if we get in trouble?” asked Declan.

  I wanted to speak up, but I let Gonzo handle it.

  “If both of you are in trouble then you’ll sit on opposite sides of the trail facing away from each other in timeout. If it’s only one of you then you’ll sit in time out facing away from us while I play games in the dirt with whoever isn’t in trouble.”

  “Games in the dirt?”

  He found a stick, squatted again, and drew a tic-tac-toe grid. “Yeah, games in the dirt.”

  “Cool!” they both said in unison, and he chuckled and stood as he reached for my hand. “Okay, see the great big tree on the right of the trail ahead of us? You can both run ahead of us to it, stand with your toes touching it, and look up.”

  He did this the rest of the way into the canyon, moving them from tree to bush to rock, and there was a lesson at each stop. The twins ate it up, and they were always in our sight, always exactly where he wanted them. He also taught me how to set my feet down to keep from sliding, when to choose a rock for my next step and when to choose dirt instead. Even the angle I set my foot on a steep part of the trail made a difference.

  And he was so patient with all of us.

  At first, I was self-conscious just holding his hand, but after he’d had his arms around me several times to catch me when I almost fell, I could handle it when he held my hand in one of his while he steadied me around my waist with another. No one had ever touched me like him — like he had a right to. Like it was no big deal.

  It was a colossal deal to me, but I tried to make it seem normal. I’m not sure I managed, though.

  When we finally reached the splash pool and were up close and personal to the roaring water as it fell, he sat the three of us on a large rock and ordered the twins to sit still while he showed them something. He stepped on a rock barely peeking out of the water, then another, and another, until he made it to some bigger rocks he could climb on. He walked from boulder to boulder as if it were nothing, and then he came back and told the twins, “You need to learn some things before you can try it, and I’ll hold your hand until you get the hang of it, so only one of you can go at a time. I’m going to carry both of you right now, though, so I can teach you about moss and lichen and how they can make rocks really slick, and about how to tell if a rock is wet or dry, and how to guess if it might be slick or not before you step on it.”

  He put a twin on each hip and made his way across the same path. I could hear him talking but couldn’t tell what he said. I should’ve been terrified he’d fall with them on his hips, but somehow I just knew he wouldn’t do this if he weren’t sure about it.

  I have no idea how he got them to agree who’d go first, but Chloe sat with me and told me all about moss and lichen, and rough stone versus smooth, while Gonzo helped his son walk across the rocks. Declan sat on a boulder while Gonzo came to get Chloe, and my heart stopped beating when he kissed my forehead and told me to stay put so he could keep an eye on me, too.

  I didn’t respond because I couldn’t, but I noted that as he helped Chloe he was also watching Declan and me. The instant Declan went to stand, Gonzo turned and said something to him, and Declan sat right back down.

  I laughed as he took a kid in each hand and walked them across the boulders, but then wondered what he was up to as he sat them where he’d put Declan before, and walked back to me.

  “There are some people coming into the canyon and I didn’t know if you’d want to sit here alone without us close. I can carry you out there, so you don’t have to try to walk across, if you’d like.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be okay here. I’m taking pictures, so they’ll know I’m with you.”

  “Okay, the falls are loud but the twins and I will hear if you shout. I’ll keep a close eye on you, too. Let us know if you need us, okay?”

  I nodded and watched him go back to his children.

  Chapter 10

  Gonzo

  Connie was in good physical shape, but she was a city girl in every sense of the word. She didn’t get out of breath climbing out of the canyon, but I could tell she was using muscles she wasn’t used to straining and I knew she’d be sore tomorrow.

  The kids were slowing down, and I took turns carrying them so they could rest a little while I used my other hand to help Connie. Going up is easier than coming down, so she didn’t need as much help from me but still needed my assistance to keep from falling on a few of the steeper parts. When we reached the car I had everyone put their dirty boots into plastic bags I’d brought, and we all put our shoes on.

  Chloe informed me yet again she was hungry, and I told her once more, “I’m taking ya’ll to a little diner up on the mountain for lunch. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Drink your water so you can rehydrate.”

  She threw her water bottle on the ground, stomped her foot, and said, “I don’t want water, I want food!”

  “Wow, I thought you were four, but that was a very impressive two-year-old tantrum.” I squatted down to her level and used my calmest voice to tell her, “If you want to be treated like a two-year-old, I can arrange for that to happen. If you want to be treated like a four-year-old then retrieve your water bottle, get in your car seat, and buckle up so we can go eat.”

  She stomped her foot again and said, “I’m hungry now. I don’t want water.”

  They’d had crackers while we were at the falls. She wasn’t going to starve in the next ten or fifteen minutes, and at this point no way was I going to reward bad behavior by giving in. I picked her up and carried her twenty yards to a picnic table, and sat her on a bench. To be honest, I’d have popped Clara on the behind for this behavior, but I instinctively knew Connie wouldn’t approve, and at this point I had to follow her lead.

  Also, while I appreciated her stepping back and letting me handle this, I also understood she was… what? Letting me be the bad guy who had to discipline them? Giving me a chance to fail? Testing me to see how I handle them so she’d feel better about leaving them alone with me?

  Or, perhaps all of the above.

  “You won’t get anything to eat until we get to the restaurant. I will never, ever give you what you demand in a temper tantrum, and the sooner you learn that, the easier things will be. I need for you to apologize for throwing a tantrum and then we can go. You won’t get food until we get there, so the sooner you apologize, the sooner you eat.”

  I stepped away from her and picked up a few sticks until I found one I thought would make for good whittling, and then I pulled out my pocketknife and started whittling.

  Finally, truly contrite tears fell and she said, “I’m sorry for throwing a tantrum, Daddy.”

  I tossed the stick away and pocketed my knife as I went to her and picked her up to give her a big hug. “Thank you for apologizing, Chloe. I love you very much and I’m very proud of you.”
/>   I carried her back to the car in my arms, both twins buckled up, and I gave Chloe her water bottle before double-checking her straps while Connie did the same with Declan.

  When we were seated at the restaurant, I told our waitress we needed our bread as quickly as possible because my daughter had informed us she was starving, and we had bread less than a minute later. Chloe gave me a huge smile, and I felt like we’d survived our first true discipline issue.

  We were in a booth, and Connie had put Declan and I one side, while she and Chloe were on the other. I had the distinct impression Connie’d had all of the close contact she could handle for a while, and needed distance.

  I had no idea why I was trying to get her used to me. It wasn’t like a relationship could possibly work between us, and trying for one would just mean bad things for the kids.

  God, they were screwed up enough with a father who hadn’t even known their mother’s last name, or where she lived, or anything about her when they were conceived — or even the fact they’d been conceived. Imagine their dad also being their uncle… because isn’t your aunt’s husband your uncle? Which would also make their step-mom their aunt?

  Right. Not going to happen.

  And yet, I kept finding reasons to touch her.

  Dinner went well, though Connie grabbed the check and paid despite my protests. I’d already been bothered because we’d used her gas.

  But then, she hadn’t been happy about me paying for the boots.

  The kids were asleep before we’d travelled three miles, and while I was trying to figure out a tactful way to bring up who’ll pay for what, Connie said, “Bartenders and bouncers don’t have the kind of money you have. I’m not comfortable eating food or wearing boots bought with money obtained through criminal means.”

  So much for trying to be tactful.

  A lie is best hidden between two truths, and I was about to tell her the first out and out lie sandwiched between a whole bunch of truths. I wished I could be honest with her, but common sense told me I was going to have to fabricate a story she’d be comfortable with. I should’ve just told her the MC only has our three legitimate businesses and there’s nothing more, but for some reason I’d felt the need to be honest.