Banger's Ride: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 5) (16 page)

A sob she’d been holding in since the whole incident began finally escaped. He tugged her to him and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and tight as her body heaved up and down. They stood like that for several minutes, and all the stress and bitterness she’d been holding in for a long time seeped out of her. Being in Banger’s arms, his hand rubbing her back, her face buried in his shoulder, gave her more comfort than she’d known since even before her husband died. As he held her, she felt as though everything would be okay.

Finally, she pulled away and grabbed a few tissues from the box on the table in the foyer. After blowing her nose, she said, “Thanks for helping me through my meltdown. I’m ashamed you had to see all the family drama.”

“No need to thank me or be embarrassed. Families got all kinds of shit goin’ on. The key is to get a handle on it.” He locked eyes with her. “You know I’m here for you. Never hesitate to ask. You gonna be okay?”

She nodded. “I think it’s best if you go. I hope you understand.”

“I get it, but if you have problems with
her,
you call me. Got it?”

“Okay.” She leaned in to him and kissed him deeply, breathing in his scent, wishing he could stay the night. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep snugly in his arms.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She tilted her chin then he left. Despite the frigid night air, Belle stood on the porch watching Banger’s SUV fade into the hazy darkness. Emptiness seized her and with a sigh, she closed the front door.

B
anger couldn’t get
Belle out of his mind. He was all kinds of messed up about her, and he wanted to give whatever they had a chance. All he knew was that when he was with Belle, the hole, which had been in his heart since Grace died, was not so empty anymore. He liked being with her, and even though she had some major shit going on with her daughter, she always had a smile on her face.

Fuck, her daughter is out of line. The bitch needs to be taught respect.
Banger couldn’t believe the way she’d yelled at her mom, and she would’ve hit her if he hadn’t been there to stop it.
Fuck that shit!
He knew it wasn’t his place to intervene in family matters, but if she had struck Belle, he would’ve gone ballistic. He couldn’t imagine kids hitting their parents. Where he came from, that shit didn’t happen. His mom had been the long-suffering wife of the cruel sonofabitch who was his father. Banger’s dad didn’t use his fists on his wife, only his words and his sick games, like openly flaunting his whores in front of her.

Banger remembered one morning when he’d been about seven years old, waking up to the strong scent of cheap perfume. It hadn’t smelled like his mother, and when he’d open his sleepy eyes, he’d seen a heavily made-up woman looking down on him. It had scared the shit out of him, and he’d thought it was the Fifty-Foot Woman from the sci-fi movie he, his brother, and two sisters had watched with their mom the night before. He’d thrown the covers over his eyes only to have them pulled back down by the woman. She had on a real tight dress and a ton of silver and gold chains around her neck and wrists. She’d asked him if he was Big Ray’s son. He’d nodded. She’d laughed huskily then coughed, spit falling on him. She’d sounded like his grandpa Bill who’d wheezed and coughed as he’d smoked his cigarettes while his grandma yelled at him to stop his goddamned smoking or he’d die.

Before he could have said anything else, the door had banged open and his dad filled the doorway, his figure tall and menacing. He’d glared at the woman then at his son. He’d asked her what the fuck she was doing in the room, and if she preferred small peckers to his big, throbbing one. Then his dad had cupped his pants, and a deep, throaty laugh passed through the woman’s lips. She’d walked over to his dad and rubbed her body against his while she put her hand over his big dick. Banger had closed his eyes, and he heard his dad laugh. Soon, the laugh had given way to moans and groans. When he’d peeked through his squinted eyes, he saw the woman kneeling in front of his dad, doing something to him, something which must have been good because his dad had a big grin on his face as the woman’s head moved back and forth quickly. Then his dad had groaned and yelled, “Fuck!”

At that moment, he’d heard his mother say, “In front of your son, you bastard.”

“Better he learn what women are good for at a young age. Ain’t that right, boy?”

Banger had pretended to be asleep, but he knew his dad, mom, and the strange woman knew he was awake.

Later that morning, Banger and his siblings had sat at the breakfast table along with his dad and the heavily made-up woman while his mother ran about fussing with the breakfast, catering to all of them like she was the servant and the woman stinking of cheap perfume was the lady of the house.

The incident had been burned in his mind and, years later, after one of his more severe beatings from his dad, Banger had realized how fucked up his family was. His father liked to impose corporal punishment on his two sons, but he’d never laid a finger on his daughters or his wife. To Banger, it seemed like he made up for all his frustrations on the boys.

When he had turned fifteen, and his dad took out his belt for the thousandth time, Banger had grabbed the buckle before it hit his back. It had been the first time he’d stood up to his dad. Shock registered in his old man’s eyes, then anger. Banger had met his dad’s stare, only Banger’s had reflected cold rage. His father had backed down, and he’d never touched him again. A year later, Banger left and found himself at the Insurgents’ clubhouse.

Even with all the hate he’d felt for his father, he’d never once struck him. He would never have thought of hitting the sonofabitch unless he’d tried to beat his mother or sisters. Belle’s daughter had thought nothing of raising her hand to strike her mother. Belle hadn’t hit her daughter or physically threatened her; all she’d done was told Emily she was grounded. He shook his head. That was all kinds of fucked. He wanted to help, but he knew it was something he couldn’t get involved in unless Belle asked. This shit they had was between them.

His phone pinged and he looked down at it, a rush of joy shooting through him.

Kylie:
I’m on my way to PWS with a couple of friends. Will be there in an hr.

Banger:
Great surprise. Can’t wait to see you.

Kylie:
Me too. Will talk soon. :)

Banger couldn’t wait to see his daughter, who hadn’t been home since Christmas break. Nerves gripped his stomach when he wondered what Kylie would think when she walked in the house and saw a lot of the photographs of Grace put away. He hadn’t told her about Belle because he wasn’t even sure how he felt about the curvy cook, and he didn’t want to say too much to his daughter if things didn’t turn out. Banger was sure that Kylie wouldn’t be too happy to see the changes he’d made in the house, but he’d talk to her, try to explain that he had to move forward. That it was what Grace had wanted.

An hour later, Banger could hear the pulsing base from one of the heavy metal CDs Kylie always listened to in her car. She had grown up surrounded by music from Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, Megadeth, Scorpions, and a whole slew of other bands. She really hadn’t had a choice, since she had been born to parents who were major headbangers. Instead of rebelling when she became a teenager by choosing something different, she embraced all the music her parents loved, and it had become her favorite as well.

Banger walked into the garage, a big smile on his face, and went over to hug his daughter. Kylie wrapped her arms around her dad’s neck and gave him a big kiss on his cheek. “Hi, Dad.” She pushed back and scanned his face. “You’re good. You look more relaxed than I’ve seen you in a long time. Did you start meditating like I suggested?”

“Nope. I’m just finding some time to take it easy. You know, enjoying some things that I haven’t done in a long time.”

“Really? Like what?”

“We’ll talk about it later. It’s damn cold in this garage, let’s get inside.” Turning to look at the other two girls climbing out of Kylie’s car, he said, “I’m Banger.”

Kylie introduced her friends to her dad, and he grabbed their luggage and showed them into the house. When they went into the family room, he heard Kylie gasp. He kept walking to the guest room and put the suitcases on the floor.

“Dad? What happened to all the photographs of Mom?”

Banger shuffled into the family room and came up behind his daughter. “There are still pictures of your mother in here.”

“Yeah, like three. What happened to the others?”

“I put them away,” he said softly.

“Why?” Surprise and hurt were etched on her face.

“Because it’s time for me to start living again. Your mom would’ve wanted it.”

Kylie pursed her lips together and crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s a reason why you did this. I was just here Christmas and everything was the same, and now it’s all different. I don’t believe for one minute that you woke up one day and decided you wanted to start living again. What do you think you’ve been doing for the last six years? You’ve been here breathing, partying at the club, going to Sturgis, and a bunch of other stuff too. Mom’s the one who’s not here. You’ve been doing plenty of living, and you just decided
now
to put away Mom’s pictures?”

Banger clenched his jaw. “You’re away at school, you’re young, and you got your own life to live. I’m the one left here in the house, and it’s just time for me to move forward.” He put his arm around her shoulders, but she twisted away. “Kylie, don’t be that way.”

Kylie’s friends had just come in, and she grabbed their hands and said, “Let’s go.” She swiveled around and rushed toward the back door.

“Where you going?”

“To the clubhouse.” Then she slammed the door.

Banger stood in the family room listening to Kylie rev the motor of her car before she peeled out of the garage and zoomed off. He knew she’d be upset and in retrospect, he probably should’ve told her about the changes he was making. Maybe he should’ve mentioned that he’d been seeing Belle, but he didn’t want to go there yet because he knew Kylie would be upset. What was the point in stressing her about something if it were going nowhere?

He sighed and walked out of the room.

*     *     *

When Banger walked
into the clubhouse a couple hours later, he saw Kylie seated on the barstool. Her legs crossed, she was laughing and leaning in to Jerry, who had a hungry look in his eyes as he stared at her. Banger’s muscles twitched and he clenched his fists as the boiling anger burned in the pit of his stomach. He yelled, “Why the fuck are you talkin’ to my daughter?”

Jerry jumped back and rushed away, and Kylie narrowed her eyes. “What is your problem, Dad? I’ve known these guys since I was a kid. You telling me I can’t talk to them anymore?”

Banger walked up to her. “I’m not saying you can’t talk to Hawk, Bear, Throttle, or some of the other older brothers. You’ve know them since you were a kid. Jerry and the younger ones, you haven’t known them for that long. Anyway, I don’t like the way he was looking at you. You stay away from him. You got that?”

“Aren’t you being a hypocrite? You’re telling me I can’t talk to Jerry or some of the younger brothers, but you can freely hang with the club whores and the hoodrats?”

In his steely voice, Banger said, “That’s different. You’ve become a real smartass since you went away to college. How would you like for me to drag your ass back home to learn some manners again? You don’t tell
me
what the fuck I can do. I tell
you
what the fuck
you
can do. And I’m saying you don’t hang with Jerry. This is not open for discussion.”

Kylie blinked hard. “I’m sorry, Dad. I was out of line. Jerry and I just talk when I come into the club, it’s no big deal. I guess it took me by surprise that Mom’s pictures are gone. It makes me sad and angry.” Kylie looked down at her hands in her lap.

Banger placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m not worried about you, okay? I just don’t like the way Jerry looks at you. Remember, I know how bikers are. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about putting some of the pictures away before you came up. I know you’re angry, and that’s okay. I know you’re sad, but you have to respect that I need to do this in order to move forward. Your mom wanted me to do this, but I couldn’t for such a long time.”

Kylie leaned against her dad, laid her head on his shoulder, and wrapped her arm around his waist. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, then said, “Go grab your friends. I’m taking you out to dinner at the burger joint. Go on now, it’s all good.”

*     *     *