Gonzo (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 7) (8 page)

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.

G
onzo

C
onnie 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.

“Remember when I told you I sold everything I owned and began hiking the AT?”

“Yes.”

“I sold the house for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars more than the mortgage. I hit the housing market just right without meaning to, and over the years I’ve grown that money through investments. You met Brain — he’s my advisor and he’s about four levels beyond a genius. Also, I’m part owner of the bar, the bike shop, the gun store, and the shooting range. I make an hourly wage plus I get a substantial quarterly check because our businesses are very profitable. You look at me and see a bouncer and a biker, but that’s okay because it’s what you’re supposed to see. I think society and it’s prissy-assed rules about what’s acceptable and what isn’t is fucked up, and society looks at me and sees a loser. I’m happier than almost every civilian I know, so who’s the loser?”

“Civilian?”

“Anyone who isn’t part of the biker world.”

“Means something different to my dad.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. Apology accepted. You’ll let me pay for meals when we eat out from now on. I’m not going to insist on a whole lot, but I need you to give me this one.”

“Because you’re the man and are supposed to be the provider?”

I’m not stupid, I saw the flashing danger sign. “You’ve provided for my kids so far beyond what you had to, and I’m truly grateful you’re in their life. You’re a
great
provider, Connie, but I’m not great at being provided for. Please let me pay for meals when we eat out together.”

“You’re slick, I’ll give you that.”

Time to change the subject. “Most people are out of breath climbing out of that canyon. What do you do to work out?”

“I have a workout room downstairs, and I run on the treadmill and use the weight machine before I wake the kids in the morning.”

“Every morning?”

“Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I do yoga on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, but don’t work out on Sundays.”

“How religious are you?” It was a potentially dangerous conversation, but I needed to know and she’d opened the door.

“Oh, I don’t take the day off because it’s the Lord’s Day or anything, I just think my muscles need a day I don’t push them.”

“So, not very religious?”

“I’m not ready to talk to you about something so personal, yet.”

Well fuck, now I was intrigued, but I wasn’t sure if I could safely push for more information.

I was considering my next question when she said, “I don’t know anything about your family. Brothers, sisters?”

I sighed and told her a truth only a few of my MC brothers know. “My parents and brother were killed in a car wreck when I was fourteen, and I went into foster care. After high school I went to community college for two years and took the classes I’d need for a law enforcement career — criminal justice and some law classes. I didn’t pass the personality profile during the police academy and was kicked out, so I became a skip tracer instead.”

“I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry to you, but I’m so
freaking
sorry you’ve experienced so much loss.”

“It was a long time ago… and
freaking
? Is that your way of saying
fucking
?” I didn’t want to stay on the subject of my shitty teenage years.

“Maybe.”

“Can you say
fucking
? Will the windows break around you if you do? The birds fall from the sky while lightning strikes all around you?” I asked with a smile, teasing her.

“No, but I’m not comfortable saying it.”

She responded with a smile, but now I wanted to understand her rationale. “You know it isn’t a sin to say it, right? Society has decided it isn’t acceptable. It’s one of society’s silly rules.”

“Yeah well, I live in this society so I tend to follow the rules. Silly or not.”

She’d given me her truth and I couldn’t ask for more than that. Time to change the subject. “Can I stick around long enough to tuck them in tonight before I leave?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. You overworked muscles you aren’t used to using.”

“My ankles are already feeling it, and a muscle in my thighs that attaches to my knees. I’m not sure I was even aware it was there, before today.”

“You run straight on your treadmill, and your weight machine has you lifting in a straight line. The real world has curves.”

“You think I’m too insulated.”

Fuck yes, but… “If you’re comfortable with it, it isn’t for me to judge.”

“But you don’t want your kids to be insulated.”

“If it were up to me, I’d homeschool them and never let them out of the house, but even that wouldn’t guarantee their safety. So, instead I need to teach them as much as I can about staying safe and defending themselves.”

“You agree with my father about martial arts.”

She said it as a statement and not a question, and I nodded. “Yeah, and I’ve already told you I know an instructor who teaches with self-control as the foundation of everything. Not only your temper, but also the simple act of moving your arm to defend yourself. It’s your arm — if you can’t control it, who can? It’s also your temper, and you must control it.”

“Chloe was testing you.”

“How did I do?”

“Better than I expected you to. I was impressed.”

“What do you do to discipline them?”

“I use logical consequences when I can, but if it isn’t practical we have timeout, loss of privileges, or early bedtime.”

“If I were to do the loss of privilege or early bedtime, it’d fall on you to enforce it, which wouldn’t work. My arsenal is pretty barren.”

“Were you spanked as a child?”

I nodded. “Belt, but yeah.”

“Me too. My dad’s a strict disciplinarian. It’s a wonder Sandy’s bottom didn’t bear permanent marks, he belted her so many times.” She shook her head and came back to the present. “I swatted the kids’ behinds when they were too young to have a conversation about right and wrong, but I haven’t done so in about a year and a half. About a year ago, I ran a finger over wet soap and ran it down Chloe’s tongue for backtalking me and using crude language, and I’ll do it again if I hear that kind of language from her.”

“Clara would’ve gotten a swat on the butt for that tantrum, but I had a feeling Chloe wouldn’t be accustomed to that, so I found another way. I still think a quick swat is better than a timeout, but I understand the ramifications if you do it in public and someone reports you. If kids know you’ll react one way in public and another in private, they’ll adjust, and that isn’t good, either, because they need to think their parents are all powerful. So, I’ll discipline them without striking them.”

“Well, what do you know. You’re going to follow one of society’s silly rules.”

She was teasing me, so I grinned and tilted my head in agreement.

I
cooked
steaks on the grill while Connie prepared fried squash and french fries. We cut the kids’ meat as they took a seat at the table, and I realized how comfortable we were becoming, parenting them together.

“We make a good team,” I told her, and she smiled back as if in agreement.

I had one-on-one time with each child while she ran the other through the bath, and tonight was apparently also hair-washing night, so the blow dryer was involved. I remembered bath time with Clara and Nicky when they were little, the fun of playing in the water, the affection and caring of making sure they were clean. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to have that with Chloe and Declan, but I enjoyed the time I had with them.

It hurt my heart a little when I realized how much more Declan opened up and talked when Chloe wasn’t around, and I made a mental note to try to draw him out more around his sister.

Tonight we cozied up in Chloe’s bed for me to read to them, and I carried Declan to his bed at bedtime.

I sat on the top step with Connie again, and we listened to them talk.

“Declan?”

“Be quiet or we’ll get in trouble.”

“I like having a daddy to read to us and tuck us in.”

“I liked climbing on the rocks.”

“Me too. Do you think Daddy will marry Aunt Constance so we can all be a fambly?”

“No. Aunt Constance was mad when Daddy bought us boots.”

“She has to fall in love with him. Let’s pick flowers tomorrow and make her think he gave them to her!” Chloe was a terrible whisperer, especially when excited, but it made me want to go to her and hug her, my heart swelled so much for the little matchmaker.

“Lay back down,” Declan said, also in a much-too-loud whisper. “She can hear when you walk.”

“I want to sleep with you.”

“It makes her mad now, Clo.
Please
just stay there. I don’t want to be in trouble tomorrow when she wakes us up and we’re together.”

“Just for a little while?”