Harddrive Holidays (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 14) (3 page)

Climbing back into his chair, he pulled one heel up onto the cushion, resting his wrist on top of his bent knee. Mindlessly snapping his fingers as he watched the flames, he sighed. Glancing back up at the pictures, he could trace the growth of their children, Barry and Dixie; looking at kindergarten class shots next to photos of the kids on their dirt bikes, arranged beside holiday and family dinner pictures, winding up with graduation. Their breakup hadn’t come until after all of that, and because the pictures were her thing, they abruptly stopped right before Barry got married and Dixie moved away.

Stretching out his leg, he leaned back in the chair, flipping the blanket over his legs once again.
Damn woman
, he thought.

“You sure this is what you want, darlin’?” Staring at his daughter, he waited for her answer. That damn quick smile flashed on her face, full lips a legacy of her mother as Dixie nodded. He frowned, shaking his head. “Damn far away, baby girl. He won’t stay around here instead?”

“Daddy,” she scolded, reaching out to lift his hand and thread her fingers between his. “You know Keith’s work is based out of Indiana. He was just up here for a job.” She shrugged, squeezing his hand. “I love him. He’s got to go back home, and I want to go with him.”

“What did your mama say, Dix?” He tried to ignore the hurt that came with that question because it was another hit to his heart, acknowledging Erin wasn’t living with him anymore.

“She told me to follow my heart,” Dixie said softly, eyes on his face, concern evident on her features. “I wish I weren't going before you and Mom patched things up.”

He pulled his hand back, making an abrupt movement. Turning his head, he looked out the window and could feel the scowl that settled on his face, brows pulling together painfully. “Don’t let our troubles stop you from finding your happy, darlin’.” He sighed, and then turned to look at his daughter, forcing a smile on his face. “We’ll either settle our shit or we won’t. You gotta live your life, and your mama’s right, you gotta follow what feels right. If Keith feels right, if this is the path you’re settled on, then you have my blessing. Love you, baby girl, so much.”

“You never told me what happened—“ she stopped when he made a noise. They stared at each other for a minute, and then she shook her head. “Alright, Daddy, but you know I love you, too.” She stood and moved toward him, crawling onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around her, something he knew she had seen her mother do all her life.

“Baby girl,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the side of her head, the pain from missing Erin compounded by the knowledge his daughter was leaving.

He lay there staring at a ceiling he could barely make out in the light reflected through the windows, having rolled onto his back during this sleep cycle. That memory was from nearly twenty years ago, and to this day he had never told either of their kids what happened. Stupid argument over nothing, escalating to a disaster of his own making because he was too fucking hardheaded to explain or apologize. “And not a day goes by that you don’t fucking regret it, old man.” His mutter was loud in the silence that draped through the house. “Fucking ghosts of the past, coming to visit on the eve of the holiday that started it all.”

Shifting he looked at the fire, decided it was good enough for now and turned to his other hip, letting himself roll back down the hill into sleep.

“What was the one thing I’ve always told you I could never forgive?” The question whipped his head around and he stood looking at his wife, his hand on the arm of a woman attempting to straighten her clothing as she leaned one shoulder against the wall. Erin advanced toward him, placing one slow and careful foot in front of the other. “The only thing I asked you for, and you can’t manage that one thing.”

“Erin, baby—“ he started but stopped when she shook her head, hair flying around her face, the ends nearly snapping with the violence of her movement.

“I’ve looked the other way when the boys around the shop danced with other partners, keeping my mouth shut so the only way their spouses and old ladies would find out was on their own. But, I told you, Landon. I said it and I meant it. If you stepped out on me, if you dipped your wick into a different well, then we would be done.” She swept her hand towards the woman who stood there silently, eyes wide, head swiveling between the two people in the hallway with her. “This is our son’s wedding, Landon. Quite the statement you’ve made.”

Erin had always been stubborn, and she was mad enough that anything he said now would only make things worse, so he stood there, mouth closed, biting back the words he wanted to spit at her because it wasn’t what it looked like. But, he could tell from the look on her face she wouldn’t hear him, even if he said the words. And, even if she did hear him, she wouldn’t believe him because he had laughed about the boys fucking around, joined in the randy joking about their escapades outside of their marital vows.

She turned on her heel and stalked back up the hallway, pausing at the end for a moment and turning to look at him. “I’ll keep my mouth shut for Barry’s sake because this is his day. But, I’ll be sleeping elsewhere tonight, and tomorrow I’ll come get my clothes. You keep everything, old man. I don’t want anything to remind me of your cheating ass.” She turned the corner and was gone, silence flooding in to fill the space behind her departure.

“Shit,” the woman said softly, eyeing him with a shocked expression on her face.

“Yeah,” he answered, not looking away from where he last saw Erin.

“You want me to tell her what happened?” Her voice was softly sorrowful because this was a fucked up situation if ever there was one. Unwanted, Erin’s brother Angus had been rubbing up on this chick, leaving his wife sitting and waiting for him at their table at the wedding reception, and her not one speck wiser. Harddrive had run off his brother-in-law and then stayed to make sure the woman was okay. That was what Erin had walked into, not the tail end of him getting a taste of strange.

“She wouldn’t believe you,” he said curtly. Turning to look at her, he asked, “You okay?” She nodded and he sighed. “Might be a good idea if you left,” he suggested and she nodded again. “You need me to find you a ride?” Wordlessly she shook her head and he had his turn nodding. “Take care,” he said, turning to walk up the hallway, shivering as he passed the place Erin stood when she first started speaking.

“Fuck.” He yelled this, waking with a start. Every fucking time he dreamed about that night, he fought to turn things, struggled in the hope that he could change the outcome, but wasn’t ever able. It played out the way it had in real life, the last words Erin spoke to him scored in his brain. A nightmare. Sure, he could have called, but dammit, she should have known he would never do that, never fuck around on her. For twenty-three years, he had thought about picking up that fucking phone every single damn day.

“She could have called, too,” he muttered, shifting his ass to one side as he drifted back to sleep.

“Papa.” A soft voice called his name, and then there was a little body climbing into his lap. Wrapping his arms around the warm child, he blew out a deep, relaxing breath. “Papa Shoe, you’re squishing me,” the giggle came from underneath his chin, and he grinned, not wanting to wake from this dream.

“Shhhh.” That whisper came from nearby, the voice tantalizing familiar. “Let Papa Shoe rest. Why don’t you nap with him?” Shifting around, he pulled the now slack body against his side and let sleep roll over him again.

“Dad, I think we need to expand. Billings is a good market, and it would give me a chance to make a difference in a way I don’t think I can in Cheyenne. You have the trade sewn up here, but Billings is an opportunity to look forward. We can shift the track the business is heading down, expand things, get into custom bikes.” Shifting foot to foot, Barry stood in the kitchen of the log house he and Erin had built, the house their kids had grown up in. “I already found a building, and Gunny’s got me hooked up with a wicked talented mechanic. HBG2, what do you say?”

Looking at his son, his heart swelled with pride at the confidence his boy showed by bringing this to him. He knew that since Erin had left him, he had developed a bit of a reputation of being a hard-ass.

All the local cops knew him because his bar fights were the stuff legends were made of, so much that they dreaded seeing him pull into the local biker bar. More than once he was allowed to sleep off a drunk in the empty apartment over the shop instead of being taken to the local jail, mostly because even LEO didn’t want to deal with him. For Barry to brave his shitty attitude showed balls.

“I think you’re full of shit,” he said and watched the muscles all along Barry’s jaw jump as he clenched his teeth tightly, anticipating his father’s next words. Harddrive was happy to disappoint for once and grinned broadly. “But I like the particular brand of crap you’re selling. Grab a chair, let’s get comfortable, sort out this opportunity.”

By the end of the day, they had hammered out a tentative business plan and timeline, and that was the beginning of their expansion. Beginning with one new shop in Billings, Barry first made that location a success. He put in long hours and worked like a dog to make sure things were all handled in a way that shone the best possible light on them. Customer service issues were few and far between, and now they had expanded further, opening shops in Sturgis, Omaha, and Denver. Five stores, all of them profitable, because of his son’s hard work.

Barry had called him a couple weeks before Thanksgiving this year, talking about heading further south, maybe looking at New Mexico for their next shop. The key in every location was getting the right mechanics and managers in place. Mason and several of his Rebels had proven instrumental in giving them leads on good men and women. He had proven to be a good friend to have in many ways.

As a good club should be, the Rebel club membership was far more like family than friends, and Harddrive had been humbled and honored at the sendoff the club had given Rodney when he passed from lung cancer several months ago.

Harddrive’s brother had slipped into the life after Vietnam, too. Rolling wild and crazy through his days, never settling in any one place for long, at least not until he found the Rebels. He took a road name, Bingo, but had never taken an old lady, claiming his poetry was a jealous bitch. That man could string words together in a way that surprised Harddrive every time he listened to one of those poems read aloud. There were commemorative signs on the wall of every shop with lines from Rodney’s work etched into them, words and plaques set in place on the day each store opened. It was a way for him to have his brother with him, no matter where Bingo rolled.

Having Mason be involved in the club his brother was in proved interesting, and lucrative. Between the friendship he had with Mason, and the brothers Bingo had in the club, the Rebels called Barry for a hell of a lot of bike-related purchases. It seemed they were shipping parts across the country nearly every week, and he would never admit it to Barry, but it meant his damned, pain-in-the-ass computer inventory was a benefit. The kid had good ideas and kept pushing him into adopting things that hadn’t even been thought of when he opened the first shop.

Then he got a call from Bingo, telling him their sister had shown up in Fort Wayne, stoned out of her gourd, with a half-dozen kids in tow. They had both lost touch with her years before, back when her relationship decisions put the family at risk. She had left town with that deadbeat boyfriend, dropping out of sight along with five thousand dollars of their parent’s savings.

After reconnecting with Bingo, over the next few years, she popped out three more kids, the dads never staying in the picture for long. Then he got another phone call because Bingo found out she got cancer. Mother of nine, her body worn to pieces by life and the disease.

Bingo had been living in Chicago at the time, patched into the Rebel’s mother chapter, but Mason gave him the go ahead to charter a new one in Fort Wayne. Named him president and gave him the chance to run things there. Gave him an opportunity to be there for Isabel, try and ease her way. It wasn’t long before they buried her, and Harddrive had made his first trip to the Fort, as the locals affectionately called the town.

There he had heard stories about Andy; finding out the kid had stumbled into Mason’s bar in Chicago years before, still riding the Indian motorcycle Harddrive had sold him. The same one that Mason had traded in years before that. Now called Slate, the kid wasn’t a kid anymore, and the word through the grapevine was his experiences during his travels were writ large on his skin. Twisted and good, his life seemed wound up in Mason and the Rebels, both coming and going.

Then came a call from Mason. Bingo was in the hospital, diagnosis lung cancer, the prognosis grim. He made the trip to the Fort again, flying in this time because he wanted to ensure he got there before Rodney went under the knife. He had very nearly picked up the phone that night, stalking in restless circles around the hospital waiting room, the desire to hear Erin’s voice ricocheting through his head like a pinball machine gone insane.

A hard and shitty thing to have to go through alone and Mason had known this, sending men down to wait with him. Bear and Gunny were there, already known to him because of their passion for building and restoring motorcycles. He had met Hoss and Road Runner, an interesting pair of men because, like Bingo, they shared a creative bent, Hoss a painter and Road creating art out of food as a chef.

Bingo came through that surgery okay, and before he returned to Wyoming, Harddrive saw him set-up in a home with a couple who seemed determined to adopt the man and their sister’s kids. Bingo had taken responsibility for the rug rats when their sister died, circling those peewees with love and support, making a good life for all of them. Harddrive watched the care Jase and DeeDee took with his brother and it eased his mind considerably when he had to go home, knowing that even if he was traveling down a hard road, Bingo was surrounded by people who loved him.