Always

Breath of Life

Breath of Life

Dallas

I step out the door of my shoddy hotel room and walk toward the bar. That’s how I’m picking them these days with a place to drink next door. My head is f****d, but I don’t have a death wish, not yet. I just want to silence the voices in my head.

Look at you. I’m not gone a month and you’re f*****g up. You’re a disgrace to the Wesson name, Dallas. All I did to make you toughen up was for nothing.

I can hear him clear as day. I quicken my gait. The lights of the bar are my sanctuary. The liquor goes down easy and makes my brain fuzzy enough to function. My mind is a horror movie stuck on repeat right now, as I relive every strained moment my father and I ever had. You think you can bury things down and ignore, but eventually, they always float to the top like dead bodies bloated seeking to be found.

I didn’t settle this when he was alive and now I have to live with it forever. Did he ever love me? Was there an ounce of pride in him for the man I’ve become? Then, there’s the question that eats at me the most. What did I do to make him hate me so much? I stop outside the bar and pull my cell phone from my pocket. No new messages. I shouldn’t be surprised, but it cuts deep that Cora doesn’t respond to my texts.

She sends pictures of R and updates about how he’s doing, or what else he’s learned, but never anything about herself. Three weeks and the distance between us feels like an endless ocean. I toy with the screen. I want to reach out, but I don’t know what to say. I give in to the masochistic urges inside me and text her. I f*****g miss you.

I shove the phone into my pockets and walk into the bar. It’s a Tuesday and the place is deserted except for a few older people sprinkled throughout the room. Probably regulars. I walk over to the end of the bar and the blonde waitress with sad brown eyes comes over. Her skin is worn and leathery. The lines around her eyes and mouth boast of a harsh life. I want to place her in her mid-thirties, early forties.

The white nametag reads Darla. “What can I get for you, handsome?” She smiles at me, leaning down and baring her cleavage.

I narrow my eyes and let her now I’m not interested. “Whiskey straight up, well and keep ‘em coming.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a hundred. Her eyes light up and I scowl. “You save the conversation for the next asshole that comes in and I’ll leave you a nice tip.”

She spins around on her heel and goes to fulfill my quest.

I’ve been around enough hoes to know how to shut one down before the s**t starts. She’s taking too long to get my drink. The past swallows me down.

Past

The front door open and my spine goes stiff. I glance across the table at Danny who’s happily devouring his pancakes. Dad’s been gone for a week this time and the cereal wasn’t cutting it. While I managed to figure out the pancake thing and make edible offerings, the kitchen had suffered dearly for the learning curve. His boots are a heavy thud on the wooden floor. My guts twist up like a Churro. He rounds the corner and I take him in.

His eyes are bloodshot, his lids are low and his face sports a tan that tells me he’s been in the saddle for awhile.

I pray he’s so exhausted that he’ll just go into his room.

“Dallas.” His voice is gravelly and hoarse.

“Y—yes, Sir.” I struggle to keep my voice steady. He’s changed since mom died. I can’t remember everything, but I know he used to laugh a lot more and spend time with me and my brother. Now, we’re nothing more than a choir in the long list of to-do items he deals with on a daily basis. My hand shakes, so I put my fork down.

“You been doing what you were supposed to while I’m gone?”

“Yes sir. Gabby’s been here to see us off to school and watch Danny. She makes us dinner too.”

“That’s good.” A ghost of a smile flickers across his face.

My chest expands. I did something to please him.

“When I leave you become the man of the house. I’m glad to see you taking the job seriously.”

“Yes, Sir.” I nod my head.

“I’m starving. I’m going to grab something to eat and crash.”

My stomach drops and the pride takes a sharp left to fear. I close my eyes and mentally count to three.

“What the f**k is this, Dallas? Get your ass in here!”

Danny glances up and his eyes are wide.

“Stay here and finish your breakfast, Danny. I’ll go talk to Dad.” I push away from the table and square my shoulders. The steps to the kitchen take forever. I hover in the entryway.

He gestures to the flour lined counter and batter speckled stovetop laden with abandoned cookware. The mixer is still semi full.

I wince as a dollop of batter rolls down the silver bowl.

“You want to explain to me why it looks like a f*****g bomb went off in here?” His eyes narrow and he’s using that tone.

It’s same tone which makes me feel like dog poop on the bottom of his shoe. I lower my gaze and shrug. “We were tired of cereal, so I made pancakes.”

“And you didn’t think to clean this f*****g mess up?” He knocks the measuring cup into the sink. The metal on metal clanks and clangs as it rolls to a stop. “s**t Dallas. I gave you a small task. I’ve only been gone a week. You have Gabby looking in on you. You think I want to come home to this s**t?” He scowls. “Do I need to get you a full time baby sitter when I go away?”

I shake my head. “No Sir, I was going to clean it up after we finished eating.”

“f*****g hell, I can’t do this with you.” He sighs and glances up at the ceiling. “Sometimes boy, you disappoint the hell out of me. I’m going to skip the food and just sleep. When I wake up, this s**t better be taken care of.”

I bob my head. I ruined his homecoming. It crushes me…

I never pleased him, never satisfied his drive for who I should be. My mind jumps ahead to my teen years.

“…What are you doing? I’m trying to hand this to you. Am I looking at the wrong brother?” He shoves my chest.

I rub my sternum as the room spins and my stomach is protesting any sudden movements.

“Skipping school, getting wasted with those losers you call friends, its drawing unnecessary attention to us, to the club. You f*****g know better.”

Spittle flies from his mouth and lands on my cheek. I’m too terrified and nauseous to wipe it off. “What were you thinking?”

I stare at him, unsure if he actually wants an answer.

“Are you deaf along with being stupid?” He smacks me on the back of the head.

I groan.

“Answer me. I want to hear this shit.”

Because when I’m with them, away from this club and drinking, nothing else matters. They don’t think I’m a f**k up, or berate me at every turn, pushing me to be some ideal that no human could ever live up to. This club is supposed to be founded on freedom, but for me it’s a cage. I’m I want to scream the words in his face, but I know better. He’d happily beat my ass into the ground. “I just wanted to have some fun. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I’m going to college. We both know that.”

The veins in his neck bulge and I’m on my ass before I know what happened. I blink to regain my vision. My jaw is screaming. Bile is rising in my throat. Heat flashes through my body. I launch to my feet. “f**k you!”

His head snaps back and a growl rumbles in his chest. “f**k me?” He scowls. “I’m trying to make your sorry ass into something useful. I put the clothes on your back and food in your belly. But you want to come at me with disrespect?” You think you’re a bad ass now? You want to come at me, try to take my head off. DO it, but I assure you, I will show no mercy and I will win.” He shoves me.

I stumble with the push and my back slams against the wall on the opposite side of the living room. My blood is racing through my veins. My senses are on alert.

“I put too much f*****g time and energy into you. You will knock this s**t off and straighten up, even if I have to beat it into you.” He clenches his fists and crowds my personal space, drilling holes into me with his gaze.

Like prey caught in a stare down with a deadly predator, I am frozen in place.

“I had such high hopes for you. But you dash them at every turn. Why can’t you just get your head on straight and grow up?” His eyes fill with sadness and the fight drains away.

My stomach gurgles and I pull away, running for the bathroom. I hit my knees in front of the porcelain just in time to lose everything. I can hear him in the doorframe.

“Like always, I’m going to clean up your mess. You’re moving schools starting Monday. If I so much as hear a rumor that you’re hanging out with those dumb f***s you call friends, we’re going to go a few rounds.”

I close my eyes and grip the bowl tight as I dry heave.

“You hear me, boy?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good, clean this s**t up when you’re done. I’m going out.”

The sound of boots grow distant. The door shuts. I let the tears behind my eyes fall free. My tears mix with puke and snot. I’m a f*****g mess and I could care less about it. I’ve disappointed him, yet again. No matter what I do, it’s no right, so I stop trying and it gets even worse. My friends have been a lifeline to an inkling of happiness. With them gone, gray skies loom ahead. I need—just need to try harder. I can do this. I’ve watched him be P my entire life. I will show him I’m worthy. I repeat the familiar mantra, but I don’t believe it. After all this time, I think he’s right. I’m a worthless piece of s**t and the only thing keeping me where I am is my parentage.

Present.

The bartender sets a shot glass on the table and fills it whiskey.

“Leave the bottle,” I say.

She looks up at me and hesitates.

I reach in my pocket, pull out a few more hundreds and lay them on the counter.

“Whatever you say, honey.” She snatches the cash and shoves it into her leathery cleavage.

Her orange, wrinkled skin makes me shudder. I salute my reflection in the mirror running the length of the bar and toss back my first shot. There will be plenty more where that comes from. My phone vibrates. I hold my breath, afraid to hope. I refill the shot glass, throw it back and pull the rectangular object from my pocket. Is Cora finally addressing me? My hearts beating like conga drums and I laugh. I’m f*****g pitiful and useless, a winning combination. My palms are sweaty as I unlock the screen.

You have a funny way of showing it.

I place the phone on the counter and have another shot. She’s right, but then again, Cora was always one for honesty. I laugh as I picture her with her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed. She’ so f*****g sexy when she’s pissed. I salute her and down the drink again, feeling closer for the answer. As pissed as she may be, she hasn’t given up on me. I think she’s the only one who ever saw any worth in me. So, why are you hurting her? The voices in my head go back and forth, but a few more minutes of pounding whiskey and they’ll lapse into sweet silence.

Cora

The text made me want to throw my phone. Is he f*****g high? I snicker. Actually, maybe he is. I won’t admit it to anyone, but I live for his texts, because then at least, I know he’s alive. The mess between him and his father warped him. I knew that. But he’d been better since he found out about R. That was the man I knew I wanted to be with forever. The one who pulled me back from the haze I’d been living in after my father got gunned down. This man—I didn’t know.

Dallas walked away from it all with nothing but a watered down weak ass excuse. I need time to get my head together.

Alone? After all the s**t we’d been through, he breaks his promise without batting an eye. Do I mean so little? Does R? I have a long list of questions with no answers and the longer they brew, the more pissed of I get. It’s nap time and the house is quiet for once, so I have nothing better to do then to think. I stand and began to straighten up the house to keep myself busy. Oh, does that blind look dusty? I hurry to the kitchen to grab a cleaning towel.

Wiping the blinds, I pause when I see a motorcycle with a very familiar rider pull up. I smile. Houdini. The man has been a breath of fresh air in our life.

Past

“Are you Baby Girl?”

I glance up from the papers I’m sifting through in the office while R plays in his playpen. As much as an infant can play. I’m pretty much the club’s b***h, filling in wherever they need me. Today, it’s at the office in the garage. The first thing I notice about the man in front of me is his cut. Houdini, Nomad. I follow the path up his along chest to his face. My heart skips a beat. He has the most startling pair of electric blue eyes I’ve ever seen. His hair is black and his angular face is the type that you’d expect to see on an angel. A handsome biker is not the norm, so it takes me a minute to get my head on straight. “I’m sorry?”

He clears his throat. His voice is rough, like he smokes too much. “Are you, Baby Girl?”

“Yeah that’s me. Are you here to get your bike serviced?” I run a hand through my hair, wishing I’d done more than put it up in a ponytail. Life with a three month old is anything but restful. I rock the low maintenance-sheik look these days.

“No, Rule told me I should come to you to get set up in housing. I’ll be staying with Wesson for awhile.”

“What?” Since when do we put up non affiliated nomads?

His eyebrows quirk upward.

“s**t, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect.” I backpedal fast. The last thing we need is to start some s**t because I didn’t show someone the proper respect.

His lips twitch at the corner. “None taken.”

“Okay, so housing. Why don’t you take a seat, so I can check the availabilities?”

He nods and sinks down.

Maybe he doesn’t smoke. Maybe he just doesn’t talk. I turn to the computer, ever conscious of his eyes on me. My hands fly over the keyboard as I pull up the logs. I know off the top of my head, the club house is full, except for Danny’s room which he can’t have, no matter how smexy he is. We have a vast number of properties and people constantly visiting from other chapters. So, we keep a physical record. R coos, so I pause and grin. “Hey baby boy. I see you.” He gives me a toothless grin and I melt. By far, he’s the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. The image of Dallas flashes in my mind and I smile. We’ve ever done.

I return to typing and find a slot. “Got it.” There’s a bedroom open in one of the houses with an attached bath. It’s in the back of the house, so he’ll have plenty of privacy and it’s only about fifteen minutes away. I turn my attention back to him and my smile wavers.

His eyes seem to see straight through to me.

“It’s a decent sized bedroom with its own bath in a house about fifteen minutes away from here.”

He nods as if to say that’ll do.

“I’ll write down the directions.” I offer up the smile, snatch a pen from a mug and jot down the address on a yellow sticky note. He’s too intense for me. I place the note in front of him on the desk. “I’ll give the prospects a call and let them know you’re on your way.”

He gives a nod, to mean thank you, then stands and flashes a heart stopping smile at R. Who coos back at him. Without another word, he walks out of the office.

“I’m not sure what I think about him, R.” I get up from the desk and lift him in my arms. “Look at you making friends with strangers. You’re lucky your Daddy didn’t see you.” I cluck my tongue, mesmerized by his bright green eyes. “He’d be lecturing you.”

“About what?”

I turn to face Dallas and grin. “Nothing important. What are you doing here?”

“I saw a pretty boy Nomad come out of here. I wanted to make sure he knew you were mine.”

I snicker. “Really?”

“Damn straight woman.” He pauses. “When are you going to let me make an Old Lady out of you?”

My chest tightens. I know he’s growing impatient, but I don’t want to do this without my dad. I nibble my lip and shake my head.

“I’m not going to wait forever, Cora.”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Fine, but we will talk about it…soon.”

Present

I walk to the front door and open it as Houdini pulls into the driveway. He grins and a part of me melts. This is the side of him, only I get to see.

I’d been mothering the boys for a long time, so it was only natural to pull him into the fold. He had shadows in his eyes, so of course I was drawn in like a moth to a flame. As much as Dallas has been groomed to be King, I’ve been groomed to be Queen. I’m the ear that everyone vents to, the shoulder they lean on when s**t gets too deep.

People like to think bikers have no heart. That they’re no more than surly thugs in leather vests. It’s not true. Everyone breaks and we all need someone to care. I provide that for them. It gives me an outlet, a way to give back. I cook, I clean, I listen to them b***h. Lecture them when no one else would dare and kick ass when it’s necessary.

I’m not weak, until it comes to Dallas Wesson. Five years and a child later, he’s cracked open my sternum, captured my heart and held it ransom. Maybe he’d always held it. When we got together on my twenty-first birthday it felt like the fulfillment of a long foretold prophecy. It’s always been Dallas and Cora at the end of the day. “Hey stranger,” I tease.

Houdini flashes me picture perfect smile and I can’t help but answer with one of my own. He’s come out of his shell so much since he’s been here, at least with me. I can’t say why I’m different. But given what I’ve learned about him, I’m just grateful he found an outlet.

“I had some time to kill and I wanted to see how you were.” His voice sounds gruff, but his eyes are kind.

“I’m breathing. That counts for something, right?”

“Where’s the little man?”

“Napping. Shhh.” I hold a hand up to my lips. “Don’t jinx it.”

His lips quirk up and he steps through the door.

I shut it behind him.

“Where’s Irish. Isn’t she your shadow now?”

“Be nice. I don’t know why the two of you don’t like each other.” I frown.

He shrugs. “Don’t know, don’t care. I could give a s**t what most people think about me.”

“Yes I know, you hard ass.” I lock the door and he follows me into the kitchen. “I need to get lunch going, are you hungry?”

He shrugs but doesn’t answer.

I roll my eyes. “Always with the silent treatment, be careful I might start to take it personally.”

His shoulders shake and I know he’s laughing.

I head over to the sink and wash my hands. Sometimes, we sit in comfortable silence, then at other times, I vent and he listens. It’s his super power I think, the ability to truly listen. So many people are like a revolving door, they’re so self involved in a never ending bout of me, me, me. Houdini is special. Once you get behind that thick wall he’s bricked up and see what lies behind it, you fall a little in love with him.

“I heard from Dallas today,” I whisper.

Houdini doesn’t say a word, but I can feel the tension.

“He said he f*****g misses me.” I snort. “Then why leave in the first place, I replied.” My voice shakes as I prepare the homemade Mac & Cheese. “I shouldn’t have responded. I know that. I don’t want him to do what he always does, find an open and worm his way back in. But a part of me is terrified. What if I push him over the edge he’s tittering on, how would I live with myself? At the same time, how can I keep looking at myself in the mirror if I just lay down and give in. The same way I always do.” I shake my head. “I deserve more, better and I’m not so sure he can do it.” My heart is ripping in two as I set the noodles to boil and turn around.

Houdini’s eyes are full of compassion. He rises from the chair and walks over, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I let him pull me to his body and I break. He’s shown me the ugly parts of him, I can only do the same. “Ira.” My voice cracks. He strokes my hair and I take comfort from the one person not judging me. Everyone else expects me to take Dallas back, no matter what. They’ve seen the storms we’ve weathered. Houdini represents freedom and a chance to choose. Right now, he’ s the net catching me as I fall from a great height and try to keep from breaking apart during the descent.