guy gets a lucky shot.
“My girls are better than his,” I say and then think of his bastard daughter, Ramona Verhees. “Well, better than the first two anyway.”
“And you’ll be around to watch your girls have kids of their own.”
We share a smile, thinking of Fuse’s death. Life’s gotten complicated since the Reapers came along and took over Shasta. Most of the men I viewed as enemies for decades are dead now. The town I long wanted to claim is out of reach. Without the goal of stealing Shasta from the Crushed Skullz, I’m restless these days.
Maybe that’s why I’m so ready to believe in Lana and the baby. Though I feel something lacking in my life, she’s a stranger. I can’t be stupid with her despite my bad habit of falling for the worst women. Making promises to Lana, only to have things turn ugly, will screw me when it comes to my daughter. Unlike Summer’s and Sidonie’s moms, I can’t see Lana ditching our kid with me. That means I need to think with my head instead of my dick if I want to avoid fucking up this already complicated situation.
PART 2: WELCOME TO ELKO
LANA
My mom offers to drive with me up to Elko. Lineke Leroux loves herself some good gossip, and everyone is curious about Carina’s daddy. Mom doesn’t tell me that’s why she wants to come along. She claims Shelby freaked her out by claiming Bronco’s sisters might cut off my pretty face.
“Since my face will be too far away!” my friend cried dramatically just to inspire someone to drive up with me.
Mom took the bait. Now she drives my small red SUV while I sit in the back seat between Carina and Desi. The baby sleeps. Desi lets me help her play games on her tablet. My older daughter wears her hair loose, wanting to look extra pretty when she meets new people. Desi never acts overly self-conscious about her looks. She always smiles and finds the best in a situation. But I know she worries about feeling left out.
“How old are his daughters?” she asks for the third time this morning.
“Fifteen and eleven.”
“I’m only nine,” she says, smiling despite clearly worrying. “They’re in junior high.”
“Sidonie is in fifth or sixth grade. I’m not sure how the school works in Elko.”
Switching gears, Desi shows me her matching game again. This keeps us entertained for the rest of the two-hour drive. Mom sings along with the radio, and Carina does what she does best at her age.
I’ve seen pictures of Elko from the internet. Out of curiosity, I put in the address Bronco gave me. Despite his down-to-earth biker vibe, he lives in some posh digs. His big-ass house is in the middle of a gated community, surrounded by lush woods. I wonder if he feels out of place with the residents of the neighborhood. Do they look down at his tattoos and lifestyle? Some of the people in the rich part of Shasta frown when the Reapers ride by. Does Bronco deal with the same bigotry? Do his daughters? Will Carina?
The security guy at the Woodlands at Dry Creek’s front gate frowns at us and flashes his holstered gun. That’s when I realize how this community maybe isn’t so hoity-toity. There might be plenty of Bronco’s people located behind these gates.
Even in her fifties, Mom still flirts as well as she did in her prime. The guy’s stony expression softens, and he grins for her. Then he tells us to head up, and he’ll call the boss. As we drive into the community, Desi nearly presses her face against the window.
“These houses are big,” Desi whispers. “Is Carina’s daddy rich?”
“I’m not sure, but don’t ask. It’s rude to talk about money with people.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Someone made up that rule a long time ago.”
“Kids at school talk about who’s poor.”
“But kids aren’t good at following the rules.”
Nodding, Desi returns to looking at the large two-story houses. I’d guess most sit on over an acre, allowing for large, manicured lawns and deep back yards.
“Here we are,” Mom says as she pulls into the circular driveway of Bronco’s swanky house.
Desi’s eyes widen at the sight of the two-story arched porch. Then she frowns down at her colorful shirt with the word “SMILE” printed across the front. “I didn’t wear the right clothes.”
Wrapping an arm around her, I smile. “You look beautiful.”
Desi leans into my hug and offers me her goofiest grin. She’s such a happy child, and