a conversationalist.”
“I want to know his intentions.”
“You’re making me sad.”
“Baby, you deserve the best.”
His words warm my heart, forcing me to hug him. “Yeah, but the best didn’t show up. The only guy I’ve liked since I was a horny teen isn’t interested in forever. He just wants right now. I can either get nothing, or I can get something. You getting in his face and calling him a loser means I get nothing. And he and I can’t even be friends because his precious man feelings will be bruised by your scorn. Then our kid will have parents who don’t get along.”
“Dylan, let Shelby fight this battle. Your daughter is smart and tough.”
Dad cups my face with one hand and Mom’s with his other. He offers us a tender smile before saying, “No.”
There’s no talking to my father when he slides into his stubborn groove. I decide to play with the dogs before the day gets too cold. Mom and I take turns throwing the balls. Dad sits on the porch, internally threatening a man he met maybe once. Through it all, Zathura watches us while trying to wiggle free of his vest. Much like me changing my father’s mind, the dog is fighting a losing battle.
THE GOLIATH
I ain’t doing much to hide the fact that I don’t want to be on this trip. Sure, I keep my mouth shut, no bitching out loud. Stone-faced works for Utah, but I know I got eyes on me like he doesn’t.
Our first stop after leaving Shasta is a town not far from Louisville. Pema is the location of another Reapers’ chapter. I assume I’m gonna meet an ass-load of people, but we end up eating at a bar with only a few bikers inside. Mostly, River and Shane seem to be showing off to their childhood friends, Heidi and Gunnar O’Keefe.
Last summer, I met their father—Judd O’Keefe—who I think might want to kill me. His kids seem fine. The chick is hot, and the guy says little. This club doesn’t have a president. I don’t understand why. The Reapers took over Pema like they did Shasta and another town, Conroe. Pushing out the weaker clubs, they installed new leadership. Except not here.
“Heidi runs a tight operation,” River tells Hugh, Utah, and me when he joins us at our table. “But she’s a chick and has to do everything behind the scenes. The club needs a president.”
Hugh asks what I’m thinking, “What’s wrong with her brother?”
“Gunnar is brute force. He doesn’t want to be the face of anything, and his personal skills aren’t polished like mine,” River says and flashes his pretty boy smile. “I wish one of my brothers could take over here. I’d love to have Majors boys running more than one chapter, but Maverick doesn’t want to be in charge of shit. My younger brothers aren’t leadership material. Hell, they let our baby sister boss them around.”
“Are we here to help them with something?” Hugh asks, talking for the table since Utah and I aren’t the chatty sort.
“No, I just wanted to rub my club in Heidi’s face.”
“Why?”
“She called me ball-less once, and I’m a petty bitch who never lets shit go,” River says and smirks at Heidi sitting with Shane nearby. “We’ll leave after lunch.”
“And go where?” I ask when Hugh just eats his sandwich.
“Indiana. Before the sun sets, I want to hit a campground, north of Indy.”
“Why there?” I push.
“It’s just a ride, Goliath. Think of it as a team-building exercise like those corporate douches utilize. I have specific places I want to stop at. Otherwise, we’re just riding. Is there a reason you don’t want to be on the road?”
River holds my gaze, and I can’t tell if he’s fucking with me or planning to leave me in a ditch somewhere.
“I’m on parole,” I remind him.
“Not a problem. Your parole officer knows you’re going on a totally legal work trip. Shelby handled it.”
Frowning, I’m edgy having them go behind my back. They deal with my fake job and organize my meetings with the parole officer. I’m used to them pulling my strings, but I don’t like it.
“Are we good?” my president asks, frowning now.
“Dude, chill,” Hugh tells River. “The guy might have hemorrhoids or tender balls. Don’t read so much into shit.”
River offers an easy smile for his newest recruit, but his gaze doesn’t leave me. I choose to look away. While I refuse to bow, I’m not looking to be buried in Indiana, either.
“We’ll leave