“Now, we’ve been missing someone for five looooooong years!” Jimmy exaggerated into the microphone, and my forehead dropped as I groaned into Dragon’s shoulder. “Brenna, my darlin’, I need you! Make an old man happy!”
All of the old club members hooted and hollered while the newest looked at me in confusion, including Dragon. There was no way I was getting out of it, so I just gave Dragon a quick kiss and stood up.
“I’ll be right back. If they don’t let me go, please come save me.”
The yells got louder the closer I got to the stage, and the minute Jimmy grabbed my hand and pulled me up to stand with him, the air was filled with cheers. I leaned into his microphone and smiled ruefully.
“I haven’t done this in five years. Be kind!”
The whole crowd laughed, and a piercing whistle came from the picnic table where Dragon and Grease were sitting. When I looked over, Grease had a huge smile on his face, and Dragon was watching me closely. I looked around for Trix in the crowd of kids, and I found her standing still in the midst of the chaos, watching me. I gave her a wink, and she smiled huge before I walked to the back of the stage where Harry was sitting.
“You ready to go have a beer, old man?” I asked him with a grin.
My hands were sweating in nervousness, and I wiped them on my thighs before I sat down behind his drum kit.
When I was about six, I wanted to join dance class. I was in heaven when Pop let me go. Vera was my chauffeur, driving me to and from class twice a week for two weeks, while Pop was on a run. When he got back, I was so excited to show him what I’d learned that I’d dragged him to class. I’d had no idea the drama it would cause. I had no reason to think that anyone would have a problem with my pop. I didn’t notice the dirty looks the country club mamas gave him as he sat on the edge of the floor, watching me twirl and prance. I’d been completely focused on him and the proud look on his face. I’d felt like I was walking on the clouds.
The next week, it was back to Vera driving me to and from class, but everything else was different. The other children didn’t talk to me, and the dance teacher spoke to me like I was a pesky fly she couldn’t get rid of. I was devastated but determined, and this went on for three more weeks before Pop had had enough and pulled me out.
I was heartbroken, but Pop thought if I liked dance, then maybe music would be a good outlet for me. Instead of twice a week lessons at the local dance studio, Vera drove me over to Jimmy’s garage where the band practiced. At first, I was pissed. I wanted to be a pretty ballerina. I didn’t want to try and work my fingers around the frets on a guitar neck. It wasn’t long before the boys knew guitar wasn’t going to be the instrument for me. I picked up the rudimentary chords pretty quickly, but I was bored. Wayne, the bass player, was the only member who was classically trained, but he said he’d be damned if he was going to buy me a fucking flute or clarinet. A few weeks went by where they tried to get me interested in the piano, but they eventually gave that up, too. It wasn’t until I stepped behind Harry’s drum kit that I found my place.
I was too small to sit, so I stood behind it as I beat on the drums the first time. Only my eyes and the top of my head showed over the set of toms, but it was love at first beat. It turned out that I had an affinity for percussion. I sat quietly while Harry explained what sound each piece made, and from then on, I was hooked. I was by no means some child prodigy, but I was good, really good. I played with them on Tuesdays and Thursdays for ten years. My skills improved rapidly, but steadily, over the years until one day I was as good as Harry. My recitals were club barbeques, and I had a captive audience of family every time I climbed on stage.
I probably could have applied for a music scholarship when I went to college. Wayne had taught me to read music, and I could play anything he put in front of me, but I had been reluctant to turn something I loved to do into something I had to do. I’d been afraid it would take the magic away. I’d played at random barbeques I went to during college, but when I left the club, I never played again.
It had been over five years since I played, and my fingers felt stiff and awkward at first, but within the first few beats of “Paradise City,” it was like I was reconnecting with an old friend. I sat behind the kit, the world around me fading away, as I played song after song with the men who’d taught me more about music than most people learn in their entire lifetime. I pounded my frustration and pain of the last five years into the drums, and by the time I was finished, my hair was sticking to my neck and the sides of my face with sweat.
I stood up at the end of the set and met Pop’s eyes across the yard. The things I’d done, the pain I’d put him through, the frustration and the anger—none of that mattered. He still watched me with the same proud smile on his face that I’d seen when I was six years old, twirling around that dance studio. Those mamas, the ones who’d acted like I was trash? They had no idea the family I’d had growing up. They wouldn’t understand the support and love that surrounded me every day of my life. Pop may not have been the best man. He was the vice president of a motorcycle club, a killer, and a thief, but when he looked at me, all I saw was the man who’d loved me unconditionally from birth. Nothing would ever change him in my eyes.
It wouldn’t be until a week later when I would see the part of my father that I’d been sheltered from, the man who had left Ireland under a cloud of suspicion and was welcomed into the club with open arms for a reason that only the old president had known.
Chapter 25
Brenna
When I got done with my fifteen minutes of fame that turned into an hour of beating Harry’s drums with everything in me, Dragon was waiting. He stood at the edge of the stage, and my feet didn’t touch the grass before he hoisted my legs around his waist, and he was kissing me hard. Our breath was ragged when he lifted his head to the catcalls and whistles filling the air around us. The smile on his face was wide and bright, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and his dimple was just barely visible underneath his close-cropped beard.
“That was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?” he asked while kneading the cheeks of my ass with his hands.
I just shrugged my shoulders. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve been playing since I was six.”
“No wonder you and Trix dance like you do. You’re fucking drumming with your feet!” He laughed in my face.
“What do you mean?” I asked him, confused.
“When I watched you guys dancing in the kitchen, your feet were fuckin’ pounding the floor with the beat of the music!”
My face got hot.
“You didn’t know you did that?” He laughed again at my embarrassment.
“Ah, no. I don’t do it on purpose. I’ve never noticed,” I told him.
“Well, it’s cute as fuck, and Trix does it, too. That girl can keep a beat like no kid I’ve ever seen,” he replied with a proud smile on his face.
He started walking through the crowd where shouts of vulgar suggestions were made to our retreating backs, but Dragon never put me down. When we made our way around the corner, he pressed me up against the wall of the building and kissed me again, his hands roaming my body.
“You’re gonna keep a beat for me tonight, yeah?” he whispered in my ear, biting the lobe gently.
I wasn’t sure exactly what he was talking about, but it didn’t matter. Anything he asked of me in that tone of voice, I’d give him.
We walked home after the sky had grown dark, and Trix had finally fallen asleep, sticky and covered in dirt, sitting on Dragon’s lap. Neither of us were drunk, but we were feeling the effects of the whiskey and beer we’d drunk. I hadn’t had more than a glass of wine since the night Trix was conceived, and I was giddy with it.
When we got into the house, Dragon turned to me, “Get undressed, Brenna. Gonna put Trix in bed. Want you naked when I get to you.”
Then, he walked quietly down the hallway toward Trix’s room as I locked up the house.
I raced into the room, flinging clothes off, with a desperation that bordered on ridiculousness. When I was finally naked, I lay down on the bed and waited as I heard him walk toward the front of the house. He came back, carrying a kitchen chair and my iPod dock, causing me to sit up in surprise.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my face creased in confusion.
He didn’t answer me, but he went around the side of the bed and plugged in the dock. Then, he set the chair at the end of the bed and locked the door before sitting down and grabbing the neck of his shirt to drag it off.
“Only set up two songs, but I figure I won’t make it much longer than that.” He looked at me, his nostrils flaring, and he finally told me what was going on. “Get down here and dance for me, Brenna.”
“Uh, dance for you?” I asked nervously.
I wasn’t a stripper. I didn’t know any sexy dance moves. I could just envision myself trying to be sexy and ending up looking like the kid from Napoleon Dynamite.
“Baby, you’ll do fine,” he told me, correctly interpreting the look on my face. “Come ’ere.”
I climbed off the bed and went to stand in front of him as the beginning strains of Awolnation’s “Sail” filled the room. I felt my breathing grow heavy as I remembered the song’s thumping rhythm. He grabbed my waist gently and pulled me so that my thighs were straddling his.
“Not much to it, baby. I want a lap dance. All you need to do is move with the beat and use your imagination. You know what I like.”
I stood there awkwardly until he pulled me down, grinding his jean-clad hips into my bare ones.
“Come on, baby. Don’t you wanna show off for your man?” he asked me on a thrust. “Give it to me.”
It didn’t take long for the beat of the music to release my inhibitions. I was using my hips with the rhythm of the song, his hands roaming my body, touching anything he could reach. I ran my fingers through his hair and then dragged my nails lightly down his chest, bending my head down once to take a nipple into my mouth. He made a sound low in his throat and dragged my head up to meet his, so he could kiss me deep, but my hips never lost rhythm. The kiss was enough to have him unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as I writhed above him.
When the song transitioned from “Sail” to “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons, he was already inside me. I moved with the beat of the music, my eyes never leaving his, as I ran my hands over my breasts and up into my hair. When my hands rose above my head and my back bowed, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. We didn’t last long after that.
We lay in the bed hours later, neither of us ready for sleep.
“We’ll get this shit taken care of, Brenna. Don’t worry. If I’m not here, Poet and Vera will help you take care of things. Our lawyer’s a douche, but he knows what the fuck he’s doing,” he told me quietly.
“What!” I raised myself up on my elbow, alarmed. “Why wouldn’t you be here?”
“You know how Slider is. He’s not gonna be easy on me just ’cause we got family shit. Got runs to make…can’t be sittin’ at home forever,” he told me like it was no big deal.
“Well, maybe he’ll be cool. He knows all of the shit that’s going on. Come on, I’m his goddaughter. He’s not going to send my man out when I need him here,” I told him logically.
He grunted. “Not your plaything, Brenna. I’m a brother. I do my job, and I’m good at it. I’m not takin’ favors from the boss because I’m fuckin’ his goddaughter.”
“That’s a shitty thing to say,” I groused.
“True, ain’t it? Just fucked you twice in the last two hours.” He sounded annoyed.
“You could have said you were ‘with me’ or something. You don’t have to talk like I’m a piece of ass.” I was getting more annoyed by the minute.
“Brenna, I’m gonna say whatever the fuck I want. Not sugarcoating shit, so you don’t get your panties in a twist. I ever treat you like a piece of ass?”
“No,” I grumbled.
“Then, don’t put words into my mouth.” He shook his head in frustration. “How the fuck did we even get on this conversation? You’re fuckin’ crazy, you know that?”
He sounded baffled, and I giggled into his chest. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me on top of him, so my arms were crossed, resting on his chest, with my chin leaning on my forearms, our entire bodies aligned to our toes.
“You do what I say,” he ordered me gently. “If I’m not here, you lean on your pop and Vera. We’ll get it taken care of. You gotta trust me, baby.”
I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew he needed me to answer him, so I did. “All right, honey. I’ll trust you and lean on Pop and Vera if you’re not here.”
“That’s good. I’m always gonna take care of you,” he whispered, running his fingers down the side of my face, and then rolling us, so we were lying side by side.
He searched my face for a minute, and the look in his eyes made me instantly apprehensive.
“Is everything okay?” I asked him anxiously, dreading his answer.
“Everything’s fine. Nothin’ to worry about. Gonna be smooth sailing from here,” he assured me with a slow kiss on my lips.
Then, he tightened his arms around me and tilted his head above mine, closing his eyes as if to sleep. I lay there in the dark, safe and warm in our little nest, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was looming on the horizon. Dragon had assured me that everything was fine, but something was off. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes as he said it.
Chapter 26
Brenna
Life evolved into a pretty familiar pattern. Dragon spent most of his time away from the house, but knowing he was in town was enough to keep me from completely panicking about our conversation after the barbeque. In the days after the party, I felt like the hairs on my neck stood up constantly in reaction to a force that I couldn’t see. I knew something was coming, but I couldn’t tell from what direction it would come.
Tony had been quiet, and we learned four days after the barbeque that our custody hearing had been pushed back in light of recent events. Dragon’s paternity suit had done its job, and I was almost giddy with relief that this would all be over soon. I no longer received any calls from Tony. Dragon had taken care of that weeks ago with the new number he’d set up for me. But I’d still had to deal with Tony’s lawyer calling the club and leaving messages constantly, always promising the same thing. If I went back, Tony would be willing to go to couple’s counseling, and he would drop the custody suit immediately. The thought made me shudder. The attorney for the club finally took over those calls, too, telling both the attorney and Tony that we weren’t interested.
Trix had made friends with some of the club kids, giving us more to do during the day, as old ladies and their children stopped by to play. Casper still spent time watching out for us when Dragon wasn’t home. Dragon didn’t feel comfortable leaving us alone until the dust had settled on the custody battle, but Trix and I didn’t mind. Casper was becoming the brother I’d never had; he was a part of our little family, and we loved having him around. It was everything I’d been looking for when I left the club. It was a community where Trix and I felt comfortable, where we could have play dates, and I could chat with other mothers without worrying that I would let something slip that would give a hint to our home life.
It was amazing to me, the difference in my perspective from a child of the club to an old lady of one of the members. I had been so sure that the life I’d wanted was outside the gates of the club where I didn’t have to worry about the stares of outsiders. I had taken for granted the community I’d grown up in. Like an extended family, there was always someone to listen or help out. I’d been so anxious to leave that I hadn’t realized what I was leaving. I was sure that there was a sense of community on the outside, that there were people living the straight and narrow who had the connections I’d wanted, but I’d never found them. The club was where I was comfortable. These were the pe
ople I trusted, and I was finally finding my place.
While lying in the grass one day with Trix asleep next to me, I realized that the traits I so dreaded in a man from the club weren’t present in Dragon. He didn’t sleep around. I didn’t always know where he was, but I was learning that I didn’t need to know. He had business that I wasn’t a part of, and I was perfectly fine with that. He didn’t party long into the night and come home smelling like club whores the way I’d envisioned in my nightmares. I knew he was doing things that could get him put away for a long time, but I trusted him to be as careful as he could. He’d never jeopardize our little family if he could help it. I figured it was a lot like a military wife must feel when her husband was out doing things that she knew put him in danger. Thinking about the dangers didn’t do anything except make her miserable. We had to make the best of a shitty situation. It made them who they were. Of course, military wives had husbands on the right side of the law…but who was I to quibble over semantics?
When I realized that this was where we were supposed to be, I felt a peace that I’d never felt before. Everything became simpler. The obsessive compulsive cleaning jags stopped almost completely, and dishes in the sink became just dishes in the sink, not a mountain I had to climb at the first possible instant. I was feeling comfortable in my skin again, free to be myself, the self I’d lost so long ago.
Dragon noticed the change in me, and it changed the way he acted toward me in simple ways. He pushed me. He teased me, knowing I wouldn’t burst into tears at some perceived slight. We fought. He didn’t hold back when he was pissed, and for once, I didn’t either. We never crossed any lines, emotional or physical, but we fought, balls-to-the-wall arguments, which usually turned into the best sex we’d ever had.