Shepard

2 - She stole my heart long ago

Shepard

It didn’t take long before I became a prospect. It took even less for me to be a patched member. I was VP by the time I was twenty-six. I got voted in after old Cal, my dad’s former VP, was gunned down and killed.

A killer I may be, but I don’t kill for the sake of it; I end lives only when there’s no other option. Ain’t nobody can say otherwise.

I’ve led a good life filled with fighting, death, laughs, and love for my brothers. Even found myself a woman who gave me a couple of kids. It might just have been the biggest mistake I made sleeping with that bitc.h.

I’ll tell you why.

You’d think a man like me would be able to hold onto his woman and child, wouldn’t you?

Big, bad biker, Vice President of the Snakes Henchmen, one of the largest charters around - the Mother Charter.

My Old Lady was a little out there sometimes. We weren’t in love, but one night with Celia led to Tate. The second she told me she was pregnant, I made her mine. I didn’t give her any choice in the matter. The Snakes don’t knock women up and let them walk away with our kids.

We had an alright couple of years. I stayed faithful to a woman who couldn’t stand me. I couldn’t bear even looking at her half the time, but she was the mother of my kid, and I’d made a commitment, one I wouldn’t back out of.

Who cared if I’d set myself up for a lifetime of misery with a woman I couldn’t love?

I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t told Celia I loved her. I needed to keep her sweet somehow. I couldn’t risk Celia taking off with my boy because she was unhappy. Celia told me she loved me a few times, but I knew she was just echoing the words I’d spoken first. I doubt she thought I loved her when I said the words. In effect, we were living a lie from the start.

I buried my heart and soul in my club and into loving my son. I may not have cared much for his mother, but my boy was everything to me, and he loved his daddy just as much.

Celia couldn’t stand it; she hated that Tate would rather be with me than her. I know that must’ve hurt being his mother, but what the hell was I supposed to do about it? She was hardly mother material anyway.

Tate was four when Celia told me that she was pregnant again. I was shocked at first. I thought she might have cheated on me somewhere along the way. It turns out she was faithful, if nothing else.

Nova Louise Jackson was born on the twenty-second of September, Tate’s fifth birthday. She was tiny but beautiful, and Tate adored her. Celia took to motherhood a second time around like she did the first time – awfully.

She tried to be a good mother, but she was always more important than her children. It seemed to me that she’d rather party than spend time with her kids.

That’s why it made it so hard to understand why Celia did what she did that day. The day she stole my little girl, took her, and left my son behind in a world of hurt and insecurities. We had seven years together, Nova, Tate, and me, seven wonderful years that will never be forgotten.

Almost two years later, I still wonder if Nova misses me.

Does she call for me during the night like she used to?

Does she wonder where I am?

Is Celia taking care of her?

I’ve searched everywhere and had every kind of private investigator out looking for them, but it seems they’ve vanished off the face of the earth. I was told that if Celia had gone underground, the chances of finding her would have been slim to none.

I can’t give up searching, and I never will, but my father is right; I’ve put everything I have into searching for Nova. Everything. I still have a son here who needs me. He lost his mother and sister, and I haven’t been there for him as much as I should have. Poor kid probably thinks I blame him.

That could never be.

Tate was twelve years old when Celia took Nova; what could he have done to stop her?

Even my momma couldn’t prevent that bitc.h from walking away with my little girl.

I still lie in bed at night with my baby girl’s teddy bear and hold it to my chest, breathe in my daughter’s scent, and pray to the almighty to bring her home safe to me.

A couple of nights after it first happened, my boy would walk into my room in tears. It killed me. Tate was always a robust and spirited kid. He always wanted to be a biker like his daddy and grandfather. However, those few nights, he was nothing but a little boy missing his sister and wondering why his momma left him.

‘Dad?’ He said one night after creeping into my room. I wasn’t asleep. I couldn’t sleep. ‘Can I... I mean,’

‘Come here,’ I patted the bed. I knew what Tate wanted, his dad. He climbed onto the bed and curled into me. ‘Bad dream, Bud?’ I asked him after I wrapped my arm around his shoulder, and he’d wrapped his tight around my waist.

He shook his head.

‘Dad? I know Celia took Nova,’ He’d refused to call Celia mom after she left. I couldn’t say I blamed him; she was no mother to him. ‘But I’m still here. I love you, Daddy.’

It brought tears to my eyes as he hugged me. It made me realize how much my son was hurting and how I needed to get the hell out of my head and be his father, and I did just that.

“Can I get you something, handsome?” Lynette’s soft voice brings me out of my head and back to the here and now.

Lynette is a damn good friend of mine. She lives next door to Tate and me with her little girl, Willow. Beautiful little girl with big hazel eyes and long brown hair. Eleven years old and relatively small for her age.

Tate seems to have taken her under his wing. I wouldn’t say he’s replaced Nova with Willow, but he has that brother-sister bond with the girl.

Lynette is beautiful in a classic kind of way. Her big green eyes are the color of grass — such a strange shade of green. Her dark hair is so fuckin.g shiny; it makes me wonder what the hell she washes it in.

She’s a bartender here at the clubhouse. I gave her the job because she needed extra money for Willow; her job at the diner in town didn’t pay enough, especially as her hours were cut short. Lynette is a proud woman and wouldn’t let me give her the money she needed. I had to respect her for that.

I wouldn’t let her whor.e herself out to any of these guys; she’s better than that. Not that she asked to work as a whor.e here; she’s got more class than that. It’s not like they haven’t tried a few times to get in her panties. Lynette isn’t claimed and wouldn’t say yes to any of these fucker.s if they asked. She’s young, free, and single. So, in all fairness, she’s free game to the brothers.

I made damn sure they all knew what would happen to any motherfucke.r who touched Lynette. I don’t give a fuc.k what they say or think; she’s off-limits.

Lynette is a good girl and shouldn’t be working here like this. However, I’d much rather have her work here at the clubhouse to keep an eye on her and keep her safe than have her work elsewhere. Of course, Lynette would make a lot more money if she stripped in the titty bar we own across town, but I’m liable to kill any man that so much as looks at her, let alone touches her.

At least she has enough respect for me to listen to what I have to say. I didn’t want Lynette stripping, so she backed out of the interview. I only found out she’d gotten an interview when CueBall told me she’d asked about a job. Decker would have given it to her, too.

I told Lynette I wouldn’t allow it; that’s when she told me about needing money for Willow. Lynette would do anything for her kid, even if that meant stripping her clothes for old perverts. I hated seeing her upset, and I can’t deny I was annoyed that she hadn’t come to me. Lynette knew I would have given her whatever she needed. Shi.t, I’d spent long enough making sure she was okay.

She didn’t want my money; she wanted to provide for her daughter. I admired her for that, so I offered her this job. Anything is better than taking her clothes off, even serving drinks to a bunch of foul-mouthed bikers.

Lynette is worth so much more than she believes she is.

Besides, I couldn’t have her working in the titty bar; all I would have done was watch her strip every damn night. I would have so I could look at her rocking body. Then I would have killed any man who looked at her. I don’t even want her going on dates with fucker.s. They have no right to so much as sneak a peek at her. I made sure she knew I was not too fond of the thought. So, Lynette tells anyone who asks her out that she can’t make it and that she needs to focus on her daughter.

Who gave me the right to tell her what to do?

To expect her to do as I say?

Whatever, cun.t thought it was okay to let her steal my fuckin.g heart so long ago.