Motorcycle Man

Her lips twitched before she replied, “Yeah, you kinda proved that last night.”

“Kinda,” I agreed, grinning.

Then her pretty face lost all its humor and she whispered, “I can’t go back to her.”

Tack joined the conversation at this juncture.

“You’re not.”

I dropped my hand from Tabby’s neck and we both looked at Tack.

“But, it’s not official, like, court official and if she gets wound up and –” Tabby started.

Tack turned fully to his daughter. “Darlin’, you’re not goin’ back to your Mom.”

“But it’s not official, Dad,” she returned.

Oh boy. There it was.

She’d been worried about this just like me.

Tack studied her.

Then he declared, “Right. So I’ll make it official.”

I blinked.

“You will?” Rush asked.

Tack shrugged and turned back to the bowl he was whipping pancake batter in as he muttered, “Yeah.”

“Court official?” Tabby asked and Tack looked over his shoulder at his daughter.

“Legal, babe, yeah.”

Tabby’s shoulders slumped with relief.

Yep. She’d been worried about this.

As for me, this was another thing Tack had to worry about which I didn’t think was great.

Tack turned away from the bowl, moved to the counter opposite Tabby and me and put his hands on it.

“No more twenty-three year olds,” he ordered.

“Okay, Dad,” Tabby replied quietly.

“Eighteen, no older,” Tack declared.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“No more booze.”

She pulled in breath.

Then she breathed it out on another, “Okay.”

“And definitely no more lyin’, to me, Tyra, Rush, anyone.”

She nodded.

“That last, darlin’, take it in,” Tack urged. “You earn our trust again and break it, you might find it hard to get back.”

Tabby bit her lip while she nodded again.

“You’re still grounded,” Tack continued. “No car. You go nowhere unless I take you, Tyra takes you or Rush takes you or Tyra and me send you to the grocery store or on errands. You also got chores.”

“Right,” she muttered.

“But you’re still goin’ shoppin’ today with Tyra.”

Tabby perked up.

So did I.

“Right,” she said softly.

I grinned at my man.

“After pancakes,” he stated.

“Okay,” Tabby replied.

Tack held his daughter’s eyes.

Then he said gently, “Got all the love in the world for you, darlin’, always. No matter what shit you pull. Never forget that.”

My lips quivered.

So did Tabby’s.

Then she whispered, “Me too, Dad.”

Tack kept looking at her. Then his gaze moved to me.

Then he moved back to the bowl.

We ate pancakes. I took Tabby shopping. I got some Brandi clothes. Tabby got some school clothes. We came back and Rush and Tack had fixed Tabby’s door. Tabby made dinner that didn’t go too well but we all ate it anyway while watching back-to-back episodes of Dog, the Bounty Hunter that Rush had taped. And, incidentally, it was another new favorite of mine, I decided this halfway through my first episode. This was partly because Duane Lee was badass and hot. This was partly because Leland was also badass and hot. But it was mostly because Dog and Beth were badass, sweet and freaking awesome. We went to bed. Tack woke me up in the middle of the night to make love to me. I made breakfast the next morning. Rush took off to hang with buds while Tabby got down to the chores her father gave her.

And now it was now, all was well and I was on the back of Tack’s bike.

All too soon, we swung off Broadway into the forecourt of Ride. When we rounded Ride, I was surprised to see the grill was smoking but the outside of the Compound was deserted.

Tack parked. I hopped off and he swung off behind me.

I got close.

“After you deal with the Russians,” I started, “can we take off on your bike?”

“Where?” Tack asked.

“Anywhere just as long as the ride’s long and we end it alone together.”

I watched his face get soft as his hand came up and cupped my jaw, his thumb sliding along the apple of my cheek.

“That’s a plan, Red,” he whispered.

“Awesome,” I replied.

He dipped his head to touch his mouth to mine, he gave my lips the tip of his tongue then he lifted his head, dropped his hand from my jaw but grabbed mine. We headed inside and I was touching my own tongue to where Tack had touched his, tasting him when we made it inside and were instantly assaulted by a wave of sound.

And the sound was cheering.

Tack stopped dead and I did with him as I was confronted by every member of Chaos and, if they had an old lady or a woman, those too shouted at us.

“What on –?” I muttered but shut up when Brick stomped to me and ripped me away from Tack by wrapping his beefy arms around me. He lifted me in the air and shook me so hard my head snapped around.

Then he dropped me on my flip-flopped feet with a bone-jarring thud.

“Wasn’t sure, Cherry, what with those fancy-ass shoes and skirts ‘a yours. But, babe, you kickin’ ass for Tabby, that sealed it,” he declared.

“Sealed what?” I asked dazedly, staring up at him.

“You’re one of us,” he answered and at his words, warmth flooded through me.

“Really?” I breathed like that was my dearest wish in the world and, at that precise moment, it was.

“The pepper spray was sissy,” Boz stated, joining our group. “But no arguin’ with the results.”

“Feel good?” Dog asked and I turned to him to see him grinning at Tack. “Never forget that. Open hand slappin’ him like he was a girl and askin’ him if it felt good. Fuck me, that was the f**kin’ shit.”

“I wish I’d have seen it,” Sheila, standing close to Dog and smiling at me put in. “Dog won’t quit yappin’ about it.”

Dog scowled down at his woman, “I don’t yap.”

She gave him a look then looked at me and mouthed, “He yaps.”

I stifled a giggle.

“Wouldn’t think you had it in you,” I heard and my eyes went to Mitzi who had joined our group with Hop, his arm around her shoulders and I felt my body still at seeing them. “Glad to know you do,” she went on and hard-as-nails, tough broad Mitzi gave me a genuine smile.