Unveiled Wishes (Iron Shield MC #2)

11. Reliving the Past

Chapter 11

Reliving the Past

G rizz

I helped the club pack for the beach.

“Are you going to be alright staying here?” Sabre asked me, before heading to his bike.

“I am a big boy. I can stay home by myself.” It was bitchy, but I was getting tired. Everyone looked at me as if I was cracking, and maybe I was, but I didn’t want to hear about it all the time. I didn’t want to see the pity on their faces. Meredith and I would get through this. I wouldn’t believe anything else.

Sabre threw his hands up and walked out the front door, and I headed upstairs to my bride. A smirk settled on my lips. She had been up when I had headed downstairs for breakfast. Choosing not to eat with everyone else, she’d made a plate and headed back to bed. I had an idea, and I hoped it worked.

Opening the door to my room, I quickly scanned her. She was sitting up in bed, watching TV. The breakfast plate was next to her, completely empty. It gave me hope that today was going to be a good day. I shut the bedroom door out of habit and launched myself onto the bed. She rewarded me with a small giggle.

“Hey, the club went to the beach, and I didn’t think you would want to go,” I started with. She said nothing as she slid further down into the bed, laying on the pillow so that we were eye-to-eye. “I have an idea. If you don’t like it, we’ll try something else.” I stared at her, memorizing her features as they were in this moment, in case things went south. “Get your shoes on.”

“Okay.” She rolled to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge. It took her a minute to stand, and I didn’t want to ask if she was in pain. I was afraid that the atmosphere would change. Meredith tied the laces and then stood up to face me. “Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

I didn’t know if it was because the clubhouse was empty, but Meredith seemed to be relaxed. I led her through the kitchen, not paying attention to the mistletoe hanging above the door. We went out the back door and walked across the yard to the garage. I wanted to hold her hand or wrap my arm around her, but I kept telling myself to relax.

I slid the door open to the garage and led her towards the back. “Welcome to my office,” I told her, waiting to see her reaction.

Meredith moved around me and went straight for the wall where the broken furniture was. “Where did this stuff come from?”

“Garage sales. The church in town has a rummage sale. Some are just broken pieces from the trash.”

“What are you doing with all of it?” she asked, paying particular attention to a rolltop desk.

“I fix them, and when they’re done, Cyph sells them for me online. We split the money.” I watched her closely as she ran her hand across the top of the desk. It wasn’t in awful shape, but it needed some TLC.

She turned around to face me, waiting.

“I figured we could work on a piece. You pick?” I often tinkered in here until the early hours of the morning. It relaxed me, and I hoped it would do the same for Meredith. I had said nothing for fear she’d stop, but I had noticed that she’d been drawing more lately. It wasn’t just the banquet hall that was on her mind. I’d seen renderings for restaurants, bookstores, and even a new clubhouse.

She nodded. “The desk.”

“Sounds good.” I stripped off my club cut and hung it from the hook on the wall. As I went to pull back, my elbow brushed Meredith’s shoulder. She’d taken off my sweatshirt that she used for emotional support and hung it on the hook next to my cut. They looked good together, and I took a mental picture to remember this moment.

“Do you have gloves?” she asked.

“Yeah, why?” I was still thinking about the clothes next to each other.

“I am not sanding that desk without gloves.” She held up her palms towards me. “Do these hands look like they do manual labor? There are too many delicate curves to pull the pieces apart and run a sander over them.”

“How do you know that?” I asked her, trying to keep this light.

She frowned at me. “When you’re the lead designer on the project, part of the job is to visit the construction site. You don’t want the crew to take liberties when the customer has already approved. I’ve learned a few things over the years. One being, always wear gloves.”

I hadn’t really kissed her since the morning Grace had disappeared. Meredith’s face was earnest, and I couldn’t help it. I swooped in and claimed her lips. To my surprise, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back.

Deepening it, I wanted a taste so that the next time she was hurtling insults at everyone and everything, I could remember she was still in there somewhere. This was my Meredith, the fun-loving brat I enjoyed taming. I swiped my tongue against hers.

I didn’t know how long it lasted, but eventually, she pulled back, pretending like this was normal. “Gloves?” she asked me, raising her eyebrow with a small smile on her lips.

I laughed and went to the cabinet on the far wall. Pulling out a couple pairs of gloves and some sandpaper, I closed it, setting them on the counter. I turned towards Meredith, but she’d silently moved so that she was standing right next to me. Grabbing the gloves, she slipped them on and waited.

“I’ve never done this before.”

I wanted to make a wisecrack about how sanding wasn’t the only thing I wanted to show her, but I refrained. We weren’t in a place where she’d accept the words as a joke. Instead, I grabbed the supplies and reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away from me as I laced our fingers together. Once we completed it, it would be hers.

“Here.” I handed her a piece of sandpaper. “You want to sand with the grain of the wood, making small circular motions.”

She looked at me and then looked at the paper in her hand. I watched as she made circles with the paper in the air, trying to figure out what the best way to follow my instructions was. She was cute, but I hid my smile and said nothing for fear she’d stop.

“Okay, I’ve got this.” She walked to the front of the desk, laid the sandpaper down, and when it scraped the wood, she jumped back from the sound. Meredith looked lost, with a blank stare on her face.

“This is easy. You’re going to ace it,” I told her, wrapping an arm around her waist and taking a step forward towards the desk together. “You ready?” I asked her. I wanted to check in with her because if being too close to me was a problem, I’d take a step back to save her.

“Yes.” She wiggled her whole body, mentally preparing for the task. When we were dating, I’d often seen her do a little booty shake. When I had asked her about it one day, she had explained it was her way of getting rid of bad juju. She wanted to nail this on the first try, and I was proud of her.

I held her close to me as I reached for her hand holding the paper. Together, we made small circles, sanding one of the wood slates of the rolltop. After a few minutes, I took my hand off of hers, but I didn’t pull away. I didn’t want to, but I knew this wouldn’t last. I gave it a few more minutes, kissed the top of her head, and went to the back of the desk. Laying on the dirt floor, I worked on the legs. The scraping of the sandpaper was the only noise in the room.

We worked contently for an hour before she asked me about my club history.

“I just realized I know so little about you,” she said, quietly. “We burned hot and forgot about the rest.”

I thought about that for a second. From the time I had seen her on the dance floor, I’d imagined being her groom. She was mine, and I had made sure that I reminded her every chance I got so that no one would take her away from me. However, it had been physical, not emotional. I doubted she knew much about me. Thinking about it, I only knew the basics about her.

“Some of this is ancient legend,” I started with. I sanded some more, collecting my thoughts. “My mother and father were high school sweethearts. They were born in a small town nearby and had never ventured beyond a fifteen-mile radius. They were too young when they got married and my dad couldn’t provide. He didn’t have any skills, and my mom didn’t want to lack for anything.”

“So, then, what happened?”

She was listening, and my heart raced. “Fake it until you make it. My dad decided he was going to be a carpenter, but he couldn’t complete projects accurately or on time.”

“He didn’t know how?” Her head popped up over the back of the desk. Meredith’s eyes were wide as she looked down at me. “Didn’t anyone complain?”

“Sure, they did, but my dad was a con artist. He could talk his way out of anything, so they would complain, and he’d sell them more of his shit.”

“He never got caught?” She was leaning over the top of the desk, invested in my story.

“Not really. He got beat up a few times, but that was more for his womanizing ways than his blatant lies. I like to eat, so when I was old enough to help, I learned as much as I could. The complaints slowed, and my dad was making his deadlines. No one realized it was me putting in the work.”

“What happened then?” she said, watching me, and I laid on my back so that I could look up at her.

“They had nothing when I came along. My dad knew of the club, and he told my mom that he was going to patch in. The club takes care of its own, and he thought the money would roll in. He didn’t realize that you actually have to live the lifestyle. Brotherhood. Loyalty and honesty.”

“What did your mom say?” Her eyes didn’t leave mine.

“My mom thought she was going to live this glamorous life, and the first time she came to the club for a party, she hated it.” I had been a baby, but I’d heard the story so many times that I could picture it.

Meredith’s head dropped back down, and the sanding sounds quickly picked up above me. I didn’t know if it had been too intimate, and she had gotten scared or something else. I went back to sanding, not asking as long we were still good. “If she hated the club, how did you get here?”

“When I was fifteen, my mom had had enough. She started dating a rich investor, and when he left, she went with him. My dad didn’t waste any time. He hung around the club every chance he got.”

“Did he really patch in? He had to be in his thirties.”

“The way I heard it was that my dad was in the right place at the right time. The police thought that a few of the brothers had robbed a local liquor store. They hadn’t, but it was easy to pin things on the club then. The police arrested the brothers, and my dad talked their way out of it. How could they have done it when they had been at the clubhouse? He went on and on, and eventually the police let them go. He earned his patch that way, and we moved into the clubhouse. The club would find out later what a cheat he was.”

“Hey, Jon,” she whispered. “I am glad the club took you in. It can be lonely when you’re missing parents.”

“Yeah, Sabre is only a year older than I am, so we hung out all the time and eventually became friends. A lot of the brothers were tradespeople because they had to do everything themselves. When they needed extra hands, we volunteered, and they taught us the ins and outs. When I was seventeen, I graduated high school and completed a common core carpentry certification at the same time.”

“What happened to your dad?” she asked, the sandpaper stopping again.

“Disappeared on my eighteenth birthday.” I had been old enough to live in the club without my dad. It was more likely that the club had taken out the trash. “Mer? The next time we do this, I want to know about you.”

***

Zook

I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling, my hand rubbing my bottom lip. I could still taste her on my tongue, and I was savoring the flavor. Rolling over, I willed myself to fall asleep, and when that didn’t happen, I rolled to the other side. Counting sheep, I was getting bored, not tired. Eventually, I didn’t bother trying anymore and headed to the main room to see who else was up.

As I came down the stairs, I saw that the only light in the main room was coming from the fireplace someone had lit after dinner. Emily sat in the couch’s corner, staring into the light. She remained lost in her own thoughts. Her head didn’t even turn when the bottom stair creaked underneath my boot. I had a feeling she couldn’t sleep either after this afternoon.

I snuck into the kitchen and made two mugs of hot chocolate. Carrying them into the main room, I handed one to Emily and sat down beside her on the couch.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked me, still staring into the flames as she wrapped her hands around the mug. “Thank you.”

“I tried to count sheep, but since that didn’t work, I gave up trying.” I took a sip from my mug, letting the marshmallow fluff hit my mustache. It tickled, and I quickly swiped my hand across it.

She took a sip from her mug. “Why do you have a dove tattoo underneath your arm? I wasn’t sure, but it looked like the feathers were E’s.”

I hadn't been expecting her to ask the heavy questions so early. I had honestly thought she’d try to deny the kiss in the sand. “Whatever little girl fantasies you’ve developed, let them go,” I quoted from my last letter to her. “I didn’t take my advice. I’ve thought about you more times than I care to admit.”

“You’re avoiding the question. Why do you have a dove tattoo?” She took another sip from her mug, but her head turned towards me, her eyes searing into the side of my head, trying to extract the answers she wanted.

“Whenever a dove returns with an olive branch, it symbolizes peace and tranquility.” I wanted her to understand the meaning, but it wasn’t enough. “I secretly wanted to return to you, which is why the feathers are E’s.”

“It’s underneath your armpit.” She turned back towards the fireplace’s light. “I could make so many jokes about that.”

“It’s in a spot that I don’t have to look at constantly, but I can carry it with me.” I thought about how that would sound to her. “How much has How told you about me? From then and even now.” I crossed my boots at the ankle and placed them on the coffee table.

“I didn’t ask my brother about you.” She took another sip of her mug and mirrored my position.

“Why not?” I asked her, confused.

“I was living out my little girl fantasies. It was more romantic if I learned tidbits about you from you.”

I wasn’t paying attention when I took a sip of my mug. The hot chocolate burned my tongue and slid down my throat. I coughed, balling my fist and pounding on my chest. “Flo said something to me right after you arrived. I’ve been turning it over in my head since. She said that I am the type of man who has to live in the moment. I think she’s right because when I received your letter about setting up a life for us, I panicked.”

“You could have just told me you weren’t interested,” Emily huffed.

“I was interested, but I freaked out. When I first read those lines, I looked up into the sky and asked how I had been so lucky to win you. You’re a prize, Em. I wanted to call you mine and show you off to the world as your proud man.”

“Biker poetry.” She shook her head and finished the rest of her hot chocolate.

“Maybe, but for the first five minutes, I was the happiest man alive, until reality sunk in. I didn’t tell How, but I walked over to the comms tent to check my bank account. That’s when I realized I didn’t have any money to send you. I grew up poor, so I’d saved my pay, but it wasn’t enough.”

“I had money…” Her tone told me how exasperated she was.

I didn’t let her finish that statement. “You had a trust fund, and I wasn’t taking money from your parents to support you.” I’d have rather died than take money I hadn’t earned.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have figured it out.” She blew out a breath, and it bounced the hairs surrounding her face.

“I only had a few thousand dollars to my name. It wasn’t enough to get started, and I didn’t want to ask the military for help. They move on their own time, and I didn’t want to hold you back. You needed to decide where you were heading for law school and get prepared. I walked out of the tent, and that’s when I foolishly broke it off.” I rubbed at my sternum, trying to ease the lingering pain.

“Now, what? We can’t go back.” She rubbed her socked foot against her ankle and held the empty mug in her lap.

“I want your forgiveness, but I don’t know how to earn it.” I was getting angry over our situation all over again. “However, I wanted to kill over some mistletoe. I might have gotten into skirmishes here and there, but I’ve never wanted to do violent harm to a brother. Today, Chef was almost a goner.”

“It was just a kiss. You kissed me on the sand. Same thing.”

“You’re mine, Em. No one should get to touch your lips but me.”

“I am no man’s possession, and I refuse to be placed on a shelf to be looked at.” She laid her mug on the coffee table, stood, and walked towards the hallway towards her room.

“Fuck!” I growled into the empty room, taking a sip of my lukewarm hot chocolate. I didn’t know if I had made any progress on winning her back. I might have been a patched brother of the Iron Shield, but I was still a kid trying to date his first girlfriend.