“The whole night is pretty foggy, if I’m being honest,” Snake says. “Just booze and beads and yelling.”
“So, you’re the kings of Mardi Gras,” I say. “How does that keep Josie from ruining her future with face tattoos?”
Snake and Mack trade a look for a moment. Then Mack nods and Snake beckons Josie closer.
“Listen up, Speed Demon, Mack and I won that fight, but only because we knew those people with tattoos on their faces were some seriously tough guys. It takes guts to wear rainbows on your cheeks or Snoopy on your forehead. If they hadn’t had those tattoos, they would’ve beat us up because they would’ve taken us by surprise.”
“That’s right,” Mack says. “Take every advantage you can get. Even if that means you have to sacrifice a great tattoo.”
“I still want one,” Josie says. She’s got her lips set in a firm line, like nothing on earth will change her mind.
“Come on up, Speed Demon,” Snake says, patting his lap. Josie hops up into it and Snake smiles in a way that tells me he’d be a great father someday. “You want to know a secret?”
“Yes.”
“I used to be in the Army. In the Rangers. They’re one of the toughest group of guys around.”
“That’s not a secret. You told me that before,” she says.
“I did. That’s true. But, while I was in the Rangers, I was doing some stuff that, if I told you about, your mother would kill me,” Snake says and, for the shortest moment, he pauses and a look of pain crosses his face. It’s so quick, so subtle, I’m sure no one else sees it but me. Then again, no one pays attention to Snake like I do. “We had a rule. Now, there are lots of rules in war; rules for things you can’t do, rules for the way you dress, the way you look, everything. And, even among the toughest of the tough, you’re not allowed to get face tattoos. Because you need to camouflage just how tough you are. Now, Josie, you’re the toughest girl I know — tougher than Tricia, tougher than Samantha, tougher even than Violet — but, even as tough as you are, there are some rules you have to follow, and one of those is: no face tattoos. Can you do that for me, Speed Demon?”
“OK,” Josie says, and she hops off Snake’s lap and walks back to Kendra. “Mom, I changed my mind.”
“That’s great, dear. And Snake, thank you for convincing my daughter to avoid a face tattoo because it’ll help her odds in beating people up,” Kendra says. “I am so grateful.”
“You’re welcome,” Snake says, smiling.
I observe him for a moment as the smile lingers on his face while he watches Josie explain her new plan to her mom — she’s moved on from trying to convince her mom to allow her to get a face tattoo to wanting the Unicorn vs. Zombie tattoo to be a full-back mosaic.
I always catch myself watching whenever Snake smiles — his smiles are so rare but, when they appear, they highlight just how handsome he is; the chiseled lines of his face, the way his blue eyes beam — seeing this side of him that he keeps hidden so often behind his darkness is enough to make my toes curl.
Snake turns, catches me watching.
Shoot.
My cheeks grow hot and I hurriedly look down and get back to washing glasses. I wash one particular glass so much it could shine brighter than any diamond. It takes a while until I’m sure he’s stopped looking at me; the thought of him checking me out makes me smile.
We can never be together, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have my little fantasies. And Snake is usually at the center of them. Even if he is so much older than me.
I’ve grown up around these men. Ever since I was a little girl and my mom and dad adopted me, these men and this clubhouse have been a part of my life. But with all the faces that have come and gone, not a single member, prospect, or hanger-on has made me feel like Snake.
Of course, few of them have even attempted to hit on me, because they know my dad would massacre them but, as I grew up, every so often I could feel eyes on me.
And none of them have affected me like him.
Maybe that’s because I’ve stolen glances at him just as much as he’s stolen glances at me.
Maybe it’s because he’s always been just out of reach, just like my chance to seize the other thing that I want — a chance to have my own identity, my own freedom, apart from being just the daughter of the MC’s president.
I want a life of my own. And, like my freedom, Snake is so close, but still unreachable.
When my cheeks cool, I take two of the freshly cleaned glasses and fill them to the brim with beer and carry them over to Mack and Snake’s table. They didn’t order drinks, but after seeing Snake be so good with Josie, I want any excuse I can get to get closer to him.
Ever since she’s come around, that girl has made his softer side more apparent. Josie looks at Snake like he’s a hero. Like he’s a good man. And, as time has worn on, he’s come to believe that about himself. Just a little.
Snake and Mack are buried so deep in conversation that they don’t notice me approach and I catch a snippet of their conversation.
“Shipment due in tomorrow, then?” Snake says.
Mack grunts. “Aye, around noon, coming up the back roads from the border. Stone will want us at the warehouse afterward so we can disassemble and prep the
