“You know I don’t want that. You’re just ill-tempered.”
“Then leave.”
“I can’t. My family is here.”
“Then you can all leave.”
I smile at his expression since his words no longer match his sad eyes. “Why can’t you work out or smoke pot or get drunk right now?”
“Working out won’t help. I’ll just end up breaking the equipment.”
“And pot and drunk?”
“I can’t do those things when there are kids in the house.”
“Are those things dangerous?”
“No. The drunk thing won’t work anyway. I need to be alert later for my club meeting.”
“And the pot?”
“I told you that I can’t do it with kids in the house.”
“Why? Pot is marijuana, yes? My parents used that at our commune when I was little.”
“It’s not how things are done here. People will think I’m shit.”
“The people in your club?”
“It’s not right.”
“Says who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it your mother who says that?”
“My mother is dead.”
“But you hear her in here,” I whisper, rubbing his temples.
“Not her. It doesn’t matter.”
“I would like for you to calm down. I think pot will soothe your stormy heart. You should do that since we can’t have you breaking your equipment, and I don’t want you to hurt me with fucking.”
For a few minutes, Anders stares up at me while I stroke away the frowns from his forehead.
“Do you fear me?” he finally asks.
“Sometimes.”
“Do you want to leave me?”
“No. I care about you. That’s why I killed Rusten,” I say and think of the man’s blood on my hands. “I feel a little bad inside over ending his story. He wasn’t ever cruel to me. I never wanted to hurt him before. But he planned to kill you, and I’m not ready for your story to end.”
Anders’s big handsome face smooths out to an expression I saw so many times on the side of the road.
“You’re beautiful, Pixie.”
“So are you, Anders.”
“I feel like a monster.”
“Did someone teach you to feel that way, or did it happen naturally?”
“I don’t know,” he lies.
“My mama and papa and the Dandelions told me I was beautiful. That’s why I feel beautiful. I don’t think anyone tells you how beautiful you are.”
“You do.”
“Yes, but you only just met me. Does Bronco say you’re beautiful?”
Anders lets out a loud laugh. “No. Men don’t talk like that.”
“Then it’s good that I’m not a man.”
Finally, Anders smiles at me in the way he used to on the road. His rage wall crumbles, revealing the broken man underneath. I kiss my index and middle fingers before pressing them against his lips.
“You did a good thing for my family, Anders. I’m not your enemy. I hope you will remember that when the ugly voice in your head tells you otherwise.”
His gaze softens, and he reaches up to caress my lips. “No one’s ever loved me. Not a single person ever. I think seeing your family love so easily makes me jealous. Also, I started thinking about how you don’t belong with me.”
“Do you see how we create sunshine together? Well, I will shower like you want and wear the clothes you like and keep quiet so you won’t feel overwhelmed,” I say and then add more quietly, “But I won’t let you browbeat my heart. The mean voice in your head is my enemy, and I won’t bow to it.”
Anders gives me a half-smile. He takes my hand and holds it against his cheek. “Did you really like the movie?”
“Can we watch it again tonight?”
Though falling back into distrust, Anders nods. He always assumes the worst. The ugly voice in his head keeps causing trouble. I’ll have to watch out for that one.
ANDERS
Between Pixie’s soft fingers on my warm skin and a joint, I’m ready to face Bronco and my club brothers at the Executioners’ clubhouse—Rooster’s Tavern. I’ve always liked this bar with the decorative wooden details. My old crew worked out of a scuzzy pub that smelled like piss and only served watered-down booze. Everything about that place felt cheap and evil.
Rooster’s Tavern was my favorite place before I got my house. I’d sit in here for hours, not even drinking, just listening to music or my club brothers talking. I liked the scent of leather seats and wood cleaner. Being in here left me feeling as if I was part of something solid and meaningful.
Lately, though, I haven’t been around Rooster’s Tavern as much. Fucking the bunnies wasn’t an option after I met Pixie. She might be a kid, and I ought to stay away from her. Yet, I still can’t have the bunnies touching me. Fucking those girls would be disloyal to Pixie. I knew she wasn’t touching anyone else. When I asked if she had a man at the Village, she laughed so hard that she literally rolled around in the grass.
I’m glad I didn’t cheat with the bunnies. I feel cleaner for Pixie now that she’s in my house. We haven’t done anything sexual, but she does keep kissing her fingers and putting them on my lips. Is that a friendship thing? Does she want me to be her man? I don’t know why I don’t ask. I guess I’m worried she’ll roll around in the grass laughing at me.
I’d prefer to keep my thoughts on Pixie. Her hair—free of the braids from the Village—felt soft when she brushed it across my face in the yard today. Pixie is effortlessly affectionate, and I want to return to her side.
“Lowell,” Bronco says once I enter the club’s private area.
The Executioners’ vice president signals for the bunnies to leave the large back room in the bar. Bronco never deals with the women. He’s weak with the fairer sex, letting them kick him around. He has two rough older sisters who both coddle and torment him. For a long time, Bronco avoided getting close to women. Then he met a sexy stripper named Lana, knocked her up
