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“How do we proceed from here?”

“She turns herself in. I try to call in as many favors as possible and in the meantime I’ll put together a self-defense strategy in case it moves to trial.”

“Is there an alternative?” I asked, wandering around looking at the trees like I was actually interested in the same fucking pine trees that had been growing in that park since before I was born.

“I have another idea,” Bethany said, “But you may not like it. In fact, you’re not going to like it at all.” I didn’t have to like it. Ti was dead if she got locked up. Might as well drive her over to the MC and dump her off at the gate.

Wasn’t going to happen.

“Shoot,” I said.

“How attached are you to this girl?”

“What?” I asked.

“I need to know if this is a fling or a fuck or if you knocked her up or I need to know if this is the real deal, trust me. It’s important.”

I looked over to Thia and didn’t have to search long for the answer. She had picked up a dandelion and was waving it in the wind, spitting them out when the breeze blew the little white petals directly into her mouth.

“Real deal.”

I let Bethany say her piece then hung up the phone and walked back over to Ti. I promised her a normal day and I was going to give it to her no matter what. We still had today.

Not tomorrow.

But we had today.

“What did the lawyer lady say?” Ti asked as I came to sit beside her.

“Just making sure we would be on time tomorrow. She’s kind of a stickler for details,” I said, which was the truth, I just didn’t add the part about the cops that would be there waiting with a warrant.

I thought about running. Taking Ti on the back of my bike and heading out of state as fast as my bike could take us. The alternative Bethany offered wasn’t much of an alternative at all.

The choice I had to make was an easy one.

It would also be an ending to something that hadn’t yet had a chance to begin.

“I guess that’s a good thing for a lawyer to be.”

“Guess so,” I said.

“So as I was saying,” she said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “I don’t even know what your favorite color is—” She stopped mid sentence to look me over, taking in my shirt, boots, and jeans, which were all black. “Okay, never mind, so your favorite color is black, but what is your favorite movie? Favorite holiday? Actually, I don’t even know how old you are.”

I chuckled and shook my head.

“Okay fine, but besides being a big bad biker dude who has issues with his pop, and has eyes that could melt the lock off a chastity belt, I don’t know much about you and you know everything about me, so give it up. Spill the beans, Bear. Rake the dirt. Dish out the good stuff.” Ti ordered, nudging me with her sharp little elbow. She pulled her legs up onto the table and hugged her knees to her chest.

“Melt the lock off a chastity belt, huh?” I asked, raising my eyebrow at her suggestively.

She rolled her eyes. “It figures that’s the only part that registered with you. It’s only an expression.”

“Uh huh, one I’ve never heard,” I teased, feeling a little bad when her face started to redden. I cleared my throat. “But then again I’ve never heard half the shit that comes out of your mouth.”

She shrugged. “You’re not the first person to tell me that. My dad used to say that all the time.”

“Okay, Ti. You win,” I said, changing the subject. “But favorite movie is a tough one, what category are we talking about?”

“All of them,” she said with a smile. “Start with drama.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “The lady is demanding.”

“Yes she is,” she said. “I bet it’s Scarface. Is it Scarface?”

I laughed. “Ask anyone else in the club and I think that’s the answer they’d give you. But I like the classics. Watched a lot of old westerns growing up. I don’t have one particular favorite, but anything with Clint Eastwood, and the older the better.”

“Westerns? Westerns? I was positive you were going to say The Godfather or Scarface.”

“What the fuck is wrong with Westerns? Westerns are the shit.”

“Oh yeah, tell me, why are westerns THE SHIT?” Ti said, air quoting around THE SHIT.

“Because back in the old west, the men were real men. They took charge of the situation. They handled their business by earning respect and gunning down anyone who stood in their way. Cowboys were the first guys to have the balls to be lawless and say fuck-all to society.” I held my cigarette between my lips and pulled up my shirt, pointing to one of the tattoos on my ribcage. “This was one of my very first tattoos.”

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