Page 6 of Rox

A mish-mash of my name can be heard for miles as my siblings realize I’ve stepped into their domain. They’ve been the best gifts my parents could ever give me. I cried when they told me they were done due to complications. I love every single one of them.

“Yes, yes. I’m here. I know you were waiting for the best person ever to arrive.”

“But Duck’s already here,” Belle states matter-of-factly as I roll my eyes at her.

“What did he bring you this time?” It’s how he gets them. He always brings over some kind of treat or small game, anything he can think of. He says it’s because he wants to spoil them because he doesn’t have any other family, but I know it’s because he wants them to love him most.

“Cake!” Remy yells out, officially stopping Belle from not answering. I would have found out anyway. I give the rest of my siblings their own dose of attention, which includes hugs, kisses, tickles, and a wedgie because I owed Flynnly one from last week when she grabbed my thong and attempted to pull it over my head.

“Kids, come on. Get your booties to the table. Dinner’s ready!” I hear my mom call out. I make my way to the kitchen, and I see everyone around the table. My parents are setting all of the food on the island for a serving train. The kid’s plates are already made and at their table. They all are seated and digging in before I can register who is even here. Taking a moment, I look around to see who is going to witness my embarrassment firsthand again.

Surprisingly, it isn’t the whole club. Besides my parents, there are only three guys here. Angel and Duck are on one side, currently facing me. The other one is sitting next to me. Well, he will be once I’m seated. I don’t see his face yet, but I don’t have to. I know exactly who it is.

Mimic.

For the club’s Enforcer, he’s quiet and keeps to himself. It’s hard to picture him in my dad’s old role. But then again, I’m also not supposed to know what it is they do. Neither is my mom, yet here we are. Although, after everything went down in Wyman, things haven’t been anywhere near what that clusterfuck was. I know my dad’s club deals in some shady shit, but I’ve stayed out of most of the details because I realized that knowing didn’t make me happy. But it doesn’t change the fact that I know Mimic’s job is to fuck people up, and it’s hard to see him do that.

Taking a deep breath, I make my way to my seat. “Hey, y’all,” I smile as I sit down.

“Hey, Roxie. I brought cake!” Duck says cheerfully, and I can’t be mad at him. Sure, he’s trying to win bonus points, but I can also see that he truly enjoys being around the family as much as he can be. Duck is definitely the fun uncle here. Always getting the fun toys and treats—I remember catching him sneaking some to the kids one Sunday when Mom and Dad told my siblings no. But now that I was out of the house, it was a fun competition between us.

“Remy told me that, though we agreed that family dinners were off limits for bribes.” I poke his side as I approach.

“All’s fair in love and war, babe.” The name earned him a cuff upside the head from Angel, but he pushed on. “Plus, it’s not much of a bribe when they already acknowledge me as the best one. I mean, come on. Look at me. I am the best.” I can’t help but roll my eyes.

I give him a smack upside the head as I lean to give Angel a peck on the cheek before taking my seat next to Mimic. I give a smile, kinda getting sucked into the ice blue of his eyes. Mimic is quiet and keeps most things to his chest. That in itself draws me to him. Also, it doesn’t hurt that he is conventionally attractive. His deep eyes look like they hold the answers to all the world’s problems. Along with the fact he was built. I have seen him tossing bales more than once in the barn without his shirt on. He was full-on man candy, that’s for sure.

He was a more recent addition to the MC brotherhood. Omen and Angel were there for me growing up. The others followed within the first five-ish years of us setting up. Mimic showed up just past my eighteenth birthday. He was hired by Mom as farm help for the horses, but he caught Dad’s eye when he noticed the military pack Mimic carried. It wasn’t long until he worked his way up in Dad’s graces and was an officer in the MC.

The contrast of the people at this table makes me smile. It doesn’t matter what personality you have, where you came from, or what you have been through; you were accepted here. I loved growing up with a family that wasn’t my blood. It made it that much more special.

Dinner seems to be going smoothly. Everyone is focused more on the food in front of them rather than carrying on a conversation. As I’m shoveling the last of the chicken into my mouth, Dad clears his throat to get the attention on him. I look at Mom first, and the look on her face has my guard up. I know what’s coming.

“So,” he starts, dropping his fork on his empty plate. “I hear that you have started at a new tattoo shop.” he finishes as he steeples his hands in front of his face, his eyes on me.

I take my time, slowly chewing the food in my mouth, trying to decide how I want to steer this conversation. But it’s lookinglike no matter what road I take, there are going to be hurt feelings. I am almost certain they’re going to be mine.

“Dizz, we have company. Let’s not.” Mom says in a soft suggestion while simultaneously trying to signal to the brothers at the table.

“Why not? They are family, too. They should hear about her new job and how it’s going. I am upset I had to hear about it from Stanford and not my own daughter. But hey, I’m just the money guy, right?” He makes it seem like no big deal in his tone, but really, I know he is trying to make me feel guilty. I can’t help the humorless laugh that bubbles up when I finally swallow.

“Money guy? Really? I am living in a house with the money I’ve made and the money I am currently earning. If you had your way, I would still be here doing what you thought was best rather than what I know is best for me.” I toss my fork down and cross my arms over my chest.

“You are a child. You’ve barely gotten your feet wet in the real world. I know what’s best for you. Having a plan for a stable future—” Dad starts getting loud but is cut off by my siblings taking that as their cue to bail out of the kitchen.

“Uh, ya… Imma follow their lead.” Duck quickly pushes out from the table. “Hey guys, wait for me!”

“Roxie, your father is just worried because the artistic professions aren’t guaranteed in life. Look at how hard Angel had to work to get where he is. Ten years of fighting.” Mom explains softly, racing to touch my shoulder, but I jerk my body away, accidentally hitting Mimic.

“Okay, you know what? I came here ready for this fight. I came here knowing this was going to happen. I sat in my tub the other night, and I went back and forth with myself about all possible ways this could go. I came to the conclusion I was going to be the bigger person, and I was going to listen to what was said, go back and forth, and talk this out as adults. But now?Now I say, fuck this. Fuck all of this. I don’t care that Angel had to fight for years to get where he is. I don’t care if the field I want to be in will be hard and might not be successful. I’m not doing this for the money. I’m doing it because it’s what I want to do. It’s what makes me happy. I’m not going to go into debt because you think I need to have a backup plan. Because what happens if I don’t need a backup?”

“And what if you do?” my dad screams out.

“Then I worry about it then!” I yell right back. “I’ve been working my ass off to get to the level of artistry I’m already at. I’ve already taken extra classes and learned everything I can to make this a successful career move for myself. But then you and him,” I point at Angel, “decide to say fuck what I want out of life and attempt to put me on a path you’ve carved out. This isn’t your life! It’s mine. I’m not going to sit here and become something you want and lose who I already am! So yeah, I went to another shop because Stanford at least sees what I have to offer. He sees my talent and wants me to perfect it even more. For fucks sake, you won’t even tattoo me Angel. I’m almost completely covered from the hips down because I’ve had to tattoomyself,and you still won’t tattoo me. Take it as you want to, Dad. You wanna call yourself the money man, be my guest. All I want is to call you supportive. So I guess we both aren’t getting what we want tonight.”

Dad looks stunned for a moment like he cannot believe my audacity. He doesn’t look to my mom for help, though he looks to Angel. I mentally crack my knuckles, ready to throw verbal hands in round two.

“Roxie, you have had a hard start in life. We are trying to give you a cushion for when you think you might need it.” Angel starts as he leans forward on his arms. His words are calm and calculated. “An easy life isn’t a punishment, and that’s all your dad is trying to give you. We share a few things from ourchildhood. I took the hard way in life and still am. I know you have talent. I know you have skill. But that isn’t enough in a cutthroat business. You need to be business savvy.”

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