Page 63 of Lady Sings the Blues

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I got it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight? We just got engaged.”

“So I can’t testify against you or whatever.”

In one move, Beau releases his hold, but pins my arms above my head as he rolls on top of me. “Is that what you think I meant? No. Never. I meant if you’re in, you’re all in. I want every part of you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeahoh. Since the day I met you at the Whippy Dip I knew I was gonna marry you. But part of your punishment is that it happens faster than you probably plan on.”

I’m quiet for a moment, maybe two. Those strong hands of his release mine and bring them to hook around his neck while he traces a line of sweet kisses down my jaw. With every press of his lips I feel safer, yet more scared than I ever remember feeling in my life. What am I getting myself into, really getting myself into? This I want to ask, this deserves an answer yet instead of throwing myself under that bus I chicken out. “When did my dad join the club?” I question instead.

He answers immediately. “Wasn’t an official member. Especially at that time, the club needed someone they could trust, which your pops was more than willin’ to fill that role. But with havin’ a practice in town and all…” Beau’s arms loosen just a bit as his words trail off. This I find disturbing on some level, because well, we just got engaged. His arms shouldn’t be loosening for any reason.

If I were any other woman, I’d realize that his words trailing off and arms loosening probably means he’s uncomfortable or even sad. Unfortunately for him, I’m not another woman. I’m me. And in being me, I venture forward with another uncomfortable question, and I know for sure it’s uncomfortable when he tenses just the briefest of seconds before he regains control of his emotions. “How is it that you’re the VP? Aren’t you a bit, well, a bit young to be a VP?”

“Yeah,” he laughs humorlessly.

“Yeah? That’s it? Care to expound?”

“Not really, not tonight.”

“Beau, I just agreed to marry you and still you don’t trust me?”

“No, not that, darlin’. Just, especially tonight with you just agreein’ to marry me, this shit’s…unpleasant to say the least.”

“Okay,” I mummer and turn away, tucking my hands under my pillow to lift it closer against my face.

“Shit—alright. Okay.” He sighs sadly before starting up again. “You remember your pops’ friend Rex?”

I turn back to him and nod. “I met him only a few times. Whenever he and my dad hung out, they’d do it away from the house.”

“Not surprised. Your pops wanted to keep you away from all that shit.”

“Shit?”

“Rex was your pops best friend all his life. When they were teens and your pops went off to college, Rex became a prospect with the Lords. Their lives took ‘em in different directions, your pop to medical school, a husband and eventually a father. For Rex, his eventually led him to becomin’ our prez.”

When he stops talking, I suck in a breath.

“He was also Duke’s older brother.” Beau finishes.

“Really?”

He nods. “Really. The club was located farther outside town then. Almost to the edge of the county. Anywho, the club was into some bad shit back then, baby girl. Bad shit. I won’t go into it, but if you ever watched any TV shows or movies about outlaw biker gangs, that’d be about right.”

Inside, I’m freaking right the hell out. But somehow, somehow I know that if he senses it, he’ll shut down and likely never open back up. To keep our conversation flowing, I push back any thoughts of a freak out, and nod my head to tell him I understand and to continue.

“We were at war with the Horde for years over territory, this was before I came in at the end. Shit got real, too real. Brothers ended up dyin’, a lot of brothers ended up dyin’ includin’ their prez and ours. Hell, the only one of his lieutenants left standin’ was Duke and that’s only cuz he’d taken a leave of absence. Dawna’s cancer had come back and he’d been stayin’ outside Chicago while Dawna got some specialized treatment from that big cancer hospital up there.”

“I know the one.” My response feels as stupid as it sounds, as the big cancer hospital is hardly the point of this story.

If my stupidity bothers him he doesn’t show it. “I’d been hangin’ at Lady a lot back then, drinkin’ my pain away.” He continues on. “Logan dead, you just gone. The baby. It was all too much. I was lost. Couldn’t go back to school. Everything just—well, since I was such a hanger-on, some of the brothers looked to recruit me. I was all alone and they offered me a place, a family. So I took ‘em up on it. Was a prospect when the big shit went down. I won’t go into what I saw or what I had to do to stay alive. You don’t need those images in your head and I never want you to think of me as anything but the Beau you know. This ain’t up for negotiation. Take it or leave it.”

“Okay,” I tell him right away, figuring I’ll eventually find out, but if he’s not in the mind frame to share yet, who am I to force the issue? “I’ll take it.”

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