Page 26 of Not Even A Mouse
Give me a tour
Andy
“Who do you think we’ll see at thelightningceremony?”
“Lighting, honey. No lightning tonight.” Andy snugged Talya’s hat down over her hair and leaned in to kiss her cheek before closing the car door. Once in the driver seat, he settled the radio on a station playing kid versions of Christmas carols, and he and Talya sang along on their waydowntown. Tonight was the unveiling of the city’s light display, and he had promised her they’d go watch as the giant Santa was illuminated. “I don’t know who will be there. Probably some kids from school.”
“Will we see Unka Myron?”
Andy’s chest compressed as with a blow.Damn, she can pack a punch. Mentally he tried to revert to humor as he’d been doing, just getting by. In the weeks sinceMyron had walked out, Andy had run the gamut from disbelief to anger, feeling hurt down to his soul, and finally understanding. It killed him, but thanks to Bexley, he thought he finally got it.
What Andy had done was an insult not just to Myron, something his boyfriend would likely have overlooked, but it had been a challenge to Myron’s entire way of life. Andy and Bexley had talked far intothe night, and with her explanations, he thought he understood. The Rebels weren’t a gang, and weren’t even the club the newspaper article had been about. Andy had ignorantly lumped them all into the same bucket, kind of like how people did with gay men, when in fact there were as many different varieties in the LGBTQ community as jelly bean flavors. The same was true with motorcycle clubs. Now,he just needed to find a way to get Myron to talk to him again. He’d texted a dozen times, hoping to goad Myron into a response of any kind, only to be met with radio silence that made a profound statement.
“I doubt it, sweetie.”
“I miss Unka Myron, Papa.”
Me too, honey. He sighed again.Me, too. “How many lights do you think they used on Santa?” Diversion tactic number one, because since Myron’sexplanation of math and statistics—in a six-year-old version, of course—Talya had been enamored of not just counting, that would be a terrible way to generalize her interests, but in projecting answers. Andy had always known she was smart, but her ability to predict some of the things lately was astounding.
“About a hundred million.” Her voice was excited, and he laughed.Astounding, and thenshe becomes a six-year-old again.
“I agree.” He turned on his blinker, turning into the parking garage. On the second level, he passed a large grouping of motorcycles, lifting a hand when he saw a face he recognized.Brute. Heart pounding in his throat, he quickly searched the rest of the group, saddened when Myron wasn’t among them. Andy knew Fort Wayne wasn’t Myron’s home, and thanks to Bexley,he’d found out Myron had been in Chicago for days. He didn’t know why he was so disappointed.Don’t be a fool, he told himself.You know exactly why.
They had joined the crowd waiting in the plaza for the countdown to begin when he heard the laugh. He would have known it anywhere, recognized it regardless of the time between the last time he’d heard it and now. Talya heard it, too, and her faceturned up to his, joy writ large on her features.
“Unka Myron.” Arms lifted, she demanded, “Pick me up, Papa.” He did, settling her on his shoulders and within a few seconds knew she’d spotted Myron by the signal of fists beating against the top of his head. “He’s here! He’s here, Papa.”
Andy turned his head at her ungentle directions, the tugging at his hair no match for the terror that hadhis stomach flipping over in his belly. Would Myron want to see them?See me?Across the crowd, he spotted the group of bikers, black leather broken by bright scarves andtoboggans, children in poses matching Talya’s, riding on broad shoulders. Myron stood to the side, staring up at the unlit display, a smile on his face.
“I wanna see Unka Myron,” Talya’s cry was imperious, and Andy laughed asher flailing legs escaped his grip, a shoe nearly catching him in the face. “I wanna.”
“Okay.”He loves Talya. Myron would want to see her, even if he didn’t give a shit about Andy anymore.
They were about halfway across the plaza when the lights went on. Talya twisted on his shoulders and thumped his head again. “Oh, Papa. It’s so beautiful.” Myron’s head was tipped back, his eyes on the samedisplay, a child’s pleasure on his face mirroring the expression Andy knew had to be on Talya’s.
“Yeah, it is.”
They were within a few yards when one of the bikers caught sight of Andy and called out, “Mouse.” That had Myron’s head swinging madly from side to side until his gaze latched onto Andy and Talya. Andy froze for a moment, the sudden cessation of movement causing Talya to rock on hisshoulders. Then a smile bloomed on Myron’s face, starting as a small parting of his lips and building to a beam of joy aimed Andy’s way.
“Mouse.” Brute stepped in front ofhim,and the broadness of his shoulders cut off any view of Myron. “Glad to see your little girl’s okay.”
Andy nodded and stepped to the side as he mouthed his thanks, surprised when Brute moved with him, blocking his path.“Remember what I said when I talked to you at the bar?” Andy’s chin jerked back, and he gripped Talya’s ankles firmly as he nodded. He did remember, the conversation etched in his head.“People don’t fuck with my friends, or I fuck them back. You hurt mine, I hurt you. Simple as that.”He knew Brute hadn’t been exaggerating then, and knew what the man was saying now. “That coversallmy friends.”
“I get it.” He held Brute’s gaze. “I totally get it.”
“Unka Myron, did you see? Papa’s here.” Talya’s flailing had her slippingsideways,and Andy shrugged, trying to straightenher,but Myron pushed around Brute, shoving him to the side with a glare as he reached up, hands catching Talya under her arms. Brute moved away, giving Andy a final scowl over his shoulder.
“Hey, sweetness.” Myron pulledherclose,and Talya’s arms closed around his neck, holding tight. Myron’s eyes closed as he kissed the side of her head, and Andy’s throat closedat the sight.
“The lights are pretty.” She leaned back and twisted again, lifting one hand to point, her finger trembling. “See?”
“Not as pretty as you are, honey.” Myron shiftedherso she rode one hip, her legs wrapping around his waist. “Are youcold?”
Andy stared, then asked, “Where are your mittens?”Well, crap. Her hat was gone, too; lostin the rushto cross the plaza, no doubt.
“I’m cold, Papa.” She shivered, not exaggerating the chill, but just cold.
Myron handed her back to Andy, the transfer happening as naturally as if it were something they’d done a thousand times. He gripped Andy’s hand for a moment, thestrong holdsteadyingas much as it was thrilling. “Hang on, I got you, honey.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders, tucking the excess around her sides. The Rebel’s symbol was sewn to the back of the jacket, and from Andy’s perspective, looked as if it were an emblazoned warning, like the club itself would protect her, even if it were only from the cold. That backed up exactlywhat Bexley had told him.Why didn’t I see it before?Myron murmured to Talya, “Better?” She nodded, the top of her head knocking against Andy’s chin. “How’s she doing?” Myron’s gaze trailed down then back up, and Andy felt the path of that look like a touch. Then Myron leaned close to kiss Talya’s headagain,and the scent of him hit Andy’s nose, sensory overload pushing him back in time to thelast night they’d spent in bed together. Myron’s head lifted, and his gaze locked to Andy’s, heat filling his eyes. “How are you?”
