Page 16 of Scythe's Salvation
“One of my club brothers’ ol’ lady recommended her as a massage therapist after I hurt my back when I fell off a ladder,” I reply. “When I met her, she intrigued me, and I decided I wanted to get to know her outside of a professional relationship.”
She glances over to where Tamara is working on the coleslaw and hollers, “Girl, I told you, no happy endings for your customers!”
At that, I burst out laughing as Tamara groans and thunks her head on the table. “Memaw, really?” she queries. “I’ve never done that in my life!”
More’s the pity, but I’m hoping somewhere down the road it’ll happen to me, that’s for damn sure. “Okay, so you met our girl and now you want to date her? Do bikers even date? You realize she’s a package deal, her and Chance.”
“I’m aware, Hester, and am quite happy with the fact that my little buddy likes to fish as much as I did at that age.”
“So, you wouldn’t try to ditch him? Because there’ve been a few men sniffing around my girl but when they hear she’s got a kid, even if they’ve not met him yet, they either try to get her to ditch him somehow, or they blow her off. She needs a man who isn’t going to run at the first sign of trouble, who’s willing to treat her boy as his own, especially if other kids come down the line.”
The thought of Tamara’s belly swollen with my child brings my dick to attention. I can already tell from our time at the lake today that she’s a good mom, and surprisingly, the thought of being ‘tied down’ to one woman for the rest of my life doesn’t make me gag. Shit. I’ve already fallen for her; she’s the total package, curvy, smart, talented.
“Something neither of you know is I was raised in foster care until I ran away when I was ten. There’s no way I’d ever try to separate that little boy from his mom. And while you are only hearing words and I know actions speak louder, I hope that you’ll eventually see that I mean what I say and never make a promise I don’t intend to keep. Tamara is mine, whether she knows it or not.”
“You’ll do,” Hester states matter of factly, handing me a platter full of lightly browned fish. “Take that to the table while I fry up these puppies.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, hiding my smirk at her approval. She’s blunt and to the point, but I’ve gathered from the things Amara asked, as well as Hester, that Tamara’s been let down by a lot of people in her life. I don’t intend to be one of them.
CHAPTER
TEN
Tamara
I honestly don’t thinkI’ve laughed as hard as I have today. Scythe fits in like he’s always been around and part of the family. When Amara told me he got her mother’s seal of approval, I realized that whatever it is that I’ve been feeling for him isn’t one-sided. A knock at the door has all of us pausing as Amara shouts she’ll get it. When she calls out my name, I stand, puzzled because while this was my address for a few years, I’ve been in my own place for quite some time now.
“What’s going on?” I ask as I approach the open door.
A man asks, “Are you Tamara Fruge?” At my nod, he hands me an envelope and says, “You’ve been served.”
Staring at the envelope in horror, I don’t hear the voices around me. No, I’m remembering one of my recent clients. “He did it, he really did it,” I whisper.
“Who did what, Tam? Talk to me, dammit,” Amara insists as she leads me back to the table.
I notice that Chance is missing, and Scythe says, “Hester took him out to feed the brood, whatever that means.”
Despite the terror that’s coiling around my heart, I smile. “They’ve got a little of this and a little of that, but she told me one of the sows had a litter, so I bet she’s taking him to see the babies.”
“Okay, I’m in the dark here, so tell me what’s going on, or tell me to leave,” Scythe states, nodding at the envelope.
“So, Amara found a booking system that allows new clients to set up appointments. It coordinates somehow with my calendar system so I’m not double booking, and it frees me up to do other things,” I say, taking a sip of my lemonade. “Anyhow, a few days ago, I saw I had a new client but didn’t think anything of it, you know?” He and Amara nod, her hand now clasping my forearm. “So, I walked into the room ready to give my spiel like I did with you, Scythe, only… only…” I find myself having a hard time breathing all of a sudden; I’ve never had a panic attack before, but I suspect I’m on the verge of one now.
Scythe gently pushes my head down between my knees and says, “Just breathe, babe. Take your time. Okay, breathe in, hold it, now exhale.” We do that a few times until I feel calmer and the darkness that was shrouding me dissipates slightly.
“Amara, it was Timmy,” I whisper, fear choking me again. “He’s seen me around town, and because he’s got a wife and two kids, he wants to have a relationship with Chance. I told him he lost that right when he bailed after I told him I was pregnant.”
“He sure the fuck did!” Amara’s vehement response doesn’t surprise me at all. “So, what did he say then?”
“He told me I’d better get ready for the fight of my life. I can’t lose my son, I just can’t.” Tears are now running down my face and it doesn’t escape me that Scythe now has me in his lap, his arms securely banded around my body as emotion swamps me.
“You won’t. Who is this fucker? I’ll have one of my brothers check him out,” Scythe rumbles.
“Timmy… er, Tim Jones. He used to live here and was my high school boyfriend until I got pregnant, and he bailed on me and refused to answer my calls,” I reply. “Then he skipped town, and I hadn’t heard from him since, until a few days ago when he cornered me at the parlor.”
“So, you’ve been raising this little guy on your own? Without any monetary support or parental visits from him?” Scythe asks. “Seems to me, he could be charged with abandonment. I don’t think he’s got the legs to stand on that he thinks he does. Now, let’s open the letter and see what it says.”
With trembling fingers, I try to open it and fail multiple times before Amara takes it from me and quickly slits the top with a butter knife before she pulls a piece of paper out. “Okay, it’s a court order that’s compelling you to provide Chance’s DNA. It appears that good ol’ Timmy boy wants custody or visitation or some shit like that,” she snarls.
