Page 11 of Tru Blue
The Whiskey family owned the garage as well as Whiskey Bro’s, the bar down the road. Bear and Dixie worked days in the auto shop office and some evenings at the bar.
“Mine, now.” Truman pulled a burp rag from his back pocket and tossed it over his shoulder, then shifted Lincoln and patted his back. This morning the baby had spit up all over his shirt when he’d forgotten the burp rag. Gemma would probably roll her eyes at that, too.
Bear flashed a wise-ass grin. “Thought you couldn’t have conjugal visits in prison.”
“They’re my siblings,” Truman said sharply. Lincoln let out a loud burp. “That’s a good boy.”
“What do you mean they’re your siblings?” Dixie crouched by Kennedy. “And what’s this precious girl’s name? Hi, sweetie. I’m Auntie Dixie.”
Kennedy frowned as Dixie picked up a toy from the playpen.
“It’s okay, princess,” Truman reassured her. “Aunt Dixie has funny hair, but she’s nice.”
Dixie stuck her tongue out at him and Kennedy giggled.
“That’s Kennedy, and this little guy is Lincoln.” He met Bear’s serious gaze and lowered his voice so Kennedy wouldn’t hear him. “My brother decided to resurface last night. Our mother overdosed. He was a mess, and these two were living in a crack house. Last night was a nightmare. You don’t mind if I keep them here in the shop with me, do you? Just until I get things under control?”
“Hey, your family is our family. Whatever you need.” Bear ran a hand through his thick dark hair. He and his siblings, Dixie, Bullet, and Bones, were part of the Dark Knights motorcycle club, and with the exception of Dixie, the names they used were their biker names. Bear had once wrestled a bear, and he had the scars to prove it. Bullet was ex-Special Forces, and Bones was a doctor.
Truman had grown up in the next town over, and he’d met Bear at a classic car show when he was just sixteen. Bear had taken Truman under his wing, given him a job, and taught him how to work on cars. He’d worked around whatever schedule Truman had been able to keep and had knocked the sense back into him every time he’d strayed even slightly from the straight-and-narrow path, like by skipping school to work. He’d even allowed Truman to bring Quincy with him to the shop, since their no-good mother was never around to take care of him. Once Truman had learned to drive, Bear had lent him a car, eventually selling him the truck he now used, and they’d been close as brothers ever since. The Whiskeys were the nicest, most reliable people Truman had ever known, and he was proud to be considered part of their family.
“What’s the plan?” Bear asked. “And how’s Quincy?”
Truman sighed. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop wondering that himself. He’d called his brother before going to sleep last night, but hadn’t heard back.
“My plan? Make sure their lives don’t suck, and as far as Quincy goes, I already threw years of my life away so he could have a life.”
“And…?” Bear knew him so well. Unlike Truman’s no-good mother, Bear had visited him weekly when he was in prison, and he’d brought Quincy a time or two. But Quincy had stopped returning Bear’s calls, and eventually he’d fallen completely off the radar. Truman knew how hard Bear had tried to find Quincy and get him on a cleaner path, but users knew how to disappear, and Quincy had learned from the best.
“I tried to call him last night,” Truman admitted. “He hasn’t returned my calls, but in fairness, I told him to stay away from the kids until he’s clean. I’ll help him when he’s ready, but, man…” He cradled Lincoln in his arms and kissed his cheek. “They don’t even have birth certificates. He never even told me they existed, and the way he let them live…” He ground his teeth together in an effort to bury the anger simmering inside him. “He can’t be trusted around them.”
Bear put a hand on his back. “I hear ya, bro.”
“Listen, do you think Bones can get a pediatrician to check them out, no questions asked? Just until I get my arms around what to do. If I bring them in to a doctor, they’ll ask all sorts of questions, and there’s no way I’m letting them get tied up with Social Services. I just need a little time to figure things out, but I have to know they’re healthy.”
