The Long Ride (7 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Five years later

Chelsea answered the front door and said, "Hi
, daddy."

"You know, Chelsea," her father said as he came inside, "Most people have a guest room, not a guest house."

She grinned. "You could have slept on the couch. It is very comfortable, or so I hear," she said as she closed the door behind him.

Her father lifted an eyebrow. "Lover's spats?"

"Not with me, but it was mentioned in that context I believe," she said with a smirk.

"Grandpa!" said three-year-old Julia as she ran out of her room and down the hallway, arms open for a hug long before she was close enough to get one.

Her father swooped her up into his arms and Chelsea watched them rub noses and playfully tweak each other's ear lobes.

"Can we go swimming?" Julia asked.

"Maybe after lunch," her father said. "If mommy says it is alright."

Chelsea lifted a finger at her daughter as she spun her head, question loaded to fire. "Don't ask right now. We'll see after lunch, Julia."

"Aww." Julie pouted, but quickly brightened and turned back to her grandpa. "I'm drawing pictures for you. Come see?"

"Alright," he replied with a nod.

Cheslea watched her father carry Julia down the hallway to her room, which at one time was the guest room, and for a time, her room. She bit her lip, wondering exactly how happy a woman could be during a single day.

It wasn't her father's first visit. He came down from Boston for the wedding, and then for Julia's birth, and for each of Julia's birthdays since then. Elias has told him several times that if he wished to visit more often, they would gladly help with the travel expenses, but her father only shrugged and never brought the matter up.

She went into Elias' office. "Dad's here."

"I heard the squealing announcement." Elias nodded with a grin, remaining focused on his computer screen.

She sat down lightly on his lap and searched his eyes. "Do you miss being more involved with the club business?"

He glanced at her and said, "Not really, no. Eric is doing a fine job, and the club is running smooth. We ride at least twice a month with two long trips every year."

"What about the security stuff, and the bodyguard stuff. You use to love that, didn't you?" she asked.

He reached out and powered his computer screen down, and then leaned back in his chair to look at her, "What's bringing this on?"

"Nothing—not really. I found myself out there looking at dad and Julia, being deeply happy, and I would like you to be deeply happy with our life as well. I don't want you to feel like you have to give things up for us."

He studied her eyes and then kissed her lips. "I haven't given up a thing I didn't get tenfold back with you."

"But… then you did give it up for us," she said.

"No," he said shaking his head. "No, that's not the way of it at all."

"What's the way of it, then?"

Elias thought for a moment, and then said, "There's an edge you have to keep in order to do that kind of work. To keep that edge, you have to possess a sort of carefree attitude regarding your own life. You have to be able to take risks, to make split-second decisions with less than perfect information."

He brushed a lock of her hair back from her face, with a gentle caress. "When I saw you with Julia for the first time, I knew I didn't have that carefree attitude any longer. I would never be able to take risks again, not like I was willing to do in the past. I wanted to grow old, watch Julia grow up, meet her first boy friend, see her go to college. So, it was over. It just was. Things I thought were important were suddenly trivial, and things I thought were niceties in life, like financial security, and planning a future, were suddenly, absolutely, important."

"That's why I gave up the Sergeant at Arms position, and why I don't do the bodyguard work anymore except as an adviser, and why I'm very content and happy with those decisions. So, no, I didn't give anything up. I just let the dead weight fall to the side of the road."

"Are you happy, Elias?" she asked.

"Very. So very, very happy. But I would be happier if I could finish my work day now." He smirked.

She playfully slapped his shoulder. "Brat. I was trying to have a moment."

"We'll have a moment when you get back from Doc's, how about that?"

"I may not want one then," she teased, and got out of his lap. "Do the voodoo that you do. I have to get going anyway."

"Taking the bike?"

"I thought it would be nice. Dad is jealous as hell, still."

"I would buy him five if he would accept them," Elias said, flicking back on his computer monitor.

"I know. He's just…"

"He's just a man, like me, and the rest of the brothers. We like earning our own way, and don't enjoy handouts," Elias finished for her.

"Something like that, yeah," she agreed.

The Dyna Low Rider was the most fulfilling ride she had ever experienced. The tank and frame had a custom paint job, done by Elias. The bike was his wedding present to her. The base color was a blended metallic blue which shone with a reddish gold in the light. Painted on the tank was a phoenix, rising up from a torrent of flames, and the vanity plate read "PHENX."

She loved the bike. Loved it and rode it as often as she could, which wasn't as often since Julia arrived in their lives, bringing with her things like mini-vans, diaper bags, and car seats.

Wearing leather pants and a tight, laced-up leather vest with no shirt or bra, she mounted the bike, adjusted her helmet and sunglasses, then idled the bike out of the backyard and to the road. There she checked the street, and then with a grin of pure joy, opened the throttle, and let the big engine roar her down the street toward Doc's office. She passed the Log Cabin and saw a few people waving. She returned the greeting, but didn't slow down. Hitting the boulevard, she glided through traffic, feeling the Texas sun warm her skin almost as fast as the wind cooled her.

Entering Doc's office, she gave Maria a smile and asked, "Is she ready for me?"

"Yep, her last client left a few minutes ago," Maria assured her.

Chelsea nodded and went into the office, closing the door behind her.

She met with Doc only once a month now. Most of the time it was just a quick talk about how the meds were working. She'd had four major med changes, but the last set seemed to be holding up. Her focus and memory were clear. She rarely had an episode anymore, and her sleep was sound and refreshing. Sex wasn't a problem. Sometimes social gatherings made her feel a little uneasy, and sometimes thoughts about Julia being hurt or injured would plague her. But none of these things were strong or overbearing any longer.

When Julia was first born, Chelsea was terrified her child would be hurt or kidnapped by someone. She spent many sleepless days and nights sitting in Julia's room by the crib, protecting her. From what, she didn't know, but she couldn't leave. She even had a gun in there with her, though she hid it from Elias. But after a few months, that passed, and it didn’t return.

"Hello, Chelsea," Doc said as Chelsea sat down in the chair across the desk from her. "How are you felling?"

"Very real," Chelsea told her. "Very real."

They talked for a bit, and then Doc brought the subject over to her father’s visit, which was a major minefield since his first visit for the wedding.

“I’m still not ready to discuss this with him. He knows something happened, and that I’m seeing you and taking meds. But I just can’t tell him the details, or even the highlights.” Chelsea confessed.

“You don’t think he’ll understand?” Doc inquired.

“No, I think he’ll understand perfectly, but there’s nothing for him to do. The cause is solved, and buried. The damage is still real, and present, but he can’t do anything about that. What am I going to accomplish handing him an emotional ball of shit like this, when there is no way for him to get it back off his hands?”

“So, you are protecting him,” Doc pressed.

“I’m protecting both of us! I can’t stand the thought of him looking at me with shame and pain for things he had no piece of, or worse, trying to hide his shame and pain. Seriously, when does crap like that get fun?”

“Chelsea, you have come a long ways, and your father’s visits have been good mile markers for us. His visit for your wedding, for example, you were terrified to tell him what
you had become
. Do you remember thinking like that? You took it all on as your responsibility. You
let
them do this to you. You firmly believed that you
agreed
to be that way.”

Chelsea wiped at her eyes, “Yes, I remember that.”

“So, Chelsea, you’re right, it probably isn’t something you want to lay at your father’s feet, and say ‘here you go, deal with it’. But your reasons for not wanting to do so are so very far from where you began. And that’s why I asked.”

Chelsea thought about that and then nodded her understanding, “I haven’t felt like it was my fault in a long time.”

“Which is quite the rise for you,” Doc agreed. “So, Julia is three now, and running around the house, waking-up to crawl into bed with you at odd hours — how’s the sex life?”

Chelsea looked at her watch, “About to get better in thirty minutes.”

***

As soon as Julia was in the pool, Chelsea hurried to the office and pulled on Elias’ arm, “Come on, now,” she growled playfully.”

“Just a minute, let me finish with —”

“No! I’ll make it up with sweat labor at the bar if you want. We don’t have a minute,” she laughed, and yanked on him hard.

“I’m going to tickle you until you pee if you don’t cut it out,” he told her.

“Fine, but after,” she said, and yanked again.

“Done,” he said with a voice of victory, and for a moment she thought he was agreeing to the deal, and really intended to tickle her until she lost bladder control.

“Meep!” she squeaked, but then noticed that the
transfer completion
message was on the screen, meaning he was
done
with the transaction she was interrupting.

“What?” he asked, getting up, and coming at her.

“Nothing,” she lied innocently, and then grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom.

She began undressing before she reached their door, throwing her shirt and bra toward the closet as she crossed the threshold. Then starting on her pants, “Hurry up!” she hissed at him. “You know she’s going to have to tell us something soon!”

She got her blue jeans off and charged at him, as he was unzipping his. She reached in with well-practiced grace, and pulled his cock out, “You know what?” she teased, stroking him, “Just do me against the fucking wall, you slow old man.”

“Old huh?” he laughed.

And then she was spinning, and pressed against the wall beside the closed door, “Wee!” she squealed, her hair flying as she turned.

She lifted her ass as soon as she felt him, and then he rammed his cock into her with beautiful velocity. “Oh fucking sweetness!” she growled, her hands rubbing and clawing at the wall as he started pounding into her. “God I love you and your fucking cock,” she moaned, and pressed back with each of his thrusts.