Sometimes, late at night, I thought about the night I’d caught up with Malcolm, wishing I could do it all over again. He’d been easy to get a hold of, drunk off his fat arse in a pub not far from his mum’s. I’d had to wait until he’d sobered up to start in because I hadn’t wanted him to miss any of it or neglect to realize the reason for my visit. By the time the alcohol had mostly left his system, he was tied to a chair with a rag in his mouth, bleeding to death from the rough castration I’d performed.

It had been too quick, and I’d left feeling unsatisfied and uncomfortable in my own skin, as if I’d missed something. The feeling had plagued me for years.

It hadn’t been until after I’d arrived back in Eugene, weary and ready to be home for a while with Brenna, that I’d gotten a phone call at the shop. Phoenix had been pissed—going on and on about how I’d done something to his mother—how she’d been acting strange since I’d left, and had broken up with her boyfriend. I didn’t say much during that first call, I’d just let him take out his anger and his confusion on me over the telephone lines until he’d finally come to a ragged stop.

He’d called again a few weeks later, his anger still present.

Then again a few weeks after that, his anger mostly gone.

It went on like that for months, until one day when he called the shop, there wasn’t one heated word. Instead, he’d told me about school, and the dirt bike his mum had helped him buy. After that, he called regularly, just to visit, and I never gave any indication that his calls weren’t welcome. At first he’d been my only connection to Amy, but it hadn’t taken long before I was anxious for his calls just to know that he was doing alright. I’d begun to care for him when we’d met again in Texas, but as the calls continued, I grew to love him with a ferocity that I hadn’t understood was possible for a child that didn’t belong to me.

I knew even then that the lad had a long road ahead of him—especially in that tiny Texas town where being different wasn’t so popular. I’d breathed a sigh of relief when he and Amy had moved to Portland—a city that got off on sticking out in a crowd.

“Are you coming in for dinner? Mum’s making—”

My heart thumped hard and began to race.

“Patrick can’t stay,” Amy announced firmly with a small shake of her head.

“Yer mum’s right, I was just on my way t’rough,” I told him, respecting her choice, but hating that I couldn’t speak up. I’d never understood how my da could walk away from us without even arguing until that moment, when I knew that I’d let her push me away again without a protest.

I wasn’t about to cause a rift between her and Nix because I had the overwhelming urge to push her inside the apartment and tell her I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Through Portland?”

“Right.”

“Hey, how’s Brenna doing?” he asked, looking between his mum and I as if he knew a secret. I almost laughed at his attempt to make Amy uncomfortable. He had no idea that I’d figured it out.

“She’s healin’,” I said with a small smile. “And she’s havin’ another babe.”

“Congratulations!” Nix swung one of his long arms out and slapped my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but be proud of the self-assured man he’d become.

He was a good lad, there was no doubt about that.

I heard a small noise, and my head whipped toward Amy. I wasn’t even sure it had come from her until I saw the frown on her face.

“She’s pregnant?” she asked sympathetically.

“Aye,” I answered, confused for a moment. “She and Dragon—a lad from de club—are havin’ anot’er.”

“Wait, what?”

“They have me oldest granddaughter, and now another on de way.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly, her face still confused.

“It’s a long ass story, Mum,” Nix said, taking off his coat as he moved inside.

“Well, it was nice to see you again Patrick,” Amy declared abruptly, as if she was afraid I’d follow Nix into the house. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I’ll call you later this week,” Nix yelled as Amy began closing the door. “My bike is rattling and I can’t figure out where the fuck it’s coming from.”

“Talk to ye soon, boyo,” I called back. Then I met Amy’s guarded eyes and gave her a small nod before I forced myself to walk away.

I’d been anxious to see her, and thankful that I’d been given a reason to do so … but as I left her apartment complex that evening, I wondered if it would have been better if I’d not seen her at all. The pain I’d felt in my chest the last time she’d ordered me from her house came back with startling intensity as I climbed on my bike.

Christ, when would I stop having such a visceral reaction to the woman? I had any pussy I wanted at the club, my vice-president patch and big cock enough of an aphrodisiac for any of the whores—but twenty minutes in the company of one woman and I wanted to either fuck only her forever or be celibate for the rest of my bloody life.

When I looked at her, I didn’t see the forty-year-old woman with laugh lines bracketing her eyes and mouth. I saw her at eighteen, smooth skinned and adoring as she’d looked at me from inside my sheets.

I missed the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her, and the ache for her didn’t fade no matter how long we’d spent apart.