His Old Lady (Patches: Tarkio MC Book 2) Read online

  His Old Lady

  Patches: Tarkio MC series, Book 2

  By

  Debra Kayn

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  His Old Lady

  Patches: Tarkio MC series, Book 2

  1st release: Copyright©2020DebraKayn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Debra Kayn. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  www.debrakayn.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue | Curley | 1975

  Chapter 1 | Curley | 1991

  Chapter 2 | Faye

  Chapter 3 | Faye

  Chapter 4 | Curley

  Chapter 5 | Faye

  Chapter 6 | Curley

  Chapter 7 | Faye

  Chapter 8 | Curley

  Chapter 9 | Faye

  Chapter 10 | Curley

  Chapter 11 | Faye

  Chapter 12 | Faye

  Chapter 13 | Curley

  Chapter 14 | Curley

  Chapter 15 | Faye

  Chapter 16 | Curley

  Chapter 17 | Faye

  Chapter 18 | Curley

  Chapter 19 | Faye

  Chapter 20 | Curley

  Chapter 21 | Faye

  Chapter 22 | Curley

  Chapter 23 | Faye

  Chapter 24 | Curley

  Chapter 25 | Faye

  Chapter 26 | Curley

  Chapter 27 | Faye

  Chapter 28 | Curley

  Chapter 29 | Faye

  Chapter 30 | Curley

  Chapter 31 | Faye

  Chapter 32 | Faye

  Chapter 33 | Curley

  Chapter 34 | Faye

  Chapter 35 | Curley

  Chapter 36 | Faye

  Chapter 37 | Curley

  Chapter 38 | Faye

  Chapter 39 | Curley

  Chapter 40 | Faye

  Chapter 41 | Curley

  Epilogue | Curley | Winter 1991

  Author Bio

  Debra Kayn's Backlist

  Enjoy the 1st chapter of Chasing His Fox, book 1 in the completed Choices: Tarkio MC series that is available at all retailers!

  Chasing His Fox by Debra Kayn | Part One | Chapter 1 | Scarlett | May 1982

  Dedication

  M — I can't wait to watch you succeed and get rich.

  Just remember to water and nurture...and remember your momma!

  Prologue

  Curley

  1975

  The president of Tarkio Motorcycle Club pulled into the driveway of Rock Greer's house. Curley, having arrived ten minutes earlier, made no move to get off his motorcycle. The devil was pushing his back.

  He'd do anything not to walk inside the house and give bad news to a little girl that deserved a fucking break in life.

  Today was going to add one more shit thing on Faye Walker's slender shoulders that she would have to live with for the rest of her life.

  Nobody promised him the vice president spot in Tarkio Motorcycle Club would be all willing women, endless parties, and open roads. But today, he'd give his soul away to protect the little girl inside the house from what was going to upset her world.

  "It should've been me, Prez," he whispered. "God damnit. It should've been fucking me."

  "You know what Walker wanted to do."

  "How am I supposed to live with that, huh?" He closed his eyes an extra beat, trying to unsee Walker locking his gaze on him as the Feds hauled his MC brother away.

  "I can talk to Faye." Priest stood, gazing at the house.

  Curley stared at the single-story home. Faye played inside with her friend, Tracy, doing what eight-year-old girls do when together. She had no idea what happened to her Uncle Walker only hours ago.

  Walker was his best friend. His loyal brother. The closest thing he had to family.

  During today's run for Tarkio, Walker had ridden beside him until the Feds surrounded the members and ordered each one of them by gunpoint to get down on the ground. Aware of the truckload of black-market parts ten miles ahead of them on the freeway, heading toward Lagsturns MC, his only thought was that the dumbasses had missed their chance at arresting them.

  None of the members had anything on them during the run, except their weapons. At the first sign of flashing lights, the members with a criminal record handed their pistols off to the members that were legal to carry without slowing down.

  He was sure the men were safe from arrest, thanks to Montana's concealed weapons law.

  As they'd pulled over to the side of the highway, Walker had slipped Curley his pistol because of having a past and spending a year in prison as an eighteen-year-old for something stupid.

  But the Feds rolled up, pushing the state police away from the scene, and had come gunning for Walker. They took him in for two counts of premeditated murder. Depending on what the jury decided when they finally marched him in front of the judge, Walker was looking at twenty-five years to life in prison.

  Shaking his head, he needed to put the takedown away for the next few hours and deal with Faye.

  "I gave my word to Walker. I'm going to take care of his family." He got off his Harley. "It's going to fuck up that little girl's life, not having her uncle Walker."

  "There's a grandma in the picture. She'll have to take care of Faye," said Priest.

  "Yeah, but it's Faye's great-grandma. She's seventy-five years old. How long and how efficient can she watch an eight-year-old?" Curley dug the heel of his boot into the gravel. "It's not fair to either one of them, but there's not much else that can be done unless social services get involved."

  "We could work something out within the club. I can ask around and see if someone wants to step up and take care of the kid."

  He wasn't sure that was the best choice for Faye. At any time, because of the business Tarkio was in, she could lose more people in her life. The best thing would be to get her far away from the club where nobody could fuck up her world again. At least her great-grandma would be a stable person in her life.

  "Let's cross that bridge later. Faye needs family, and right now, all we have is Grandma June." He walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

  Rock's old lady answered the door and stepped back, letting Curley enter. "She's in the bedroom, playing with Tracy."

  "Does she know anything yet?"

  She shook her head. "Rock told me to act normal and not mention what happened."

  The loss of one of their own today had hit every member hard. It was going to devastate Faye. She'd only had her uncle Walker in her life after her mom ran off when Faye was an infant. Her mom eventually overdosed in some seedy backroom of her pimp's house. There was no father in the picture. Her daddy could be any number of men in Missoula who hung out in the drug scene.

  He exhaled harshly. "I'll take her away from the house and break the news to her, so we don't upset Tracy."

  Rock's old lady rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry, Curley. I know he was like a brother to you."

&
nbsp; He dipped his chin, walked to the hallway, and cleared his throat. "Faye?"

  The patter of feet reached him before an eager face surrounded by messy, brown hair peeked out of one of the bedrooms. He crooked his finger, drawing her out.

  Faye skipped toward him, smiling with her whole face and brushing the strands of hair from her vision. Her light brown eyes filled with pure joy at seeing him, and he felt like the world's biggest dick.

  She collided with his lower half, wrapping her arms around his hips. "Are you taking me home, Uncle Curley?"

  His chest squeezed. "I'm here to take you to the clubhouse. Do you have your helmet?"

  She nodded hard enough, he wondered if she'd snap her thin, little neck. "I brought the one Uncle Roddy bought me for Christmas. I'll get it."

  Faye passed him and ran into the living room. He shook his head in agony. By the time the evening ended, he would be responsible for stealing the skip out of her walk.

  He followed her into the living room, feeling all two-hundred and twenty pounds of his weight. Rock's old lady helped Faye into her jacket, zipping her up to her chin. The weather was warm, but Faye was a child and needed extra protection.

  If a bee or large flying insect hit her during the ride, she needed her tender skin protected to keep her safe. A child reacted before her personal safety came into play, and that made riding on his motorcycle dangerous for her.

  Faye wiggled her foot into her sneaker and looked up at him, batting those innocent eyes. "Is Uncle Walker at the clubhouse?"

  Sweet Jesus. The news was going to devastate her.

  He held her gaze. "Not yet."

  Faye grabbed his hand. He was always afraid to hold onto her because her tiny fingers seemed breakable in his calloused paw.

  Running footsteps came from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and found Tracy skidding to a halt.

  "Can I go to the clubhouse, too?" Tracy held a duffle bag. "Dad can bring me home."

  "No, you need to stay here with me. Tell Faye goodbye, and you'll see her later." Tracy's mom hustled the girl out of the room the moment the two of them finished their hug and made promises, linking their pinkies together.

  Curley opened the door and led Faye outside. At his Harley, Faye looked at Priest and leaned against Curley's side.

  He lifted her onto his bike. Not comfortable having her on the back of his motorcycle, although Walker took her everywhere. He wasn't used to taking a kid on the open road.

  Faye grabbed his thick, linked necklace and pulled him down to her level. "Am I in trouble? Is Priest going to make me clean the clubhouse again?"

  Her gaze flashed to Priest before looking back at Curley. His chest tightened. If only that was the problem. She could face any punishment head-on, but taking the man who filled her whole world away from her was going to break her.

  He kissed her forehead. "Nah, you've done nothing wrong."

  "Promise?"

  "Swear on my Tarkio patch." He got on the Harley behind her, setting her where he felt more secure taking her on the ride. "We're going to go fast on the backroads. Don't squirm."

  She patted the gas tank. "I'm ready to roll, Uncle."

  Her spirit made his job even harder. Faye had dealt with more trauma in her young life than a lot of the Tarkio members had that were four times her age. With Walker raising her, Faye had a mouth like a biker, the stubbornness like a biker, and no fear like a biker.

  He swallowed hard. Even bikers crumbled. They usually came back harder and meaner than before, and that wasn't something he wanted for Faye.

  With Faye cradled in front of him, he headed toward town, using the backroads. It would do no good getting stopped by a cop twice in the same day.

  At the clubhouse, he lifted Faye off the seat and set her feet on the ground. She took off her helmet by herself and swung the child-sized brain bucket at her side, skipping to keep up with him.

  The few men in the main room left, leaving the clubhouse empty. They all knew what was going down. He couldn't blame them for not wanting to witness what was about to happen.

  Faye stopped in the middle of the room. Her little brows pulled down in a frown.

  Not often had he been inside the clubhouse when no music was playing, and all the bottles of alcohol were still behind the make-shift bar at the side of the room. Walker's absence had hit the whole club hard.

  "Uncle Curley?" Faye hugged her helmet to her stomach. "Where's Uncle Walker?"

  He walked over to the couch and patted the cushion. "Come here, Faye."

  She took tiny steps and perched on the edge of the couch, half-turned, and looked at him. Her eyes welled with tears, and she hadn't even heard what had happened yet.

  She was too smart for her own good. Already, she expected something bad. And she was right to try and protect herself.

  The news he needed to give her would destroy her.

  He blew out his breath. She was old enough to understand what happened and too young for him to explain the details of Walker's arrest to her.

  "Your Uncle Walker won't be coming home for a while." He grabbed her arm when she darted to her feet. "Stay here and let me talk."

  "I want Unc—"

  "I know you do." He shifted and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her slim body. "You'll get to see him, but not right now."

  "Where is he?"

  "He was arrested by the police, and there's a good chance he'll have to stay in prison for a while." He rubbed his lips together, feeling the weight of what transpired and his part in taking her uncle away from her.

  Right now was about Faye and seeing her settle. It wasn't about him.

  Time meant nothing at eight years old. A week felt like a lifetime. A lifetime was death. She had no concept of what awhile meant.

  Faye's chin hit her chest, and her shoulders rolled forward. His throat clamped closed. Sometimes, he hated his position within Tarkio. As the vice president, he knew the families of the members inside and out.

  Of course, he knew Walker and Faye better than the others. Most of his free time was spent at Walker's place, or Walker would come by his house, often bringing Faye if one of the women who hung around the club couldn't babysit her.

  "I'm going to take you to your grandma June tomorrow and tell her you'll be staying with her while your uncle gets things sorted. It'll be good for you to get to know her better. And for tonight, you can stay in one of the bedrooms at the clubhouse."

  "I don't want to go to Grandma June's house," she muttered. "It stinks in her house."

  He couldn't disagree with her. Old people's houses had an aroma of their own, filled with loneliness, regret, and if they were lucky, a satisfaction of a long life well-lived. But Grandma June ran a small nursery business in her backyard to help add some income to her social security check. Her house was filled with plants and flowers, giving off an earthy scent that took some getting used to.

  Faye's head straightened. "Maybe if I talk to a policeman. I-I can tell him how good Uncle Walker is, and he can tell them he's sorry and won't get in trouble again. I don't want them to take him. He's my only uncle."

  He shook his head, emotions clogging his damn throat. She wasn't the only one who wished they could talk to the Feds.

  "It doesn't work that way. Besides, every Tarkio member is your uncle. I'm still your uncle," he said.

  Her little fists swung in his direction, pounding his chest as reality and fear sunk their ugly teeth into her. "I don't like you anymore. You're not my uncle. I want my real uncle back. Give him back to me. Please. Please. Plea..."

  Faye's sobbing screams deafened him to everything else. He wrapped his arms around her small shaking body and held her tightly, one hand holding her head into the crook of his neck.

  Her tears wet his skin. He closed his eyes, but nothing would stop the burn behind his eyelids.

  He'd do anything for that little girl. She deserved more than she received in life.

  Chapter 1

  Cu
rley

  1991

  The waitress at Riverside Bar removed the two empty beer bottles from in front of Curley. He continued drinking from the mug in his hand, no calmer than when he'd walked into the place.

  "Come on, Curley." Roddy tossed cash down on the counter. "You can stay at my place."

  He stalled leaving the bar because Faye showed up at his house. His old lady—what a joke. Faye was no more his woman than he was her man.

  Just because she wanted to make his life hell whenever she showed up at the clubhouse, the other Tarkio Member indulged her. It wouldn't surprise him to find out one of them told her to stay at his house.

  Faye needed to go back to her house in Superior. Back to her job at Hot Springs Lounge and spend time growing those flowers, she was so fond of growing.

  He ran his forearm over his mouth. "I'm going home."

  "Sure?"

  Curley grunted. He was never sure of anything when it came to Faye

  Roddy slapped his shoulder. "If you plan on riding home, you better finish your beer and get out of here, or I'll be tying you to the back of my Harley and hauling you home myself."

  "I'm not leaving my Harley," he muttered. "I'm damn sure not going to let Faye wiggle her way into my life because she's got an itch to visit."

  "Have you told her that?"

  "I don't tell her shit." He slammed the mug down on the counter and turned on the barstool. "I'm going home."

  "Are you okay to ride?"

  The last time three beers knocked him upside the head, he'd taken a six-pack from his dad's stash in the garage when he was thirteen years old. Back then, it wasn't the alcohol that scrambled his brains. It was his dad's fists, taking their pound of flesh from his body, for stealing his beer.

  He lifted his hand in farewell. "Catch you later, Roddy."

  Weaving through the crowd, he pushed outside and walked to his motorcycle. He wasn't in the mood to hang with the other Tarkio Motorcycle Club members that came over to drink the night away.

  Everyone had something good about their life. Not him. He had to deal with his past.

  Hell, he wouldn't be against helping Faye out or whatever she wanted, but the past needed to stay in the past. Faye was old enough now to understand it wasn't good for him to be around her.