Ryder (Savage Wolves MC) #3

Chapter Fourteen

"Shouldn't be feeding those strays out here, they'll just keep coming back for more," Micah chastises.

"And I'll keep feeding them," my mom's voice appears from behind us through the screen door.

I smile up at her, grateful she didn't berate me for feeding the poor, scrawny thing that's crawled up here the past few days when I've been outside.

He just needs help and this isn't the neighborhood to be digging in the trash for scraps. He'll either wind up shot or starved since not many of the folks around here toss anything out. Everyone is too poor to be wasteful. Growing up, I remember having to eat many spoiled meat sandwiches and casseroles because it was already expired by the time we picked it up at the food bank.

"Talia, sweetie, Logan has to take off and I was wondering if you wanted to come sit with your daddy for a few minutes before we got supper ready."

Logan is the second oldest of my siblings. In and out of jail since the literal day that he turned sixteen, he's the complete opposite of Micah the golden boy. Drugs, theft, assault - he's looked down on around here, but back with the Wolves, he'd fit right in.

"Yeah, momma, I'll go sit with him." Standing up, I brush off the back of my leggings of the dirt caked into the cement brick I was sitting on.

As I turn to enter the house, Christian and Laney's beat up red mini van pulls back into the vicinity of the yard. Kids free of car seats barrel out of the car and head straight for the side yard where Micah brought them a slip and slide to play with. Buckets of creek water sit nearby for them to douse the plastic kiddie toy with along with some soap to make it extra slippery.

Shouts of "Hey, Auntie T!" meet my ears before I head back into the house. I just saw them less than three hours ago but they still acknowledge me like I've not seen them in years - and some of them I haven't.

Two of them I hadn't even met before, having been born when I was living in Florida.

"Looks like you've got your hands full," I say to Laney who sighs and shakes her head. Turning back to Micah, I thumb in Laney's exasperated direction, "And that, dear brother, is one reason I'm not pushing out any kids anytime soon."

He laughs and I go into the house, blasted with an industrial fan blowing around the stagnant air.

It smells of dough and I know mom was just rolling out some for homemade bread. My mouth is already watering.

Knick knacks galore surround me as I walk through the living room and down the hall. Mom was always fond of every figurine she could find for free or under fifty cents at the Red Barn Thrift Store. Photos of all us kids line the hallway. School pictures with the sample watermark still present. Pictures of us at different functions. Pictures of me at my high school prom. I still cringe knowing I dressed like that and I try to avoid the picture every time I've passed it since coming home.

Micah never seems to let me forget it.

Ass.

After Laney officially became apart of the family, mom decided to hang up several photos of the two of us from when we were kids and thick as thieves. Only around the beginning of high school did we fall apart and once she started fucking my brother and got knocked up, I'd lost all interest in being her bestie.