Grabbing Hold (The Motorcycle Kid #1)

37. The Right Thing

Derek thumped his fingers against the steering wheel as he took the exit off the freeway and made his way into the suburbs of Flint, Michigan. Music pumped through the car as he let himself go, trying to enjoy what was left of this mini Audrey hiatus.

Since their "break", Derek had left Levi's house, skyped in to a few work meetings, bar crawled at night, and spent the days driving from one place to another. And if he was being honest, it was a much needed break. He hadn't felt this relaxed in months, and if he could stay this relaxed, going back home would be a piece of cake.

At present, he was in the suburbs of Norfolk, Virginia, heading straight for his father's house near the naval base. Tom Daniel, a retired senior officer, had left the Navy around the same time Derek and Charlotte had finalized their divorce, and without the responsibilities of a wife or young children, had found new life on the island of Barbados, working as a tour guide.

Derek's father had been widowed at the early age of twenty-nine when his mother, Patricia, had passed away shortly after giving birth to the youngest Daniel boy, Levi. From then on, Thomas Daniel had raised their three boys - Derek, Donovan and Levi - almost entirely on his own, with the help of his mother and sister.

Now, Tom's baby boys were grown men with kids of their own, and so far, they seemed to be doing a good job.

Wait till he finds out what happened with Charlie and Emma, taunted Derek's conscience as he pulled up outside the two storey home with a large wraparound porch. An American flag hung flying from the post fixed to one of the pillars. The lawn, perfectly manicured as usual, was home to a small garden, where red and white roses bloomed in the summer sunlight. There was an old swing chair in the left corner of the porch, and in it swung a stern-looking Tom Daniel.

"Hey, Dad," greeted Derek meekly as he shut the car door behind himself. He removed his sunglasses as he approached his father. They locked eyes, blue to blue, with Derek coming to a halt at the foot of the porch steps. Maybe it was the intensity in the older Daniel's eyes that stopped him in his tracks, rendering him silent.

"You're late," said the older man, grey hair like a silver crown atop his head. His face, though wrinkled, was strong and regal, and one could see from where Derek and his brothers got their handsome looks. At sixty-seven years old, Tom Daniel was aging gracefully, and still turned a head or two when he took a stroll into town.

"I know," replied Derek flatly. "Stuff came up."

"What stuff?" asked his father, grabbing the overnight bag that lay next to him. He descended the porch steps, coming eye to eye with his eldest son. Instinctively, Derek took a step back.

"What did you do?"

"Can we just go? I'll tell you on the way."

The older man pursed his lips, sliding into the passenger seat.

"You good?" asked Derek as his father fastened the seatbelt.

"Drive, boy. We got things to take care of."

Derek let out a heavy groan as he pressed on the gas pedal.

It was going to be one very long drive.

"Hey," greeted Emma as Ryder sauntered over to join them. She offered up the bag of chips, which was immediately snatched away by Josh.

"Get ya own chips, Joseph," he said through a mouthful of chips.

"Nah, I think I'll take these ones," challenged Ryder, grabbing the bag. The two exchanged glares, their earlier animosity still present, even after an entire month.