Page 11 of Callow
“Oh, no. Trust me, we were… quite technical about the male anatomy. So clinical, in fact, that we may have scarred her for life,” Britney said, wincing. “I know far more about the vas deferens than any gay woman should have to.”
“I think Daph went green the first time we had the really in-depth sex talk. It is a cherished memory,” I added with a laugh. “But at least she learned it from me. I had to go out and learn it all firsthand.”
“Yes, speaking of learning it firsthand…”
“Look, I’m not saying I would turn down the chance to take a tour of that man’s sheets. But I don’t think I have it in me to go and look for him. That just feels too desperate. But I…” I started as my phone started to ring on the table.
“Is the movie over already?” Britney asked, turning her wrist to check her watch.
After two weeks of near lockdown, I’d finally agreed to let Daphne go with a group of friends to the movies.
I’d even dropped her off there myself.
But, yeah, the movie shouldn’t have been over yet.
That said, I always told Daph that I would always come pick her up at any time, that she should never hesitate to call me if things felt weird or anything like that.
I swiped the screen then pulled it to my ear.
“Do you need to be picked up?” I asked.
“Yeah, she does,” a male voice said, making my stomach—and somewhere else entirely—tighten.
Because that wasn’t just any man’s voice. It was the one that had been starring in my dirty dreams, his breath warm on my ear as he whispered filthy things to me as he thrust…
“Callow?” I asked, stiffening as Britney shot me wide eyes.
“You’ll never guess who walked up in the clubhouse like she was gonna be allowed to party,” he said.
“Clubhouse?” I asked, surprisingly calm that my daughter had yet again gotten herself involved in something she shouldn’t have. I guess because I knew that Callow was clearly looking out for her.
“Henchmen clubhouse,” he said. Then, sensing there was still no recognition, “Biker clubhouse.”
“Biker clubhouse?” I asked, mind flashing with scenes from movies and TV shows. Rough and tough bikers. Girls in next to nothing. People literally fucking in public.
This kid was going to be the death of me.
Or, at the very least, the reason I was going to go prematurely gray.
“I’ll come get her. What’s the address?” I asked, waiting for him to rattle it off. “Thanks for calling again, Callow,” I said before hanging up.
To find Britney staring at me with saucer eyes. “What?” I asked.
“You didn’t mention that Callow was a Henchmen.”
“I don’t… know what that means,” I admitted.
“The Henchmen. The guys riding around on bikes. Wearing leather cuts…”
“You mean those vests?” I asked.
“Yes, Sabrina, the vests,” she said, shaking her head at me. “You know, the ones with the one-percenters badges on them.”
“It’s like you’re speaking a different language.”
“How could you have possibly lived in Navesink Bank your whole life without knowing about them?” Britney asked.
“Hey, I mean, I know there are bikers around. But I don’t know anything about their, you know, lifestyle.”