His voice carries, low and steady, no judgment in it. She nods once and disappears from sight.
Before I know it, I’ve destroyed almost all the tables and chairs in the bar.
That’s when I realize there’s nothing left standing except the bar and pool tables, because I’ve smashed it all. I lean against the wall, my chest heaving. My knuckles are bleeding where I split them on the counter. And shame fills my very soul because I worked hard to overcome my rage and thought this behavior was squarely in my rearview.
I stomp out the front door and head to the garage.
My bike is sitting in one of the bays with the oil pan already removed from where I was working on it before the bomb threat created chaos. I grab a rag, wipe my hands, then start working on the throttle assembly even though it doesn’t really need work. It’s just something to help calm me down.
I hear my dad and brothers coming. Rock shows up first. Then Jasper, Onyx, and Mica shuffle into the bay. Without saying a word, the four of them just crouch down around me, a semi-circle of leather cuts.
I keep my eyes on the bike, tightening a bolt that’s already tight. It’s clear they’re following old protocols by waiting for me to speak first.
Finally, I sigh. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll pay to replace everything I smashed.”
Rock snorts a laugh. “Of fuckin’ course you will. But that’s not what we’re here to talk about.”
I glance up at their serious faces. “What the hell do you want from me?”
Jasper shifts, his forearms resting on his knees. “We want some fuckin’ answers. I haven’t seen you act like that since you were a teen. What in the hell happened?”
I drag a hand down my face. “Katie’s my daughter,” I say. “And Christina never said a damn thing. She never even called me when she had a stalker chasing her. If Rivera hadn’t crossed paths with her and called me, I never would’ve known. They’d both likely be dead right now because she’d rather risk my child’s life than accept a fuckin’ biker as her father.”
Rock leans his elbows on his knees, watching me. “You’re filling in the blanks with your own insecurities again, son.”
I look at him. “She lied. You’re the one who taught me that lies of omission were still lies.”
“Maybe. But you’re making up the rest. You don’t know the whole story. You’ve got to ask questions and fuckin’ listen to her answers.”
“I did that already,” I reply curtly.
Rock’s exasperated voice shoots back, “Then you dig deeper. You wouldn’t have fallen for her back in Afghanistan if she was a bad woman.”
I shake my head. “How am I supposed to believe anything she has to say at this point? I clearly can’t. So, what’s the point?”
He studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “That’s your choice. But you already know that people lie out of fear more often than malice. You have a child with this woman. So you’d better figure out which one you’re dealing with before you decide what comes next.”
The wrench in my hand slips, metal clinking against the floor.
What comes next.
His words echo through my mind, cutting through my anger.
Onyx speaks up. He takes after our dad when it comes to being the voice of reason. “You said she was in a coma, right?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know exactly. She made it sound like a couple of months.”
He shrugs. “Then logic probably wasn’t her strong suit for a while. Brain injuries mess with more than memory. They twist your perception, your judgment, and most especially your ability to make decisions. Someone fucking tried to kill her, and she wakes up from a coma finding out she’s pregnant. No one’s gonna be thinking straight after something like that.”
Mica nods. “And being stalked is a total mind fuck for a woman. She was likely just living minute to minute, doing whatever it took to keep breathing and keep her and the kid one step ahead of the assholes who wanted her dead.”
I glance up at him. Mica is the youngest of us, but he’s seen his share of hell.
We’re all quiet, turning the situation over in our minds.
