My throat thickens with his words. I imagine what he had to do to get the truth from Ramos and I shudder.
“It will give you closure, and it will answer your questions. But it will also change your view, permanently. You can choose to face it with me, or you can choose to say no.”
I watch as he flexes his fist.
“We fucked him up good, but it had to be done. He kept saying he wanted to talk to you first, and you need to understand that I would never let that happen without knowing what he was coming to you with. It took some extra convincing to get him to tell us first. It’s not just his secrets. It’s his club’s business too.” He reaches up and swipes his calloused thumb against my cheek.
Sean kisses me softly on the lips. “Take as long as you need to decide if you want to enter.” I weigh the decision as we stand outside the room, as if I’m on the edge of a knife and I can no longer balance. I have to go one way or the other. I try to gather the words to make him understand how I feel after such a short amount of time with him. It’s unheard of and unconventional but it just … is.
“That’s the thing, Sean. You say you never had a choice when you saw me? Well, neither did I.” There’s nothing more to say. I lace my fingers through his with one hand and grip the handle to the door with the other, turning the knob and pushing into the room. My eyes land on Wolfe standing in the center of the space. The very battered body of the man in front of Wolfe is bleeding. The man I now know for sure shot my parents. A strange feeling of strength and power washes over me as I watch him bleed all over the tarp at Wolfe’s feet.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Layla
“You got this?” Wolfe asks Sean as we enter the room and he closes the door behind us. Where the hall is dark, this space is brightly lit. It’s a utility room of sorts—solid concrete, floor to ceiling, with a utility sink in the corner, a table and a few chairs. On the table are various knives, tools, a soaking wet cloth and jugs of water. Some of the jugs are empty, some full, and leaning against the table is a baseball bat. I’m frozen in place. After seeing him at my house and now in this brighter light, I’m unable to believe how accurate the police sketch was with all of the smaller details, even down to the shape of his eyes and the joker card that’s tattooed on the left side of his neck. How the police never found him while knowing such details is beyond me. The thought that maybe they didn’t want to find him, that someone was on his club’s payroll, runs through my mind.
Sean nods and Wolfe looks at me; his gaze feels hot, like he could kill me if he stared too much longer.
“Welcome to the family,” he says, bending down to kiss me on the cheek.
Alexander Ramos sits before us, beaten to a pulp. His lefteye is almost bulging out of its socket, his cheek is clearly broken and so are some of his fingers. It’s an odd moment, as I take in the scene before me while Sean’s club president is welcoming me to the family. But somehow it’s settling and comforting. After losing my mom, this is the first time I’ve felt like I belonged to someone or something—maybe even more so because I know Sean and his club are my family no matter who I choose to be. No judgments, no stipulations. They just want me for me.
Wolfe moves toward the door and leaves Sean and me alone with Ramos. I stare down at him. So many nights I imagined him as a monster. Tonight, I saw the monster as he stood over me. I thought he was someone from my nightmares—the man who stole my mother and her freedom. But now, he looks scared, weak. I take in his bloodstained jeans, and his cut lying on the floor.Wretched Souls.
The silence in the room is deafening.
“Are we in a hurry?” I ask. Sean turns to look at me. It must have sounded like an odd question.
“We’re here until you tell me you want to leave,” he answers.
I can feel him watching me, deciding if I’m going to snap. The odd thing is, I’ve never felt calmer.
“This was a bad idea,” Sean says, facing me and bringing his eyes to mine. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I don’t like you being in here with—”
“Sean,” I tell him, placing my hand on his chest. “I’m okay.”
Sean looks at Ramos then back to me.
“Tell her what you told me,” Sean says to him, sounding defeated. The fire I’ve felt burning under my skin ever since my mother died intensifies. Ifeelthe life he stole from her and me. My innocence. The love I had for my mother, the love she had for me. He took it all. And all I can think to ask is, “Why?”
The word leaving my lips is so quiet it’s almost a whisper.My eyes brim with tears. His eyes start to roll back as he hovers in and out of consciousness.
I gain some confidence when he doesn’t answer. “Why did you kill my parents?” I ask louder, moving closer. “Whyher?”
His eyes snap open at the mention of my mother. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” His voice is garbled. “She wasn’t supposed to be there.” He starts to cry. “Fuck … you look so much like her.”
Sean doesn’t hesitate, hitting him in the gut, hard. He starts to choke on blood and drool as Sean grips his face. “Don’t you fucking say that to her. You don’t have the fuckingright.” Sean’s voice booms in the concrete room.
“What … what do you mean?” I ask, not understanding.
Sean lets go of him and pulls me close. “The reason they died. It wasn’t because of your dad, little dove. It was your mom.”
The room reels and I stumble backward. Sean comes with me and I grip his arms with both my hands. “What do you mean?” Tears fill my eyes as I look from Sean to Ramos. Her killer’s eyes beg for mercy.
“Tell her,” Sean says to him, keeping his eyes on me.
“She was leaving him … you know that, she told you. I fucking loved her so much.” Ramos’s words are almost a whisper and I think I’m having an out-of-body experience as they sink in. How the fuck does this man know about my mother and father?
