I chuckle humorlessly. "I'm out of my damn mind. I should have just shot you the second that you stepped over the line. Instead, I went and fucked the daughter of the man who stole everything from me. I wanted to piss off your brothers. I didn't intend to care about you at all."
"You've said that before. To Kase and to me. But from where I'm standing, nobody stole anything from you."
My smile feels carved from stone. "You'd be wrong. He and his family took everything I ever loved. My wife. My daughter. The MC I founded."
"We didn't take the Kings from you," she says, latching onto the only point she can argue.
"You still don't get it do you?"
Bemused silence.
I pull to a stop at a four-way and tug at the fingers of my right glove. I've never taken it off, even while finger fucking her. I expect her to be more curious as to why. But she's never asked.
"It was my brainchild. I just got Trent and Cruz on board after the fact."
I work the leather off and brandish it at her. Her eyes fly open wide, mouth forming an 'o' of understanding and horror.
"Ifounded the Sleepless Spades."
13
Penelope
No.
My mind immediately rejects it. It's not possible. There would have been records of it in the charter. Someone in the MC would have remembered him. There were only two founding members, my father, and Trent McNeil. Calamity Gardel can't have been a Spade.
But it's there, inked onto the back of his hand, identical to the tattoo my father sported. It's the traditional design for the Ace of Spades found on playing cards. No one else in the MC could get that tattoo. He and Trent got them together at the same tattoo parlor just before founding the Spades.
He, Trent, and Calamity, I amend.
Why else would he have it? If anyone in the Kings discovers he was a Spade at one point, they'll defect in droves. He's constantly wearing gloves to hide it, so I don't think he got it just to fuck with our heads. Which means only one thing.
He's telling the truth, or at least part of it.
"Daddy dearest didn't tell you that part of the story, did he?"
He seems to derive sick satisfaction from my reaction. My face feels cold, and my chest aches. Just how many sucker punches can one girl take in a day? It's surreal to know he was a normal, intelligent philanthropist at one point. It turns my world on its head to discover he was the wronged party in our decades-long dispute. The worst part? I know the story doesn't end at being robbed of his place in our history.
I shake my head numbly. I can't speak. I'm not sure if I'll laugh or cry if I open my mouth. This feels like a nightmare.
"Your father and I were neighbors. We grew up in the same shitty part of town. We went to high school together. Worked at the same chop shop on the down-low for cash."
He sounds almost wistful, recounting a history I would never have conjured in my wildest dreams. I can't picture it. My father only had one friend in all the photo albums. Trent. It was always Trent.
"We were inseparable. Trent didn't enter the picture until I left South Hollens. Cruz hated the fact I had the grades to get a scholarship and leave our shitty life behind for the next four years. But he would have forgiven me for it, eventually. And thensheentered the picture."
She. That has to mean Trinity. I get a hazy picture of where this tale is going, and I don't like it one bit. I want to shove my fingers into my ears and hum loud enough to drown out his words. He's about to shatter the comfortable narrative that I've always lived with. I've always believed the Spades were victims, hated senselessly by the Kings. Ignorance is bliss, and I want to run back to it as fast as I can.
But his accusing stare pins me to my seat, daring me to try it. He'll pry my fingers loose and shove the truth right into my brain by force. So I continue to stare at him, dumbfounded.
"You're a lot like her, you know. Opinionated and loud and stubbornly championing your pet causes. But she was softer than you. Too good for any of us. And we all loved her. Trent, Cruz, and I. Trent bowed out gracefully when she didn't show interest. But Cruz? Cruz was furious when she chose me. Said that she was a stuck-up bitch, choosing me because I had a degree and a good job. Said she valued security over love."
His face darkens. "I thought things blew over when he met Maria and had the twins. She knew she was his second choice and hated Trinity for it. She loved Cruz from the second grade on. The bastard didn't even try to disguise that he wanted someone else. He still wasn't speaking to me outside of club meetings, but I thought maybe, just maybe, he'd learned to fall in love with her when he had his third kid."
I jerk in surprise, my stomach performing an odd swooping motion. It's fucking strange to hear him refer to my birth after all we've done together. But I'm younger than Brooklyn.
"He kept trying to edge me out of club business, even though I was the one who set up the casino. He took it over, along with his pet project, Rapture. Trinity kept urging me to leave it behind. We had a kid. We didn't need the drama with our second on the way."
