Fuck, fuck, fuck. Another kid? But Brooklyn is an only child. It can only mean one thing.
"He stormed in one evening." Calamity's voice is flat as he recounts the tale, eyes tightening as if he's bracing for pain. "Trent tried to stop him. He was piss drunk. Demanded Trinity come with him and make the right choice this time. She would have, too, just to get him away from Brooklyn. She was crying, scared shitless by that point. And then he saw me. He took aim and fired."
His throat works hard, and I think I see something streak down one cheek. I decide in the next moment I imagined it, because his expression is thunderous, a rictus of rage.
"It went wide. Would have hit Brooklyn if Trinity hadn't stepped in the way."
The car rolls forward again. Rain pours from the sky with enough suddenness to startle the pants off me, and I let out a soft exclamation. Between the rain and the unnaturally dark morning sky, it's impossible to see much more than a few feet ahead of us. The headlights of passing cars are the only indicators we have to keep us away from a collision. Calamity's inching forward at a snail's pace, for which I'm grateful. He will probably gun it, and I don't need motion sickness on top of the nausea I'm already experiencing.
Trinity was shot. By my father. And somehow, Calamity had gotten the blame for it.
"What happened next?" I force myself to ask, though I'll die a happy woman if I never have to hear the answer.
Calamity continues on mercilessly, ignoring my discomfort. "We'd just had the ultrasound. A boy, they said. And I never got to spend the last few minutes I had with them because your cowardly father called the cops. Claimed that I'd shot my wife. He had the might of the Spades behind him, and I knew I'd be facing a kangaroo court if I stayed put. He had Harman, Rocco, and Trent to testify against me alongside him. Four against one. I took Brooklyn and ran."
He pauses again and shakes his head. "I would have killed him if she weren't there. But she needed a parent. So I took the high road. I refused to do it again when we met again years later."
When my father had been shot and tried to shoot Kase. With this new knowledge in hand, the situation takes on a grim light. It must have seemed like poetic justice to him to end one of my brothers when his own son had been stolen. I can't forgive him for bringing Kase into it. And I don't want to forgive him for my father's death either.
But the niggling voice in the back of my head won't shut up, and I'm forced to face the question I've been avoiding since he started this whole sordid tale.
Did my father deserve it?
"It wasn't my bullet that killed him," Calamity mumbles. "And that pissed me off. And then the gutless Trent didn't even have the good grace to die during his attempt on Miss. Sutton's life. Your brother stole my daughter. So I'm left with nothing. Again."
"How do I know you're telling me the truth?" I whisper, unable to force any volume into the question. I'm barely hanging on, and I don't want to go to pieces in his car.
He gives me a mocking smile and tips an imaginary hat. "So now you know. And you can cross the line and pretend like all of this was a bad dream. You live in a legacy of lies, so what's a few more? Tell them whatever you like. I'm a murderer. A rapist. A lying bastard. I don't care. Once we get to the line, you can get the fuck out."
No. Not a fucking chance. He doesn't get to drop a bombshell on my life and then order me to pretend like nothing happened. How can I go back to the Spades, knowing what's happened? Three of the people who could have told me the truth are gone. But Doc Harman is still alive, and he can set the record straight. It's the only way that I can return in good conscience. I have to set this right. Everyone in the MC will hate me for it. Most of them will probably call me crazy or a liar, but I don't care. The staggering unfairness of what happened to Calamity brings tears to my eyes. No wonder he's turned into this monster. Only monsters survive those odds.
"No," I whisper.
He turns in his seat and considers me coldly. The car comes to a complete halt, but it's not as big a deal as it might normally have been. There's no one on the road, and we're one of the handful of idiots risking the storm.
"Like I said. It's not a fucking request, Penelope. Whatever this...madness was, it's over now."
No. I won't let it be. We're close to something. I can feel that. He's trying to retreat behind the mask of the monster. I can't let him do it now that I've seen the man behind it.
A brilliant flash of light blinds us both, and I fling up a hand to shield my eyes. There's a crack and a low, chilling groan and then a giant oak tips sideways, crashing onto the highway in front of us. It's fortunate that we are going so slowly, or that thing would have caved in the roof of the Camaro. Calamity spits a curse and brings us to a grinding halt before one of the outstretched branches.
"Fuck," he says fervently.
He undoes his seatbelt, and I seize the sleeve of his riding jacket when he reaches for the door handle.
"Where are you going?"
"To move this thing. Your brothers will cross the line if we don't get there by noon."
The dashboard clock reads nine o'clock. "We have time. And you can't move that thing. As much as I'd like to see you flex all that rippling muscle, you're just going to throw your back out."
Amusement etches the lines around his mouth for a few seconds at the praise. Then he sobers. "You still have to go."
"I don't want to. You need me here."
"I don't need anything or anyone," he says flatly. "When it comes down to it, the only person I can trust is me. I don't need empty promises from another Cruz. I'm done with your family for good."
I reach for him, and he allows the touch, shivering when I trail a hand down his pecs, over those washboard abs and down to where his hips taper. He's expecting me to reach for his cock. Instead, I pull his Glock its side holster.
