Since Granny’s funeral, since feeling Jas and thinking maybe I was going insane, to then fucking seeing her in the hospital with my daughter,myfucking kid, I haven’t been able to keep my emotions under control as I have for the past six years, but finding out my own mother threatened to slice my daughter's throat…
Fuck!
I’m about to snap, I can feel it so I’m trying to get outta my goddamn head by doing all the grunt work alone before I say fuck it and go into the clubhouse and shoot my mother betweenthe eyes like she deserves because of fucking course she hasn’t listened to Doc’s command to stay the fuck away. Disrespecting her husband’s pres and Dad also won’t follow through with Doc’s command until he’s been told why his wife is being banned like a fucking prick despite him fucking Tiffany every goddamn day.
He should have taken his pres’ orders because then yesterday would most likely not have happened, and he wouldn’t have been demoted to grunt work with the prospects.
And to make things worse, the brothers have backed my dad despite him being put on grunt work. They’re demanding an explanation before banning an old lady of thirty years, going against their president, pissing him off, which only escalated after the shitshow yesterday to the point he’s been at work just so he doesn’t shoot his brothers or me.
My jaw ticks as I grab a bolt while wiping my forehead with my arm, sweat dripping. Growing up, I fucking hated my mother, didn’t want to be around her, and felt like I couldn’t be near the club because of her. I resented my father for being blind, now though, fuck, hate isn’t a strong enough word to describe how I feel towards my mother, towards him, and the fucking club that has stood behind them.
Her words from yesterday run through my head, and my anger spears through me yet again as I throw my wrench across the garage in frustration.
“Don’t worry, Kate, he’s going to marry you. I’ve already ensured it when I paid that bitch to leave town and threatened to kill her after I saw she miscarried. Logan will marry you. He’ll do as I say, or the footage I have of him growing up will be sent out. I will have my way,” I hear Mama whisper as I walk out of my room and pause, listening.
What the fuck…
“No, darling, I promise, she lost the baby, I made sure by looking through her notes while the doctors were busy,” Mama consoles, and I frown.
Doctors?
I promised Doc I wouldn’t confront my mother, that I’d wait until our meeting today, but fuck, Mama thought Jas had lost Aisling?
But I thought Mama told her to get rid of her or else?
Confusion fills me, because what the fuck? Before anger builds as Mama gloats, “I owe whoever attacked her and killed the spawn a drink…”
Attacked? What the fuck does she mean by attacked?
I blink, her words spinning before they actually sink in, moving past the attack and fury builds.
Her own fucking grandchild?
“Is that so?” I sneer, making myself known, and Mama quickly drops the phone in shock as she jumps back, her mouth parting as her eyes tear.
“Mama?” I her Kate question and I try not to snort at the irony.
Of course she calls her mama.
“Logan,” my egg donor whispers, and I shout, “Is that fucking so, Mama?!” not able to keep my temper at bay making her flinch before I walk over to her and slam my boot down on her phone, Kate pleads quiet as I make sure the fucking thing is smashed, making the woman who birthed me and hated that I was born a boy gasp. I get in her face and say, “You want to show everyone how you dressed me up in dresses? How you burned me when I wanted to act like a boy and not a girl? How you forced me to grow my hair out to the point I itch when I feel it getting too long, go a-fucking-head because Dad will put the bullet between your eyes himself,” her tears fall as her body trembles, not so much the fucking tough bitch now, and Ithreaten, “Come near me again, and I will slice your throat like you threatened to do to my daughter!”
Her eyes widen as she stutters, “D-daughter…”
I smirk coldly and confirm, “Yeah, Sara,” she flinches, “My daughter, the granddaughter you probably always wanted, the one you thought was dead and wanted to praise my girl’s attacker for trying to kill,” I get further into her face and grab her neck, squeezing it, showing her blood is not fucking thicker where she is concerned and I threaten, “You go anywhere near my daughter, if those psycho bitches you keep bringing around even look at her or my girl, I’ll burn you all alive.”
“Lo…” she sobs, and I sneer, “You are fucking dead to me,” before shoving her back hard against the wall, and she cries out as her head bangs against it hard before I turn and storm away, my body trembling with so much fucking anger.
She lied to me, maybe not about Mama wanting to kill our daughter, but the whole scenario of how it happened, she fucking lied to me, or at least omitted the truth, but why?
I handed in my cut, well, more like chucked it on the floor, quitting the club, shocking everyone before storming out. The only reason why I’m still working at Rebel’s motors with Dirty is because I’m contracted and the fucker knew what he was doing when he had me sign the fucking thing because the payout clause is over a million dollars. Which obviously I didn’t check until I got back home last night from the hospital to see if I could quit, after watching my daughter sleep while Jas stared out the window, refusing to speak to me since her revelation. I don’t even know the full story of how Jas ended up in hospital to begin with, dammit, I don’t even fucking know how Mama managed to find out about her.
Nothing is adding up, and the more I try to make sense of everything, the more my anger builds.
“You know I said I would help you with Ace’s bike, brother,” Dirty’s voice booms in the garage, breaking my thoughts.
I grunt, “Not your brother, just your family,” as I sit up straighter and grab a rag and wipe my hands, not shocked that he’s showing up today despite promising his son Caleb that he’d spend the day with him.
“It’s the same fucking thing you idiot, so stop with that shit!” he growls, and I roll my eyes before giving the man a hard glare.
