“He loves you, Jassy,” he rasps, and my eyes tear at the nickname.
I hated it growing up.
Brady used to be the only one to call me it until he met Bruce, and he started it and I began to hate it but now…
“I know,” I confess, “but I don’t know, I’ve just felt off lately…” I say it, furrowing my brows, worry tight in my chest, a pull in my gut.
I’ve been emotional, more than usual, like how I was when I was…
Ah crap.
“He’ll be back soon, Jasmine,” Brady reminds me, and I swallow the bile wanting to come up, the panic as I try to think back.
Crap, crap, crap…
“I know,” I choke out, then clear my throat and glance at Aisling as I question, “So, why did you call? You usually don’t check in, especially since you talk to Logan a lot.”
He chuckles, “I would admit, I never thought I’d like the biker or him me after our first meeting six years ago, but I do see him as family now, and I know you’ll be safe with him.”
Trying to keep my breathing steady, my mind not able to comprehend the situation I’ve gotten myself in when the man I love still resents me, I ask, “What happened when you first met?”
He chuckles, “I accused him of trying to sleep with Granny for her money, and he was ready to kill me…”
My eyes widen as I gasp, “Brady!” and he laughs.
"I know, believe me, I know. The man was in med school at the time. I had no idea. Granny laid into me after he left. The problem was that while Mama kept claiming Ms. Palmer meant Bruce when she said you were pregnant with a biker. When I saw him sitting with Granny, I knew Ms. Palmer was right. And fuck, Jassy, I was angry. Bruce was in my ear about you playing him. I—I was a bad brother," he says with sorrow, and I sigh.
“It’s in the past, Brady,” I murmur, hoping to ease his guilt because I know having guilt sucks and besides, he’s trying to make up for it now and that is all that matters.
“That may be so, little sister, but it doesn’t mean I have to be a dickhead. I never, not once saw you look at Bruce in anyway other than distaste but I listened to him and Mama, I listened to Dad when he thought you had lied and for that I am so fucking sorry. But more so, I’m sorry for not trying to help you when the bitch locked you up, when she tried to kill my niece.” He whispers, and I swallow hard as I hear a car door open and close in the background.
If he’d tried to help me, he would have ended up down there with me like he had for the first few years I was shoved into that basement before he decided to just do as he was told and allowed our mother to micromanage his life.
He sighs, “Look, I’m with Dad, and he uh, fuck Jassy, he misses his daughter. He hasn’t stopped trying to find you since you left, and after Mama let slip someone saw you at Granny’s funeral, he’s been begging me to speak to you.”
I watch Aisling, not saying anything in return, not really knowing what to say.
Logan mentioned just before he left for the run that Brady said Dad wanted contact, that he just wanted to make sure I was okay. He said he doesn’t know the whole story as to why I left, he’s also unaware of the fact that he has a grandchild, but I just…
He called me a liar and made it easy for Bruce to get to me, he took Mama’s side.
“Please, Jassy, just let him know you are okay, that is all, so he can hear your voice with his own ears. I’ve watched him breakdown every single day worrying about you, please,” Brady whispers, and I squeeze my eyes shut before muttering, “Okay.”
I hear him sigh before suddenly my dad chokes, “Jasmine?”
“Hi, Dad,” I whisper in return, looking back at Aisling, my daughter, my life, who I would never dream of calling a liar when the truth is right in front of you.
“Fuck,” he rasps, “you’re really okay…”
“Well, I wouldn’t say okay, but I’m getting there,” I admit lowly.
"Where have you been?" he asks, but doesn’t let me answer, instead he continues, "I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Your mama said you ran off with half her bank account. She claimed I’d never be able to find you. She said you cheated on Bruce with some biker…”
“I’ve never been with Bruce, not once, or even looked at him romantically—let alone as a friend,” I cut in. “And the biker, as she calls him, is the love of my life—the man who made me want to be with someone after having Mama shove a guy down my throat because she wanted to control me.” I take a deep breath and add, “That biker is the father of my five-year-old daughter, who I ran away with after mother dearest tried to kick her out of my stomach at that fundraiser six years ago, after Ms. Palmer told everyone that I was pregnant when I announced it to Mama and that biker saved me when Bruce tried to kill my little girl last week.”
“What?” he whispers in shock, “I have a… she tried to… Fuck, that day I caught him.”
“He tried to rape me, Dad, I wasn’t lying, just like every time he came around he’d try to knock my door down, and the few times I wasn’t as good as I tried to be and I got locked in the basement he’d taunt me from behind the padlocked door.” I whisper.
