“The fuck did you just say?”
I glanced at the phone. My brother’s voice sounded deadly. And all at once, everything came crashing down. Romeo had interrupted the call. Romeo, who was Gator’s cousin. Gator, who was Devlyn’s baby daddy. Devlyn, who I’d just told everything to, not thinking about Gator hearing it too.
“Chasm, where the fuck is Morgan?”
“I’m here,” I said, closing my eyes tight.
The sound of a chair scraping across the floor had me looking up and staring into the angry eyes of King, the Sons of Hell president.
“Is it true?” my brother asked.
“Is what true?” Jude stood up and glared at me for a beat before looking at the phone.
“Morgan!” my brother shouted. “Is. It. True?”
I bit my lip, afraid to answer, but also afraid not to. I looked at Jude, and my eyes filled with tears. I sought out King, who stood on the other side of the room. I pleaded with him silently to do something. Anything to turn back time.
Twenty-four hours was all I needed.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as my mother stepped up behind me. “It’s time, sweetheart.”
I nodded. “Yes, King. It’s true.”
“Don’t fucking move, Jude,” my brother ordered before disconnecting the call.
“Morgan, what’s going on?” King asked. A sad chuckle fell from my lips as I thought about how confusing life was about to get in Rosewood, Virginia.
My brother, Kingston O’Rourke, was coming here.
We would have two men, two MC presidents, with the same name.
“Morgan, what the hell is going on?” Jude asked. “What’s true? What did Rome tell King?”
My hand covered my mouth; I couldn’t say the words. I couldn’t confess what I had kept from him all these years.
My mother stood behind me, her hands on my shoulders. She was my strength, my rock. My whole life she’d been there for me. And she was there for me now. Saying what I couldn’t.
“Jude, Kingston is Morgan’s brother. Her father is Braesal O’Malley.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jude
I fell back in my chair when Morgan’s mother dropped a fucking bomb in my lap. I looked at my wife; tears ran down her face as she waited for my reaction.
“Your father is Braesal O’Malley?” I asked, not expecting an answer. Not really even asking the question, more stating what I heard. Needing confirmation from my own lips.
“And King...” I shook my head. This couldn’t be true. I wasn’t married to my best friend’s sister. I turned my eyes back to Morgan. “How long have you known?”
Morgan stared at me. The fear in her eyes made me angry. I’d never fucking hurt her. I’d never lay a fucking hand on her.
“How fucking long, Morgan?” I stood up and took a step closer. King grabbed my arm, and I tried to shrug him off, but the fucker had an iron grip.
“Easy, Chasm.”
“Fuck off. This is between me and my wife.”
“I’ll remind you that Morgan is no longer your wife,” Scribe said from the doorway. “When you were declared dead, your marriage was dissolved. And I’ll also remind you that when she was with my brother, you were still dead.”
