CHAPTER ONE
FREAK
I’m looking at a fucking ghost.
When the prospect had told me there was a woman by the gate asking to see me, I was prepared to gently, or perhaps firmly, if need be, turn away a one-night stand who wanted another go around. Something I rarely do with strange. If I ever go back, it’s because the sex was phenomenal, and I’m one hundred percent assured that the woman knows the score – that there’s no chance in hell of enjoyable sex turning into anything serious. I’ve been there, got burned, and earned the t-shirt. The only person who’ll ever again own a part of my soul is Ace, my fifteen-year-old son.
I don’t find a clingy woman after a second round with my cock, although I wish that I had. Because, as I rub my eyes in disbelief, right in front of me stands Ace’s mother, a woman whom I haven’t set eyes on since my boy was just a few months old. And with very good reason. His mom is dead, which I know for certain as her death was by my own hand. I even fucking buried her. She wasn’t breathing then, as I can testify.
So how the fuck is a long-dead woman standing in front of me, dressed not in the casual clothes preferred by my ex, but stylishly? Not particularly expensive finery, but what she’s wearing has been put together with taste.
She’s dead.A shroud should be her only attire. And she shouldn’t be looking so good, not after all these years, when the worms would have cleaned the flesh from her bones.
I blink and blink again, but she doesn’t disappear in a puff of smoke. All night, and most of the afternoon, I’ve been celebrating the weddings of two of my brothers – Saint’s to Pippa, and Short’s to Bronwyn. Raising glass after glass to celebrate their happily ever afters.Was I drunk? Hallucinating?I don’t feel it. I’m steady on my feet and am sure I could pass a sobriety test if asked. I’d paced myself and know I can hold my liquor. So, what the fuck?Did someone slip me a roofie?Nah, no one would dare, especially not here in my own club.
I’m the fucking enforcer for the Kings of Anarchy, a one-percenter MC, with chapters all over the US. I don’t have a single fanciful bone in my body. So why the fuck am I seeing things that shouldn’t be there?
There’s a woman, for sure. Dum, or is it Dee? Fuck knows, the two prospects, while not related, dress the same, talk the same, and look fucking identical. Whatever, Dum/Dee is also staring at the, admittedly, very attractive woman, who age has treated kindly, with only a few more laughter lines than I remembered.
There’s no doubt she’s real. Problem is, she can be nothing but an impostor. Or maybe I’m fucked up in the head, transposing another’s face upon hers.
But as I step closer, the resemblance doesn’t diminish. It becomes more pronounced.This is Josie, if she’d been given another fifteen years.
My ex’s doppelgänger is staring at me, her teeth worrying her lip as though she’s not sure of her welcome. The answer, outlandish though it is, suddenly comes to me.She’s been sent by an enemy and must have had plastic surgery to look just like Ace’s mom.That idea was immediately countered, as who the hell would know about Josie or what she was to me? I don’t exactly broadcast my history. And for what fucking reason would they go to such extremes? Whoever’s put her up to this charade doesn’t know me. I’m Freak, the enforcer, and I don’t scare easily, even when faced with a living, breathing nightmare.
Belatedly, I ask, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Antoinette,” she answers, “Toni to my friends.”
I exhale. At least she hasn’t claimed my ex's identity. Though her manner of speaking, her tone, is almost identical to the voice I can still hear in my head. She’d introduce herself the same way –Josephine, or Josie to my friends.Godfuckingdamnit. That response offers me nothing.
Now I’m wanting nothing more than to return to the relative sanity of the clubhouse and throw back a few shots that I deserve after reliving memories I’d rather forget, resurrected simply by this woman’s presence. Instead, I stand my ground, knowing I’ve got to get to the bottom of this mystery, trick, whatever it fucking is. I give her the stare that’s normally reserved only for those marked for extreme torture and or death, and tell her dismissively, “There’s nothing for you here. Get lost.” I’ll figure out the eerie resemblance later.
She blanches at my expression, but stands her ground. “I’m Antoinette, Josephine’s twin sister.”
What?Oh, fucking no, she can’t try that. I can refute that suggestion. Stepping closer to the still-closed gate, which had been reinforced after the Mojave Devils had attacked the compound, I fist my hands around the bars and give thema shake, satisfied as they clank under the pressure. Violence buzzes through my body at the obvious lie.
As if I’ve verbally threatened her, she takes a step back.Wise woman, now just keep walking, get into your car, and drive away as if the demons of hell are after you.If she doesn’t, she’ll find I’m worse than anything that can escape from the Devil’s domain.
I don’t normally hurt women, except for the one, but I’ve never taken an oath that there wouldn’t be another time should the circumstances deserve it.
“You’re a fuckin’ liar,” I reply, spittle flying out of my mouth. “Josie was an only child.”
Though further back from me than where she’d started, Toni’s feet seem glued to the ground. Bravely, she lifts her face with a look of determination. “Josephine didn’t know about me, and I didn’t know about her. Our parents decided to go their separate ways shortly after we were born, and, not being able to agree on custody, decided they’d each take one baby.” For a fleeting second, hurt flares in her eyes, but she quickly recovers. “Dad took me, and Josephine stayed with our mom. I was never told I had a sister.”
My eyes narrow. Was that plausible? On the surface, it’s indeed an explanation. Whether it’s true or not, the problem isn’t mine, it’s hers. “Josie died almost fifteen years ago. If you’ve come looking for her, you’re sheer out of luck.”
She swallows, then admits, “I know that. I just… I just wish I’d known her.”
No, she doesn’t, not really. She’s better off not knowing what a pitiful excuse for a human being Josie was.
“Well, it’s late, and I’ve got no fond memories to share of her. So you can just turn around, get into your car, and go seek answers somewhere else.” Something’s niggling at the back of my mind. If, as she says, she’s the twin of the evil bitch I’d hadto put underground, how the fuck did she find me? I thought my relationship with Josie was buried, hidden, and lost in the depths of time. Even Ace doesn’t know fuck about his mother. And Josie’s mom, well, she’d already been dying of cancer fifteen years back. She hadn’t survived long after her daughter, but her death hadn’t been hastened by the loss. Josie had been bad news – for me, Ace, and his grandmother. The latter, someone I can at least look back on kindly.
Toni’s taken a step toward me. She’s not fucking running away. Knowing I’ve got to get her to leave before I start drowning in the past, I rasp out what I hope is further persuasion, “Josie wasn’t good people. She fuckin’ died because of the mistakes that she made. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to hear anything I could tell you about her. So get lost, Antoinette, Toni, or whatever your fuckin’ name is.”
Instead of retreating, she advances once more. Her only protection is the closed, locked, reinforced steel gate. “My father recently died,” she offers as though expecting sympathy. But she’s addressing the wrong person. I couldn’t give a fuckin’ damn.
Words aren’t working on her. I start to turn my back.
