“We’ve all had bad things happen, Kat. It’s how we respond to those things that makes us who we are. For instance, you are a strong, protective mother. The mother Frankie needed. You may not have carried her inside your body and given birth to her, but you gave her a life she never would have had without you.”
Maggie’s words ran through my head as I lay down in her guest room that night. After we came in from the porch, Maggie led me upstairs so I could check on Frankie. She and Cami were sprawled out on Cami’s bed, sound asleep. Candy wrappers and empty soda cans littered the floor.
Like Frankie, I never had siblings growing up. I’d always wished for a sister or two. I always wished I could have given Frankie a brother or sister, but Richard and I had just started talking about a second adoption when I came home and discovered what he was doing.
After that, I was barely able to support Frankie and me; there was no way I could afford to adopt another child. Now I wondered if it was too late. She was twelve years old. Would bringing in another child cause her to feel left out or forgotten? Would she be jealous of another person taking up my time?
Would she even want a sibling? Would I be able to foster as a single woman? There were a lot of questions I didn’t have answers to, but I let them run through my head in place of the questions I didn’t want to answer.
Questions about Derek and how he might impact our lives if I let him in, or if I kept him out.
Chapter Twenty-One
Derek
The clubhouse was a flurry of activity. The old ladies had been cooking for two days, and now the place smelled like turkey and stuffing and all the shit that was supposed to make you feel like you belonged somewhere.
Only, I didn’t feel like I belonged here.
Jack insisted I was welcome. He always insisted. But the club didn’t get the memo, and I didn’t blame them.
The old ladies tried. They’d taken Sam’s words to heart and were willing to give me a second chance because she asked them to.
The men didn’t give Jack the same respect, so I tried to pick up where they left off. I stayed out of their way as much as I could. Didn’t hang out at the clubhouse. Stopped at the bar in town after work to have a beer or two, then went home to Jack’s house and kept my head down.
But this was Thanksgiving.
A family holiday.
One I’d missed last year because things were still new between Jack and me, and I was too much of a fucking coward to face them. I’d lied to Jack; told him I had projects to finish before I could start on his house. It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.
The truth was, I didn’t feel worthy of their family. Their forgiveness. I wanted it—fuck, I wanted it so badly it hurt—but I didn’t deserve it.
Haizley was helping me work through that shit. I’d come a long way. But what happened with Richard proved I still had a longer fucking way to go.
I just didn’t have much faith that I would get there.
“Hey, Derek, can you give me a hand?”
I blinked and realized Gunner was standing in front of me, waiting.
“Yeah. Sure.”
I followed him outside to a shed in the back of the property. My skin prickled with anxiety. Gunner opened the shed door and waited for me to go first. I stepped inside and looked around. The shed held folding tables stacked along the left wall and chairs along the right.
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since we got back from Pennsylvania,” Gunner said, propping the door open.
“I’m okay.”
He cocked his head. “You sure? Haizley won’t tell me shit.”
It reassured me that Haizley kept our sessions private, but I didn’t know where this was going.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Haizley,” I said. “I’m not sorry I beat the shit out of him. The only regret I have is you and Jack showing up before I could kill him.”
“I’m not talking about him,” Gunner said. He leaned against the stack of tables and studied me. “Fucker deserved what he got and more. I’m talking about Frankie.”
My stomach dropped.
