I didn’t know.
And maybe, just maybe, that was exactly why she didn’t tell me. Maybe she knew me well enough to know I couldn’t handle it. So she cut me off. Took Grace and disappeared. Carried that alone because she knew I couldn’t carry it with her.
That was what was killing me. Not that she lied. But that she knew me that well. Knew I wasn’t strong enough for the truth.
I closed my eyes and admitted, “I don’t know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Popeye
Trudy nodded slowly, deliberately, like she’d expected that answer all along. Like she’d been waiting for me to arrive at this exact conclusion. “Maybe she didn’t know either,” she said, her voice measured and careful. “Maybe that’s why she didn’t tell you. Maybe she was just as lost as you are now, trying to make sense of something that didn’t make sense.”
The words settled over me, heavy and uncomfortable, like a wet blanket I couldn’t shake off.
I looked down at the journal in my hand, at the worn leather cover that had hidden so many secrets for so long. “She said she was already broken by then. That the woman I loved had died long before Titan did.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth, like poison I’d been forced to swallow.
“Do you believe that?” Trudy asked gently.
“I don’t know what I believe anymore.” I met Trudy’s eyes, saw the sympathy there, the understanding. “I thought I knew her. I thought I understood who she was, what she’d been through, why she made the choices she made. But every page of this goddamn journal tears that apart. Every entry shows me someone I didn’t know. Someone I never knew.” My throat tightened. “Someone I’m not sure I would have loved if I’d known the truth from the beginning.”
Trudy was quiet for a moment, letting my words hang in the air between us. Then she said, voice soft but firm, “Maybe you didn’t know all of her. But that doesn’t mean the parts you knew weren’t real. People are complicated, Stephen. We all have pieces of ourselves we hide, even from the people we love most.”
I wanted to believe that. God, I wanted to think the woman who’d smiled at me in Purgatory, who’d laughed at my jokes even when they weren’t funny, who’d held our daughter with tears streaming down her face and looked at me like I was something worth keeping, had been real. That those moments had meant something.
But how could I know? How could I trust any of it when the foundation was built on lies? When everything I thought I understood had been constructed on half-truths and omissions?
“King needs to know,” I said suddenly, the realization hitting me like a freight train.
Trudy blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?”
“King,” I repeated, the journal still clutched tight in my hand. “This isn’t just about Christina or me or even Grace anymore. This is club business. Titan was his president, his mentor, practically a father to him. The lie about his death shaped club politics for a decade. Even once everyone believed Steele and Stone had done it, that belief changed the club, changed how they operated, changed the alliances and the feuds. I don’t know how things will change knowing they didn’t actually kill their father, but I still have to tell him. He deserves to know the truth, no matter how ugly it is.”
Trudy’s expression shifted, understanding dawning in her eyes. “You’re right. He does,” Trudy agreed without hesitation. She stepped closer, her hand finding my arm, warm and grounding. “But, Stephen, you need to breathe first. You’re still processing this yourself. You’re still bleeding from it.”
“I don’t have time to process.” My voice came out rougher than I intended, raw and scraped. “This is bigger than my feelings. King needs to know what really happened. He needs to understand the history he’s inherited, the foundation the club was built on. He’s making decisions every day based on what he thinks is true, and it’s not. None of it is.”
Trudy’s grip tightened on my arm, her fingers digging in just enough to keep me anchored. “Then go tell him. But, Stephen, don’t lose yourself in this. You’re allowed to be angry and confused and hurt. Don’t bury that just because there’s club business to handle. Don’t do what Christina did; don’t hide your pain behind duty.”
I looked at her, really looked at her, this woman who’d somehow become my anchor in all this chaos. This woman who saw me clearly and didn’t flinch.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” she said softly, her eyes never leaving mine. “And we’ll figure out the rest together. Whatever comes next, you don’t have to face it alone.”
I pulled her against me, hard and fast, needing the contact more than my next breath. I buried my face in her hair for just a moment, breathing her in. She smelled like flour and vanilla and something clean and simple that cut through the ugliness in my head, reminding me there was still good in the world.
“Thank you,” I said against her temple, my voice muffled and thick.
“Go.” She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, her hands framing my face. Her eyes were steady on mine, unwavering. “Tell King. Then come back to me. Promise me you’ll come back.”
I nodded, grabbed the journal tight enough that my knuckles went white, and headed for the door. I had to do this before I lost my nerve. Before I talked myself out of it. Before the weight of it all crushed me completely.
The Silver Shadows’ clubhouse was quiet when I arrived. Mid-afternoon, most of the brothers were out or working. I found King in his office, paperwork spread across his desk.
He looked up when I knocked. “Popeye. Everything okay?”
“No.” I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. “We need to talk. About Titan.”
King’s expression shifted immediately, going from casual to alert. “What about him?”
