Page 35

And I thought about my mother.

I thought about all the things she told me. All the things I knew were true. Magnolia Price was her married name. Morel was her last name before she got married, at least according to Rex. The date of her death, the cause and even the location all came from Rex. Every single thing I believed about her came from his mouth. I’d accepted core truths from the mouth of a man who lied as smoothly as he breathed.

It was a mistake on my part, but it was too late for regrets.

Now was the time to find truth. Fuck regret.

I closed my eyes and I remembered specific things about her. Small and scattered details that created a sketch of the woman in my heart. I remembered a hummingbird tattoo on her right shoulder, small and brightly colored, the wings spread mid-flight. The smell of cinnamon and sandalwood that always reminded me of her. The sound of her laugh, which I couldn’t quite reconstruct anymore, only the feeling it produced.

I had the jacket that was left behind when she… when Rex… when whatever happened to her happened. I had my journal and my memories, and that jacket I’d been wearing since long before it fit properly.

That was it.

It had been so long since she’d been in my life that I didn’t remember much else about her, and that hurt so fucking bad it was a physical ache. Tears blurred my vision before I realized they were there. I put the cap on my lens and took off my camera, shrugged out of the jacket and sat down on the bank beside Skye.

She looked over at me. “Are you all right?”

I considered lying, but there’d been enough lies in my life. “I don’t think I am,” I answered softly. “But I will be. I hope.”

Skye was quiet for a moment, which I was learning was just how she was. Then she gestured to the jacket beside me. “At least you look good in your fancy jacket.”

Her words surprised a laugh out of me. “Fancy? It’s old, but it’s all I have left of my mom.”

Her brows shot up above the sunglasses. She reached over and turned the collar back, looking at the label with a careful eye. “This is vintage Colibri,” she said as if those were normal words that people understood.

“I don’t know what that means.”

She stared at me like she thought maybe I came from outer space. “It’s a fashion house in New York. High end, like, right up there with the fancy Italian and French luxury brands. Their stuff costs thousands of dollars. People who own Colibri items have serious money.”

“My mom didn’t have money. Maybe she picked this up at a thrift store?”

I looked at the jacket and thought about my mother, about what I assumed her life with Rex was like. Rex had money, sure, but he wasn’t generous with it, at least not to me. But maybe she hadn’t been the prisoner I imagined her to be, maybe he’d really loved her and lavished her with luxury.

Maybe it was just me he loathed.

That hurt in a way I hadn’t expected. I assumed that knowing how much my own father despised me was the deepest level of hurt there was. Until that moment when the grief hit me differently, because Rex was capable of love, he just didn’t love me.

We sat in silence for a long time after that. Skye pretended that she was totally Zen under the sun while I pretended I wasn’t holding back a lifetime of tears until the sun started its slide to the other side of the world. We packed up and started the drive back to the compound.

Jaeger, the prospect, moved back and forth, leading the way at times and following us at others, all in the name of safety.

I didn’t hear them approach. The first shot came from behind, blowing out one of the wheels and throwing us forward. Tripod scrambled and held himself against my legs as I tried to keep us on the road. Another bullet skimmed the driver’s side door as I swerved, white-knuckling the steering wheel and stomping hard on the brakes. Skye screamed as another shot blew out the back window. The truck spun and slid off the road and right into a tree.

It all happened so fast and then it was over. The sound of bikes speeding off into the distance. The truck smoked from under the hood, an alarming hissing sound came from somewhere else. Tripod shivered on the floor at Skye’s feet. “Are you okay? I asked Skye.

Both of her hands were braced on the dash as she nodded, breathing hard but otherwise she sat completely still. “In one piece,” she whispered as if she was scared a loud voice might tip us over. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. They came out of nowhere. I’m sorry,” I told her honestly. Guilt crept in and I felt shame heat my skin. “I should’ve just come out here alone.”

“Stop it, Ivy,” she insisted. “You don’t know that they were after you. They probably wanted to send a warning to the club.”

As soon as I’d glanced out the window and caught sight of the men who attacked us I knew it was Rex’s doing.

Jaeger called through the smashed window. “Everybody okay?”

I sat very still while I took inventory of myself. I was banged up and my shoulder ached like a son of a bitch, but I was okay. Alive. “Not dead, which feels like a win.”

His brows furrowed as his gaze tracked over me and then Skye. “Good. Knox and the guys are on their way. Don’t try to move, I’ll go check the road.”