There’s a handwritten, cursive note at the top of a page showing a mug shot of a lean man, his prison behavior record where he was serving his time, nearly twenty years’ worth. On the next page is why – a list of all the charges he was convicted of.
I thought “kidnapped” was the most horrific word I would have to deal with today. Nothing prepared me for seeing the word “rape” over and over and over again. Three different charges of the combination of crimes, all for which the man was convicted.
“I don’t understand,” I mutter as I slam the folder shut, wishing I hadn’t ever opened it. “Why would this sick fucker come after Lyla?”
“I just told you!”
It takes longer than it should for me to remember.
“He really is her biological father?”
“Yes,” Isaac answers through gritted teeth.
“And you want to kill him? Lyla’s biological father?”
“Yes. And most of all, she can never know anything about him.”
I scoff. “You also want me to also lie to her? The killing of a rapist I could handle, but lying to her is a big hell no,” I tell him as I slap the folder against his chest. Lying would only come back to bite me in the ass, and I can’t fucking stand liars. For all I know, Isaac could just be setting me up to get Lyla to hate me.
“Jesus, Fulton. Don’t you get it?”
“Get what, Isaac?”
“Her mother and I were happily married. Laura was still recovering from giving birth to Laurel. We hadn’t even started having sex again, and Lyla wasn’t conceived from a goddamn affair either!”
At first, I can’t figure out why he’s telling me this shit about his family. But once I put all the pieces together and come up with only one explanation. “You mean…”
Isaac’s jaw is tight as he goes and leans his back and head against the brick wall, staring up at nothing in particular. “My wife was raped by Calvin Dockery, one of my so-called brothers. It happened in our goddamn house while I was out drinking at the bar!”
“Jesus. I’m so sorry, Isaac,” I tell him softly, but I don’t think he even hears me. He just keeps looking up at the sky, lost in the memories of a traumatic past.
“After it happened, she wouldn’t tell anyone at first,” he says without losing the thousand-yard stare. “For weeks, I knew something was wrong, that Laura wasn’t herself, but I didn’t know what. Then she turned up pregnant again so soon. That’s when she finally broke down and told me. We prayed the baby would be mine, pretended she was my daughter, even though we both knew she couldn’t possibly be…”
“You know that for a fact?”
He nods slowly. “I did a DNA test without telling Laura after Lyla was born. I just…I had to know for sure. Then when I did, I wished I could go back to pretending.”
“But Lyla looks so much like Laurel,” I remark.
Isaac blinks his eyes rapidly, his jaw clenched tight when he crosses his arms over his chest. “We were lucky that she took after her mama and not her father.”
“And you’ve never told Lyla that you’re not her father?”
“Have I ever told my daughter that she’s not mine, that she’s a rape baby? No, Fulton, I never wanted to have that conversation with her! I didn’t think I would ever have to tell her. The son of a bitch got arrested for kidnapping and raping three other women not long after he attacked my Laura, before I found out what he did to her. A forty-year sentence seemed like a long time back then. Laura didn’t want to come forward, so I didn’t force her to go to the police. She had been through enough.” He hangs his head. “Maybe if she had pressed charges, he would still be in prison and not out early, coming after Lyla.”
There’s so much to unpack here that I wish I had a gallon of beer. But I need my head clear for this shit.
“So, the man who Lyla was running from at the wedding reception and who shot Thane is her father?”
“Calvin was released a few weeks ago. I looked him up after you mentioned Lyla fell running from someone.”
“That’s why you had Thane keep an eye on her?”
“Yes. He got out two weeks before the wedding, so none of this is a coincidence. I can’t let that bastard anywhere near her! No telling what he would do or say…” He trails off, shaking his head. Pushing off the wall, he comes up to me until our boots are toe to toe. “Do you understand now why Lyla can never find out? It would destroy her, ruin her life! She would never recover from this. God knows I haven’t been able to, not when it’s the reason my Laura’s gone.”
“What do you mean? How did your wife…”
“That’s none of your fucking business,” he snaps, putting an end to that topic.
“So, what are you going to tell Lyla about the man who shot Thane and tried to kidnap her?”
“If she asks, we’ll say it was a rival club – some little shithole MC from Tennessee, that they’re after her to try and extort me.”
“And you think she’ll believe you?”
“She has to, and he has to die before he has a chance to take her from me and tell her the truth.”
“How did he even find out she’s his?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but it has to be him,” he says. “Are you going to help us keep her safe or not, Fulton?”
“What do you need me to do?”
He slaps the folder against my chest. “The army trained you to be a decent shot, right?”
“Ah, yeah. I mean, I’m better than decent.”
“Good, because I’ve already got one man down, and Lyla’s too stubborn to let me keep an eye on her. Are the Savage Kings worthless, or will they help keep her safe too?”
“My brothers will help,” I tell him. “But I don’t like having to lie to her.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t exactly enjoyed it myself these past twenty-one years. You get used to it when it means protecting someone you care about. You do care about Lyla, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then here’s your chance to prove it to me, Fulton. I want her to stay with you.”
“Stay with me?” I say in surprise. “Like at my house?”
“Keep her close, inside at all times unless you’re with her. You hear me? You need to be armed and ready every second of the day and night. My men and I will hunt the bastard down, hopefully take him out before he finds her again.”
“Where is she right now?” I ask.
“Still at the hospital. She refused to leave until Thane was out of surgery. Most of my men are with her. I’ll let them know you’re coming to pick her up and give you my number in case there are any problems.”
“Okay,” I agree. I’ll need to ask RJ and my dad, but RJ won’t care if Lyla crashes with us. And my dad, well, he doesn’t come home most nights. I guess he prefers the beds of random women to his own.
“Make sure your brothers know about our peace agreement, just not the details. I don’t want them coming after me if you screw up and get yourself killed.”
Since it’s easier to ask forgiveness rather than permission, I figure I’ll just wait to fill Remy, Colt, and RJ in on what’s going on once Lyla’s by my side.