“I know what you mean,” I mutter as I reach up to swipe the dampness off my face. “Did you know he wasn’t my biological father?”
“What? Who?”
“Isaac!”
“Hold on. Isaac isn’t your biological father?”
“Nope. The kidnapper…the guy who shot you was.”
“Holy shit,” he replies softly, making me think he’s telling the truth.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Barrett
“You don’t have to keep coming by here, you know,” Isaac grumbles when he stands up from his desk to meet me at the door of his office. “A phone call would take up less of my time and accomplish the same damn thing.”
“I can’t take the chance that you won’t answer my call.” I’m surprised he hasn’t blocked my number yet. That’s what Lyla did within hours of pulling out of my driveway.
“Can’t lie. I’d probably send you to voicemail.”
“That’s what I figured,” I tell him. “Have you heard from her?”
“Not directly, since she’s still pissed at me, thanks to your big mouth, but Thane says she got the job. She’s staying in Georgia.”
“Goddamn it!” I exclaim, and my fist is suddenly slamming into the wall. I drove down to Atlanta to see her, and that bastard told me Lyla didn’t want to see me again. Guess he was telling the truth, even though I didn’t want to hear it. She’s starting a new life in a new town, a new state, one without men in her life…one without me.
“I’m sure as shit not happy about it either,” Isaac huffs. “And you’re lucky I’m giving you that punch for free since I gave you that shiner.”
The first time I showed up at the clubhouse after Lyla left my house, Isaac met me at the door, his fist greeting my face.
I deserved it, I know. That’s why I didn’t hit him back.
Somehow, probably through Thane, he had learned that I’d told Lyla the truth about him not being her father.
“We have to figure out how to get her to come home,” I tell him while flexing my hand with bleeding knuckles.
“Lyla’s moved on, Fulton. Time to accept it.”
“If that fucker Thane lays a finger on her…”
“He wouldn’t touch her without my permission.”
“If that’s what you think, then you’re a fucking idiot!”
“Watch it,” he warns.
“There has to be something we can do!”
“Not after that truth bomb you dropped on her, there’s not,” he replies. “You shit up this bed, Fulton. Now you gotta lie in it.”
Lyla
“Hey, how was work?” Thane asks as I slip into the passenger seat of my car, which he’s driving. I know he misses his bike. We’ll have to go back for it eventually now that he’s well enough to ride, but I’m just not ready to return to the scene of the crime. Or “crimes” plural.
“Ugh, same old.”
“You were so excited to be working with one of the biggest animal nonprofits.”
“That’s before I realized I would only be getting coffee and picking up lunch for everyone. The most hands-on work I do for the organization is filling up the copy machine with paper,” I groan as I lean my head against the window glass. “Sorry, it’s just been a shit day. I got my first paycheck.”
“Not as much as you hoped.”
“Two weeks’ pay for running errands won’t even cover half of my half of the month’s rent!”
“No shit?”
“What are we going to do?” I mutter as I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I could put in more nights driving the old Uber,” he suggests, patting the dashboard.
“No. You’re already driving around twelve to fourteen hours a day. You have to sleep sometime!”
“Well, something has to give. We’ll run through our savings in less than three months at this rate.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“We could go home.”
“No! I’ll figure something out,” I assure him. “But, um, you should go back if you want.”
“Nah, I’m here as long as you’re here.”
“Why?”
“Because at least when I’m here, there’s no temptation.”
“No temptation. Wow, thanks, Thane. Way to kick a girl when she’s down.”
“No, offense, Ly. I wish you were my type. It would make my life so much easier.”
“Ditto,” I mutter.
No one will ever be able to replace Barrett. He’s the best man I’ve ever known – that I’ll ever meet.
I’m just not sure if I’ll ever believe he wants to be with me for no other reasons, and being angry at him for lying to me is the best excuse to stay away from him.
Eventually, the ache has to get better, right?
For now, it keeps growing a little worse each and every day.
Like usual, when I get home from work, I check in on the social media accounts I set up for Bruised Not Broken to see how things are coming along.
Things are great apparently since next week is the grand opening.
I’m so proud of Barrett even though I’m still hurt.
And for some stupid reason, I really want to tell him that in person.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Lyla
When I came to see Bear, to congratulate him on the grand opening, I had no idea that Isaac would be waiting out front on his bike like he was waiting for me.
“Lyla? You really are home,” he says as he climbs off his Harley.
“Just brought Thane up to get his bike,” I tell him. “He should be right behind me.”
“Yeah, I know. He also mentioned I could find you here,” he replies.
That little traitor! He’s been the best friend I could have asked for, but I should’ve known he still reports my every move to his president. “How’s Atlanta?”
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Yeah, it’s just fine.”
“Look, I’m sorry I kept so much from you for so long. But I did it to protect you.”
“Right. Sure.” I cross my arms over my chest and look away so he hopefully won’t see the tears welling up in my eyes.
“What I regret most is that I pulled Fulton into my lies. You should be angry at me, not him.”
“Oh, I’ve got enough anger for you both,” I tell the ground.
“Lyla, that’s not you. You’re not…”
“My psycho father’s daughter?”
“You’re nothing like that son of a bitch. And I’m sorry I thought you could be anything but the perfect, beautiful girl you are despite growing up without your mother and with a shitty father like me.”
“She didn’t really die in a bar fight, did she?”
“How did you know?”
“Calvin mentioned it before…before Barrett killed him. He said Mom wrote him a letter forgiving him, telling him she was going to take her life.”