“Murphy?” Who else?
“They were inseparable long before I met them.”
“Marcel’s a good man, Rock. Maybe you didn’t know he was your son, but you raised him well.” I hope he understands I mean every word.
“Thank you, Charlotte. Appreciate that.” He stares at me and I force myself not to flinch under his penetrating gaze. “You’re good for him.”
“I hope so.”
“When did he call you? What did he say? He tell you where exactly he is?”
Although I don’t think Rock’s here to hurt me, I still want to protect Marcel. If he doesn’t want to be found right now, by Rock or anyone else, that should be his choice. “He called about half an hour before you showed up. He didn’t really give me any details, but he said he’s fine.”
“You know where he is?” he asks again.
Damn. What is it about this man that makes it impossible to lie? He should have been a lawyer. “Niagara Falls. I’m not sure why he went there. I offered to meet him.”
“But he wants to be alone?”
“Yes.” I gesture to the pile of papers on my desk. “I would’ve taken the time. Whatever he needed.” I hope Rock knows I didn’t choose work over Marcel.
“It’s not you, hon. He needs to be alone and sort it out. Maybe when he gets back, you two could take off together for a bit.”
That would be nice. “I hope so.”
“Everything okay with the house?”
The question has the flavor of fatherly concern, and for the first time it hits me, really hits me, this man isn’t just Marcel’s MC president—he’s going to be my father-in-law. “It’s fantastic. He’s in his country-boy element. He and my brother were discussing buying baby chicks and building a coop.” My voice falters. Why am I rambling about chickens? “Before the news.”
“If you need something while we’re gone, don’t be afraid to call Murphy or Z.”
“I will.”
He stares at the stack of files on my desk. “You ever deal with a case like this?”
“Like this?” A long list of the cases I’ve handled spins in my mental filing cabinet. Nothing seems to match. “An adult discovering paternity? Not quite. Children, one or two teenagers. But not an adult.”
“How does it work out?”
Holy shit. My earlier unease returns. What do I say that won’t offend him? “It’s hard. If the father already has another family, sometimes his first reaction is denial for fear of angering his wife or losing his family.”
“Marcel doesn’t have to worry about that. Hope already treats him like a…younger brother.”
“Yes, but you’re getting ready to have a baby. I think he’s worried this has lessened that experience for you somehow. To find out you’re already a father.”
“It hasn’t lessened anything,” he insists. “I’m worried he’s pissed that I didn’t figure it out sooner.”
The admission frees me to give my honest assessment. “Sometimes the children are angry. They feel abandoned. But I don’t think Marcel feels that way at all. I think he’s almost…embarrassed? He already has no love lost for his mother, and this only multiplies that hatred.” And oh, how I understand Marcel’s hatred.
“Shit, yeah. I don’t blame him there. But I can’t really blame her either. I doubt she knew. If she was with someone else…”
I refuse to point out that Marcel’s mother took advantage of Rock. Nice to me or not, he’s still a biker. Giving any indication that he’s a victim in the situation won’t be received well. “You must’ve been a kid yourself,” I say.
“Not that much of a kid, apparently.” The dark humor coloring his words reminds me so much of Marcel.
“Don’t take this the wrong way...”
“Speak freely, Charlotte. You’re not going to offend me.”
I’d like to believe him, but life experience has taught me to be careful with my “smart mouth,” as my uncle always called it. “I know you’re rather…stoic and don’t share your emotions. Especially with the brothers. Your role as their president doesn’t really afford you that luxury.”
His gray eyes widen and he nods slowly, encouraging me to continue.
“What do you want?” I ask.
He doesn’t even hesitate. “I want to make things up to him.”
“Rock, there’s nothing you can do about the past. But going forward, I think if you want to develop this…new relationship, you’re both going to have to be honest with each other about your expectations and emotions surrounding being father and son.”
He blinks as if I’d slapped him.
My body tightens with fear. Maybe I said too much.
Slowly, he stands. “Thank you for letting me drop in on you unannounced.”
I stand as well. “Anytime.” Did this conversation help or hurt the situation?
Either way, it’s only the beginning of what’s to come.
And nothing will ever be the same.
CHAPTER FIVE
Teller
A fine spray of mist coats my face as I stare at the rushing waterfalls. As a kid, I’d been awed by the powerful display of nature. As an adult, I still find it hypnotizing. Although now I have a much better appreciation for how dangerous the plummet to the churning waters below would be.
My phone pings, and I pull it out to check the text.
Rock: We’re riding out for a meet at the Demons’ if you want to join us.
Maybe Rock’s struggling with the news as much as I am. He doesn’t refer to me as knucklehead, fuckwit, or any of the other charming nicknames he’s given me over the years. His text almost sounds apologetic.
Or maybe I’m reading too much into a simple sentence.
Either way, I don’t answer, something that gives me a perverse amount of pleasure.
My streak of rebelliousness is replaced by guilt.
As much as I hate admitting it, Rock was one of the only people I could count on when I was a teenager. Not-my-dad was long gone. My mother was useless and eventually, she also disappeared. My grandmother kicked me out of her house at the first opportunity. The club was all I had. Rock protected me, gave me work, and encouraged me to finish school. It’s embarrassing to admit how much I looked up to him and wanted to be like him in so many ways. Murphy and I both did.
As Rock’s mentor, Grinder also took a special interest in my well-being. He was someone I felt comfortable talking to about my mother’s slimy boyfriends. Wrath and Z supervised me and looked out for me when Grinder and Rock went to prison. Once Rock got out, I did everything possible to help him clean up the club and turn it into a true brotherhood. A family.
I’ve fucked around on this fruitless “finding myself” adventure long enough.
I turn away from the waterfalls and lean against the railing. Absently, I run my hand over my thigh, the scars that are my constant reminder that life is short and painful.
Whatever my new relationship is with Rock, he’s still my MC president. I can’t keep ignoring his texts and not expect an ass kicking when I finally return.