by Erin Bevan
His mom pulled to a stop and got out with a smile. “Tyler, baby.”
Always her baby.
“I’ve missed you.”
He sauntered over and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you, too, Mom. There are some people inside I’d like you to meet. Where’s your bag?”
“Trunk.” She reached inside the little excuse of a vehicle and popped the latch. “Who’s in the house?”
“Annie, the girl I told you about, and Father. The leader of the biker group I’ve been involved with.”
“I’m so glad you’re making such a great start here. I’m happy for you.” She ruffled his hair.
Tank pulled his head back. “Ma, my hair.”
“Ha! Since when are you one to care about your appearance? This Annie gal must be pretty special.”
“She is.” He nodded. “Very special.”
“Oh, my baby’s in love.” She pulled him in for a side hug and squeezed. “I’m excited to get to meet her.”
Annie being the first woman he’d ever introduced to his mom felt right and sure. The connection the two of them shared, undeniable, and a part of him was excited the two women he loved were meeting.
They charged up the steps, and he held the door open. Annie and Father sat at the kitchen table. The leader had his back toward them, pouring some coffee from the carafe on the table, while Beauty stood and offered him a warm smile.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet Annie.”
She walked around the table, and gave his mom a warm hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Ms. Wilde.”
“You as well, Annie, and it’s Clara dear. Tyler thinks very highly of you.”
Beauty gave him a little wink. “And I can assure you, I think highly of him as well.”
Father stood and turned.
“And mom, this is Father.”
The two locked gazes, and all coloring seem to leave his mother’s face.
“Ma? You okay?”
“Oh my God.” She tossed a hand to her mouth. “Jack?”
“Harley?” Father asked, his eyes big in question.
Jack? Harley?
“Wait?” Tank glanced from his mother to the leader and back again. “How do you know his name is Jack? And you.” He glanced at Father. “What do you mean, Harley?”
The leader fell back in his chair.
“Tyler.” His mother gripped his arm, her face even whiter. “I need to sit down.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Here.” He rushed to help her to a chair.
Slowly, she sat beside Father and stared at him like she saw an apparition.
Annie flipped her gaze between him and the two sitting. “I don’t understand.”
Neither did he, but a dim light started to spark in his mind, slowly shining brighter and brighter through the muck of his knowledge as he started to place the pieces together. Father’s last true love, his one night-stand all those years ago…
Mom?
“That’s her.” Father turned his head up toward him. “That’s the woman I told you about.”
“The woman you were in love with? My mom? This doesn’t make any sense. Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He nodded, his stare still wide-eyed, as if he couldn’t believe the words he was saying.
“Wow."
Tank glanced at his mother. She’d been alone all these years, ever since his dad went to prison. Now, she sat across from a man who, at one time, had loved her. Still did according to the conversation the two of them had over the weekend. Tank glanced at Annie. The one woman on this earth he loved more than anything, and his heart swelled. He wanted love like that, like this, for his mother.
Maybe, her and Jack could finally have their chance.
“Well, congratulations on finding each other again, I guess?” He gave his mother a slight smile, her face still ashen. “Ma, you okay?”
“Tyler.” His mother glanced up at him, her voice low, and her eyes still full of disbelief. “There’s more, and I think you should sit down.”
He didn’t like the sound of this.
“I’m good.” He crossed his arms. “Just tell me. What’s up?”
“Please, Tyler. Sit down.”
Her gaze pleaded with him. The same desperate gaze she’d had when she begged him to tell her what all his father had done to him. A weight sunk in his gut like an anchor as he recalled the events, the emotions. Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
“Mom, just tell me.” The anticipation of what she was going to say had to be worse than her news.
“Tyler, ple—”
“Mom, just say it.”
Annie gripped a hand around his bicep. “Tyler, honey, calm down.”
He gave her a gentle smile. Last thing he needed was to scare her. “I’m calm, babe” He pulled her in close and lowered his voice. “Mom, just tell me. What is it you have to say?”
“Well.” She curled her hands in her lap and fidgeted with her fingers. “I don’t really know how to tell each of you this, but Tyler, I’d…I’d like to…”
He fidgeted, growing impatient. “To what?”
Annie squeezed her grip on his arm again, warning him against his tone. His mother was taking too long. The heaviness in his stomach grew, making him wish he had taken a seat.
His mom took in a deep breath. “Jack is…well… He’s your real father.”
The weight in his stomach dropped to his feet, and his head began to spin. The muscles in his biceps tensed, and he let go of Annie before he squeezed her to death.
Father, his father?
Surely not.
The leader’s story echoed in his mind, the words swirling around and together like his brain was on a tilt-a-whirl. How many years ago was that one-night stand?
A swollen belly, a ring on her hand, and she doted over some man. Obviously, her husband.
His mother’s good time before she settled down. Father?
“My…my father?”
She nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“Oh, shit.” Father slumped in his chair. “Are you sure, Harley?”
The mention of his mother’s nickname suddenly had his veins burning.
“Yes.” She turned to the leader. “I questioned myself for a long time, but now, seeing the two of you together, how can you not see the resemblance?”
Annie focused on the Guardian leader then back at him. “Oh my God, she’s right.”
The muscles in his jaw twitched. “Just because we look alike doesn’t mean he’s my father.” A lot of people looked alike. It didn’t mean they were related.
“Ty, baby, I can’t imagine what this is like for you, but it’s true. I didn’t know how to get a hold of Jack after I found out, otherwise, I would have tried.”
Would have tried. She hadn’t tried at all.
“Well, you should have tried harder. Both of you should have tried harder.” His voice escalated as his head continued to spin. His past, his torture…all of it preventable.
“All that time of being abused by a man I thought was my father,” he said, his teeth clenched. “A man who I wanted more than anything to love me, and I prayed over and over he would, and that he would stop hurting me.” His heart sped and his lungs felt like they were constricting, squeezing his other organs to his throat. “All that time, and he was nothing more than what? Just some man you could pawn off as pretending to be my dad?” he ground out the last words, his temper bubbling to nearly uncontrollable. Years of anger, pain, and frustration he’d tried to push down, delete from his past, came simmering back to the surface. His fists balled, the skin on his knuckles daring to crack from the pressure.
Annie scooted toward the table, and Alfred whined beside her.
Seeing her move away from him as a slight expression of fear passed over her face brought his anger down. He unclenched his fists and forced himself not to punch the wall, or take his anger out on any object. Despite his rage, he would have better control of himself. For her.
/> “Tank, that’s enough,” Father reprimanded.
He glared at the man and controlled his voice. “Just because you may be my actual biological father, doesn’t mean you get to act like my dad, old man.”
“Tyler, I understand you’re upset—”
“Upset?” Tank paced. “Upset doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling. I have to leave. I have to get out of here.” He grabbed his helmet off the hook by the door.
“Tyler.” Annie reached for him.
His heart and head spun with sorrow, with anger, with love. Love for her. His rock.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a tight hug, kissing her hairline. “Not now, babe.” He whispered near her ear. “I’m sorry I scared you. I love you, but I need to be alone right now.”
She nodded. “I understand, and I love you,” she whispered back.
“I know.” He released his hold on her and didn’t even so much as offer his mother or Father a passing glance.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Annie stared at the two people at the kitchen table.
Tyler’s biological parents.
Seeing him in so much pain as his mother told him the news, so broken, and so mad, she would have given anything to trade places with him. He’d suffered enough in his past.
Picturing that shy boy across the river holding his fishing pole almost too scared to glance up at her, she’d often wondered if maybe he didn’t like her. Still, she had been drawn to him like a star to a constellation, a place in her heart being shaped just for him since she was a girl.
As a child, she never could have understood him or his pain. Now, as adults, the realization sliced through her core. She had to help him.
“What…what should we do?”
“Let him be,” Clara said. “He’ll come around, and when he does, he’ll have questions.”
“Harley.” Father stared at the other woman, a state of shock still etched on his face.
“It’s Clara. Clara Wilde.” The mother folded her delicate hands in her lap as her shoulders slumped. “What’s your real name?”
“Wait…you two don’t actually know each other’s names?” She glanced back and forth between the two of them. “How is that possible if you are Tyler’s father?”
“Annie, you might want to have a seat. I’ll get us all some fresh coffee.” Father stood, taking the coffee carafe that sat in the middle of the table with him.
“Well, I have to admit, this isn’t exactly how I planned our first meeting going,” Clara said. “And please, don’t judge me, Annie, until you know the truth.”
Father placed a coffee cup down in front of Clara.
“I’m listening,” she said as she took a seat across the table.
“Jack and I, we met at a time in my life when I was with someone else. A man I thought was good. A man I thought I wanted to marry, but he was moving a little slower than I wanted. I was in my early twenties. Young and naïve. Jack, here, he came into the restaurant I worked at, and something about him caught my attention.” She passed a subtle glance toward Father. “You were different. Charming, ruggedly handsome, dare I say exotic from the men I’d seen. Something about you enticed me.”
Father nodded. “Same here, Harley.”
Clara stared back at her; the woman’s hands trembled on her coffee mug. “I told myself that I was allowed one exciting night in my life. Nothing about Mark excited me like Jack did, but I could tell he wasn’t one to settle down. He was only passing through after all.” She took a sip of her coffee.
“So, you thought what harm could one night do?” Annie asked.
“Yes, I did.” Clara nodded. “That’s why I didn’t even tell him my name. I figured it was all meaningless anyway, but what happened next, I didn’t expect.”
“You wound up pregnant.” Father took his seat again, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair.
“Yes, and I was scared. I wasn’t certain who the father was. I suspected you, Jack, but I had no proof. Not without a DNA test.” She gave Father a sad glance. “I wished, God how I wished, I knew where you were or even what your name was. I wanted to tell you so bad. I felt such a deeper and stronger connection with you than I ever did with Mark. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, but I knew my feelings were one sided. After all, how can you love someone after one night?” Clara clutched her mug tighter, perhaps to help ease the tremble in her hands. “Besides,” she continued, “I figured if you cared for me like I had begun to care for you, you would have come back. And since you didn’t, I took that as a sign that my baby was with the dad he was supposed to have.”
All of Tyler’s pain because two people wanted no strings attached.
Annie knew it wasn’t her place to judge. But still, she couldn’t help but be angry with these two right now. Father was a good man, and while she didn’t know Clara personally, the woman was Tyler’s mother, and he was wonderful, so this lady had to have redeeming qualities to raise such a magnificent son. However, Annie had a hard time seeing the good in either of them right at the moment.
“So, you married another man and passed Tyler off as his son because you were unsure who the real father was?”
What a bold move.
“Yes. I didn’t have much money, and I had no idea how I would raise a child on my own. I married Mark for the sake of my baby, or so I thought at the time. I’m not happy about what I did, or how I handled things. Especially after, well after…”
“After what that monster did to him,” Father finished. He pushed his chair back, the legs screeching on the wood floor. “Damn it.”
“I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t know for sure who the father was, and I didn’t know how to get a hold of you. It wasn’t until Tyler got older that I began to really see the resemblances in you two, but even still, I only met you once. I tried to convince myself I was wrong. That I’d forgotten what you really looked like. I can see now that I didn’t.”
“I don’t blame you, Harley. I’m just as much to blame as you, but you want to know what’s the worst about all of this?” He paced and stared back at Clara. “I did come back. I came back for you. But I saw you through the window of the restaurant, pregnant and sitting on some man’s lap with a ring on your finger. I knew I had missed my chance, so I left. Christ. I left.” The man let out a ragged breath.
“I’m so sorry, Jack.” Tears spilled from Clara’s eyes. “I blame myself for everything. If I hadn’t insisted on us keeping our names secret, none of this would have happened. I could have protected my child like a mother is supposed to do. But I swear to you both, I had no idea Mark was the way he was until it was too late. I swear it.” Tyler’s mother broke down in sobs, the cup falling loose from her hand, and coffee sloshed over the table.
Annie reached for a napkin and busied herself with cleaning, soaking in all the information. Despite what that monster, Mark, did to Tyler, she tried to place herself in Clara’s shoes. Poor, baby on the way, uncertain of the real father…who’s to say she wouldn’t have done the same thing. No one can predict the future. She of all people understood that.
“Oh, Clara.” She tossed the towel aside and grabbed the woman’s hand. “You couldn’t help what your husband did to Tyler. And I know deep down, he doesn’t blame you.”
“But it’s my fault. All of it.”
Father grabbed his chair, flipped it around, and straddled it, his chest hitting the back. “Harley, baby, none of this is completely your fault. I should have manned up. Walked in that restaurant and told you how I felt.”
“How you felt? What do you mean?”
“I fell in love with you that night, and I haven’t got you out of my mind since.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” He reached for Clara’s free hand.
“Oh, Jack. What do we do about our son? What about Tyler?”
“Like you said. We’ll give it some time. He’ll come back. Annie’s here, and he loves her. We’ll just wait him out.”
> Tyler did love her. The feeling in Annie’s chest, the warmness of his embrace when he held her, the way his eyes glimmered when he stared at her in the mornings just after waking up, all told her he loved her. And the heaviness that set in her chest thinking about his pain reminded her of how much she loved him.
Clara squeezed her hand again, and cut through her thoughts.
“I’m glad he has you.”
“I’m glad I have him. He’s been there for me through everything. I’ll be here for him.” She just wished she knew what to do to help him.
“Thank you,” Clara said.
Annie wrapped the woman in a hug and reached for Father’s hand as fresh, solid tears welled in her eyes. She choked back a sob for the man she loved and another one for his two heartbroken parents, their embrace making a circle of love, for Tyler. She had no idea how she would help him, but she would. She had to.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Just great. Tank pulled up in his driveway. Father’s motorcycle was still there. His beloved Harley.
His mother, Harley.
His real dad, Father.
How much worse could things get?
And Annie. What would she think when he went in and didn’t speak? He wasn’t mad at her, but he wasn’t ready to talk yet either. God, this was all so messed up.
He turned off his bike then pushed the kickstand down. As much as he didn’t want to walk inside, it was his house after all. The rest of them needed to leave. Except Beauty. Even though he wasn’t ready to speak, he needed her there. Her love provided the only reassurance in the entire clusterfuck of events.
He stomped up the steps, opened the door, and charged over the threshold. Everyone sat around the dining room table, staring at him.
“Tyler, you’re back.” His mother stood.
Holding out his hands, palms up, he said, “Stop. I’m not ready to talk to anyone, okay? Just let me be.”