“Fucking hell,” I muttered and reached for my wallet. Tossing enough cash on the table to cover the food and a generous tip, I got to my feet and walked outside with Sloane following closely behind me. I came to a stop beside her car and turned to face her. “Shall we continue this elsewhere?”
“I’m not sure what else there is to continue,” she retorted.
“There’s plenty to continue, and you know it.”
16
I placed my balled hands on my hips and demanded, “Did you cheat on someone when you slept with me?”
“Not a cheater, Sloane. Never have been, never will be,” he said with such conviction I believed him.
Exhaling slowly, he looked to the sky for a few seconds. “I’m not having it out with you in another parking lot. We can finish this in my hotel room unless you have another suggestion.”
I laughed derisively. “I’m not going back to your hotel room with you. Been there, done that.”
“No, Sweet Sloane, I’m the one who’s been there and done that,” he said in a tone that had tingles shooting through me.
I rolled my eyes. “Semantics,” I quipped. “Where’re you staying?”
“The Cherry Tree.”
Frustrated, I ran my hands over my face and sighed. My curiosity was going to win out, and there was nothing I could do about it. I knew going back to his hotel wasn’t the smartest decision, but he was right in front of me. And I desperately wanted to know what else he could tell me about Paige. “I know where that is. Let’s go get your bike, and I’ll meet you there.”
With that, he got into the driver’s seat and drove us back to the parking garage. “Are you okay to drive now?” he asked.
“Stone cold sober,” I admitted. When he continued to scrutinize me, I huffed and recited the alphabet backward. “Happy now?”
“Um, did you just have a stroke? Should I call one of your brothers?”
“It’s a field sobriety test. Or it used to be,” I laughed. “When I was four years old, my grandmother told me I needed to know how to say the alphabet backward, just in case. It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized the reason behind it.”
“It’s impressive. I don’t think I know anyone who could do that sober, let alone drunk.”
“Which is exactly why it’s no longer used as a field sobriety test. At least, I don’t think it is,” I said and gestured for him to get out of my car.
He shook his head and opened the door. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Okey dokey,” I acknowledged as I carefully climbed over the console and into the driver’s seat, magically managing to keep from showing my good girl to the world.
On the short drive to the swanky hotel downtown, I tried to gather my thoughts. So much had already been said, and I knew there was more to come. I just couldn’t fathom what else there could possibly be.
He didn’t send his brother to threaten me.
He didn’t ghost me.
He had a baby.
My phone ringing through my car’s stereo scared the living shit out of me, yet again.
“Frankie!” I shouted.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. The phone ringing scared me.”
“Really? What’re you doing?”
I scrunched my nose. I wasn’t going to lie to her, but I decidedly did not want to tell her what I was doing. Because she was going to tell me how stupid I was being, and I was in a place where I didn’t want to listen to reason.
“Going to The Cherry Tree to finish talking to Bronze,” I admitted.
“What?! Have you lost your mind?”
“We went to a diner downtown to talk, but a waitress recognized me when we started arguing. ‘O’Sheas aren’t welcome here,’” I mocked. “So, we’re going somewhere else. But let me tell you this real quick before we get there. I played the recording you sent of me and his brother—thank you again for doing that—and Frankie, I wish you could’ve seen his face. I wholeheartedly believe he didn’t know anything about what his brother did.”
“Okay, then why did he ghost you?”
“I don’t know the whole story. That’s when the waitress kicked us out.”
“Tell me the half-story, Demon!”
“He had a baby!” I blurted.
“Men can’t have babies, Sloane. Try again.”
“That’s all he said. ‘I had a fucking baby!’ Then Cunty McCunterson showed up. I’m going to find out which one of my brothers fucked her over and kick his ass. Why can’t they fuck women from other towns?” I grumbled.
“Focus!” Frankie snapped. “We’ll figure out how to punish your whore brothers later. In the meantime, what you’re doing is unsafe and a bad idea. There, I said it. Since I know you’re going to do what you want anyway, be safe, and call me as soon as you can.”
“I will,” I promised and pulled into the hotel parking lot. “I’m here. I’ll talk to you later.”
Taking a deep breath, I got out and found him waiting for me outside the main entrance. “We can talk in the courtyard if you’d feel more comfortable there than in my room.”
“Interesting choice. This place is a little froufrou even for my taste,” I said to buy myself some time to consider his offer. He’d done plenty to piss me off, but I had never felt threatened by him—not really—and I still didn’t.
“They have the best cookies out of all the hotels in the area.”
“You have got to be kidding me. You’re seriously staying here because of the cookies?”
“Hell yes, I am! They have kick-ass shower gel and shit too, but it’s the cookies that keep me coming back,” he shared. “So, what’s it going to be?”
“Since things tend to get heated rather quickly, maybe we should talk in your room for the sake of privacy.” Truthfully, I’d already shared the news of my sister while shouting in public once that night. I didn’t want to increase the chances of someone overhearing by doing it again, especially before my dad and brothers knew. Plus, I slipped my thigh holster on and concealed my handgun under my dress before I got out.
“Right this way,” he said and led me to his room on the third floor.
Inside was a standard hotel room with a king-size bed dominating the space. I chose to sit in the chair in the corner of the room. However, it was time for the shoes to go. Kicking off my heels, I propped my feet on the edge of the bed, crossed my legs at the ankles, and clasped my hands in my lap. “Ready for bullshit. Let’s hear it.”
Even if I got nothing out of our discussion, I figured at least some of it could be used in one of my future books. As much as I hated to admit it, Bronze bantered like a champ.
Kicking off his boots, he dropped onto the bed and mimicked my position. “You first.”
I laughed sardonically. “I’m not the one who has a baby to explain.”
He sat straight up and pivoted, then leaned in so he was almost looming over me. “I don’t have to explain my daughter to you or anyone else,” he seethed.
“Woah, back it up a bit, biker brute. That’s not what I meant,” I said, and bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from asking what his daughter’s name was.
Still staring at me with narrowed eyes, he stepped away and returned to his spot on the bed. “What did you mean?”
I huffed. Saying it again was going to make me sound like I was jealous when I had no right to be. Truthfully, I needed to know he didn’t cheat on someone with me. I don’t know if it had something to do with the way my dad always ran around on my mom, but I just couldn’t live with the thought that I had been the other woman. Choosing my words more carefully, I tried to explain without telling him my life story. “I meant explain about her mother. You said you didn’t cheat on anyone when you were with me. Is her mother not in the picture? And why didn’t you just tell me you were expecting a baby?”
“Because I didn’t know anything about her until she was placed in my arms the morning after I left your hotel room. She’d j
ust been born a few hours before. And then I found out her mother died shortly after giving birth. So yeah, the night I was supposed to come back to your hotel room, I was at the hospital trying to figure out what in the hell was going on.”
“You had my phone number, Bronze,” I said flatly.
“Yeah, I did. In my phone that got fried from being soaked in piss. That’s why I asked Copper to stop by the hotel and leave the number to the burner phone I was using until I got a replacement. The next few days were crazy, and by the time I got my bearings back, you were long gone.” He paused and waited for me to meet his eyes before he said, “I left your room with every intention of seeing you again.”
My mouth dropped open in shock, and my heart hurt for the little girl who would grow up without her mother. Regardless of how I felt about her father—and her uncle—that was a pain no child should have to experience. “I’m so sorry to hear about her mother.”
“Serious as shit, Sloane. I’m tired, and I’m fucking pissed. We’re not going to get anywhere if we’re not honest. It’s beyond clear to me that there’s been a massive misunderstanding between us. So, stop pretending to be surprised and spare me the fake condolences.”
Dropping my feet to the floor, it was my turn to lean in close. “How dare you? That wasn’t fake! I know what it’s like to not have a mom!”
“Enough!” he roared and got to his feet with his hands balled into fists by his side. “Tell me why the fuck you’re doing this or get the hell out!”
“I’m not doing anything!” I yelled back.
“Really? Remind me again. Why were you in Devil Springs?”
“I was looking for Heidi and Paige Coleman,” I swallowed thickly. “Because I had reason to believe one of them was my biological half sister.”
“Then you know what happened!”
“No, I don’t! I only know what happened to Paige. All of Heidi’s information was blacked out or removed from the police reports.” I dropped back into the chair, feeling deflated and defeated. “I just want to know what happened to make my sister commit suicide!”
His face paled while he took a stumbling step back. Catching himself on the bed, he sat down and dropped his head into his hands. “You think Paige is your sister?”
“I know she is,” I countered.
I braced for the argument I knew was coming. However, he surprised me with words I never expected to hear. “That’s not possible.”
“What do you mean ‘That’s not possible.’ Why not?”
“Because Paige’s parents are Walter Coleman and Phyllis Banner.”
“You said Phyllis was dead,” I pointed out.
“I thought she was,” he said simply.
“Bullshit.”
He shrugged. “Paige said her mother was dead. I had no reason to think otherwise until recently but believe whatever you want.”
“Whatever. That part doesn’t matter. Paige Coleman is my half sister, and I have a DNA test that proves she is. Phyllis could’ve had an affair and secretly gotten pregnant by my father. Alternatively, Walter could’ve known he wasn’t the biological father and adopted Paige. I’m sure there are plenty of other possible explanations,” I countered.
“Touché. Walter did adopt Heidi, so I guess it’s possible he adopted Paige as well,” he explained, effectively deflating my moment of pride by agreeing with me.
“What?” I asked in surprise.
“Walter married Adelaide after he and Phyllis divorced. Paige moved in with him, Adelaide, and Adelaide’s daughter, Heidi. I don’t know when or why, but Heidi herself told me Walter officially adopted her after he married her mom, which is why she changed her last name to Coleman.”
“What was her last name before?” I asked out of sheer curiosity.
“I don’t know. She never told me, and I never asked.”
I was in it to win it, and no matter how much it hurt to do it, I asked the question I desperately wanted answered. “Why did she do it?”
Bronze’s shoulders dropped, and he looked to the floor as he inhaled deeply. “I haven’t had to retell this story since the first few days of my daughter’s life,” he said and cleared his throat. “Pay attention, because I’m only telling it one time, and for fuck’s sake, let me get through it before you hit me with fifty questions.”
I sat up attentively and mimed zipping my lips. I could keep my mouth shut long enough to hear what he had to say—I hoped.
“Some of this I knew beforehand, and some of it I learned after their deaths; but, I’m going to tell it to you how it happened so it makes more sense,” he explained. “Paige and Heidi were stepsisters first, then sisters by adoption, and ultimately a couple. Everyone assumed they were married because they had the same last name, which is what they’d hoped would happen. I knew a little more than others because of the relationship I had with them. Paige had a long history of mental health issues. Occasionally, she would stop taking her medications, and Heidi would get her back on track. That’s how this all started. Paige quit taking her medicine. Then, Heidi found out she was pregnant. When she told Paige about the pregnancy, Paige left a note on the coffee table breaking up with her and moved out of their house while Heidi was at work. Several weeks later, Heidi was on her way to Precious Metals for a shift when Paige invited her to her new house to talk. Heidi went running at the chance to work things out with her. Unfortunately, Paige locked her in the basement, refused to let her out, and held her there for months. She was off her medications, and Heidi knew it. She tried to wait it out until she could talk some sense into Paige or until someone found out—whichever came first. Then, the baby came, and Heidi started bleeding. Paige shot herself after Heidi bled to death from giving birth to my daughter.”
I bolted to the bathroom and crashed to my knees seconds before vomit spewed from my mouth. I heaved and heaved until my stomach couldn’t heave anymore. Then, I fell back onto my ass and cried. I cried for the loss of my sister, the loss of what could have been my sister-in-law, and for the little girl who would never know her mother.
I don’t know when he joined me, but when I realized strong arms were comforting me, I crawled into them. Because I needed someone to hold me together after a massive proverbial hole was blown through my heart.
17
“Heidi is the mother of your baby?” I sobbed.
I felt him nod against the top of my head. “Yes, she was. Is. Fuck!”
“I’m so sorry,” I cried and hoped I conveyed the sheer sincerity I felt.
“It’s the hand I was dealt,” he said simply.
“It’s a shitty hand.”
“Preaching to the choir, Sweet Sloane,” he agreed.
Suddenly, I pushed away and looked up to meet his eyes. “Can I meet her? Your daughter. I mean, I’m kind of her aunt.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “She’s not keen on meeting people who’re openly violent towards her father.”
“I thought you were a conartist or something,” I defended. “I didn’t know!”
He got to his feet and helped me to mine. “I’ll step out so you can freshen up. You want me to call downstairs and have them send up a new toothbrush.”
Remembering my vomit breath, I slapped a hand over my mouth and moved as far away from him as possible. “Yes, please.”
After taking a few minutes to compose myself, I returned to the chair, but I wasn’t quite ready to continue our conversation. Thankfully, I didn’t have to.
“I need a shower,” he announced and disappeared into the bathroom without giving me a chance to say anything. Glancing down at the dress I was wearing, I decided to do as he said, and made myself comfortable. Already barefoot, I unzipped my dress and stepped out of it, exhaling in relief when the constricting material released my body. Then, I reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a T-shirt to wear. When I slipped it over my head, I inhaled deeply and groaned as his scent filled my nose.
I glanced down at the gun strap
ped to my thigh. Deep down, I didn’t think I needed it with me. I never would have followed him into his room if I did, but like my dad always said, “Your enemies will stab you in the back, but your ‘friends’ will stab you in the front while you’re watching. Always be ready to defend yourself. Always.” As a compromise, I took it off and laid it on the nightstand with my folded dress on top.
Crawling into the bed, I propped myself up on a mound of pillows and got comfortable. With my hands behind my head and my legs crossed at my ankles, I waited for him to exit the bathroom, knowing full well he’d only have a towel wrapped around his waist. Or I tried to wait for him, but he was taking forever. By the time he finally emerged from the bathroom, I had changed positions so many times I’d lost count and was in the middle of rearranging myself when I heard him turn off the water.
Scrambling to get myself back into my original pose, I bounced onto my back and crossed my legs moments before he opened the door and stepped into the room. And, damn, he did not disappoint. I’d just seen him in only his boxing trunks, and I’d seen him naked several times, but there was something about a freshly showered man with only a towel wrapped around his waist that I found to be beyond sexy.
“Nice shirt. Is that a hint?” he smirked and dropped his towel.
I gasped and glanced between his gorgeous and deliciously hard cock and my shirt several times before deciding to focus on my shirt and figure out what in the hell he meant. It’s not going to suck itself was printed across the front of the T-shirt with an arrow pointing down.
Realization dawned, and my eyes shot up just in time to see his boxer-briefs glide over his firm ass. “No, it’s not a hint. It was the first shirt I found. I didn’t want to rummage through your things!” I rushed to explain, my voice coming out fast and squeaky.
“You didn’t want to rummage through my things?” he laughed. “I don’t know you that well, and even I know you’re too curious to believe that.”
Bronze (Blackwings MC - Devil Springs Book 5) Page 14