by Jadyn Chase
“What’s in it?” he asked.
I jabbed my elbow into his ribs. “How should I know, silly? I won’t know what’s in it until I open it.”
“Well? What are you waiting for?”
My hand lingered over the pull tab. What did I think I would find inside—a letter bomb? If it came from Logan, it must have something to do with my father’s legacy. Did I really want to find out? My father left me so many things, some good, some not so good. Which would this be?
Brayden turned away. “Suit yourself. If you don’t want to know, you better throw it in the incinerator now and get it over with.”
I smacked my lips and smirked at him. “Of course I want to know.”
I snatched the tab and ripped. It tore the heavy paper. When I tipped it up, a book slid out into my hands. A length of aged hemp twine bound the whole thing together.
“That’s odd,” I mused. “This looks like an old photo album.”
I untied the binder and laid it aside. A hand-drawn sketch of the beach house stared out at me from the front cover. Scant pencil lines etched out the trellis and the porch where we now sat, but no one could mistake it for a different house.
The book’s spine crackled when I lifted back the cover. A yellowed envelope drifted onto my knee and revealed a large black and white photograph of a young woman. A faint smile played on her lips, and she wore her black hair twisted into a knot behind her head.
Brayden leaned over and peered at the image. “Who is that?”
I swallowed hard to get my throat working. “It’s my mother.”
“Maybe the book will tell you who she was,” he suggested. “It looks like a bunch of old family documents and pictures.”
I moved the envelope to my left hand to turn the page. When I did, I spotted a curling word written across the thin paper. Morgan.
Dread crept into my heart when I read it. What was this envelope? How could anyone write to me from so long ago?
I rotated the envelope in my hands and found the back flap unsealed. I slid out a sheaf of paper covered in that same looping handwriting.
The very first line caught me by the guts. My Dearest Morgan….
Brayden whispered in my ear. “Read it.”
I took a firm grip on myself and braced for the inevitable tide of emotion.
My Dearest Morgan,
As I write this, you’re sitting on the living room floor playing with a dry leaf. You just started walking about a month ago and you’re very curious about everything. As I sit here watching you grow and learn and discover the world, I can’t help but wonder how life will unfold for you in years to come.
I love you more than a man’s heart has a right to love anyone, Morgan. I don’t know how I can live loving you this much. I can only pray I’m man enough to be the father you deserve. I hope I can give you everything you need in life.
You’ll probably think I robbed you and lied to you for not telling you about Los Diablos. You’ll just have to trust your old man on this one. I grew up in Los Diablos. It’s a good place with incredible people, but it’s a hard life full of violence and war and uncertainty. People die in Los Diablos all the time.
I don’t want you growing up the way I did. I guess every parent wants something better for their child. That’s why I decided to raise you outside the club. No one in Los Diablos knows about you. They don’t know about your mother, either, and your mother doesn’t know about them.
One of these days, you’re going to come to me and ask how I could keep all this from you. I’m prepared for that because I’m doing it to protect you, Morgan. I’m doing it to be the best father to you that I know how to be. I hope you can find a way to forgive me.
Don’t hold it against your mother. I never told her about the club. I wanted your little world to stay separate from all that. Maybe you two can hate me together when it all comes out.
I love you beyond words, my beloved Morgan. You’re everything a father could want from his daughter. I’m proud of you beyond my wildest dreams and I know you’ll keep making me proud for a long, long time.
I won’t try to stop you from joining Los Diablos. You’ll probably find a guy and raise a family, too. If you do that in the club, I’ll be happy for you. I don’t say I made a better choice. Heck, I don’t know what the better choice is, but this is the one I made.
Be happy, Morgan. Build a life you can be proud of and I’ll die satisfied. I can’t wait for the day I get to show you the world of dragons and introduce you to Los Diablos, and I’m sorry if my choice hurt you in any way. I never intended that.
I love you. Your father,
Josiah Hunter.
I wiped tears off my cheeks. Brayden hugged me into his shoulder, and I buried my blurry eyes in his shirt. So that was it, the voice from beyond the grave. He did it to protect me, to give me a better life.
Now that the whole thing wound to a close, I could pity him for what happened to him. He never got to see me grow up. He never got to show me the world of dragons or introduce me to Los Diablos. It took Brayden to do that.
My dad would never get to meet Brayden. He would never get to see me finally claim the happiness he left behind for me. I cried as much for the things he lost as for myself. I could put the past aside and realize just how happy I was, and I had him to thank for that.
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