After Glow

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After Glow Page 9

by Autumn Jones Lake


  “Rock, did you know my mother?” Teller asks.

  He snorts. “Apparently.”

  “How—I mean, I didn’t think you ever met her…” Teller trails off, realizing he doesn’t have any answers.

  “Has to be Tina,” Rock mutters. “My dad used to pay this girl in the neighborhood a couple bucks to watch me when he was gonna be out overnight.”

  Teller blanches at the name Tina. “My mother hated her name,” he whispers. “Her middle name was Christina… sometimes she went by Tina, even though my father refused to ever call her that.”

  “I never… knew that.” Rock clears his throat and sits forward. “I never met her when you started hanging around the MC. Saw her from a distance once or twice. But that had to be thirteen or fourteen years later. When Wrath and I hired people to search for her after she took off, we used her real name.”

  Teller shakes his head. “When… I had the issue with my mom and, you know, her boyfriends sniffing around Heidi, I told Lucky and Grinder. They’re the ones who had a chat with her. I wonder if she would’ve figured it out if I’d told you instead.”

  Rock looks over at him, and I swear there’s hurt in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Teller’s shoulders lift. “I was embarrassed.”

  “You had nothing to be embarrassed about with me, Marcel.”

  “I always suspected Heidi and I didn’t have the same father. Figured that was why my dad took off after she was born… but maybe he realized I wasn’t his. My grandmother always implied I was a bastard. That’s supposedly why she hated me so damn much.” He yanks his hand out of mine and rakes his fingers through his hair. “I have to get out of here,” he says, jumping up from the table.

  “Rock?” I urge, gesturing at him to get up and stop Teller, to do something other than sit there staring at the wall.

  At the door, Teller stops. “Please, don’t say anything to anyone. Especially not Heidi.”

  “Of course not. But where are you going?” I struggle to get out of my chair since it doesn’t seem like Rock’s going to do anything. “Teller, please don’t go off when you’re this upset.”

  “I just need to go for a walk in the woods, Hope. That’s all.” He reaches out and takes my hand when I’m close enough and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.

  After he leaves, I turn and face Rock. “Talk to me, Rock.”

  He tilts his head, eyes barely meeting mine. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Whatever you want. I can’t imagine how much this hurts.”

  “Jesus Christ, Hope. I’ve known him for almost twenty fucking years.” He folds his hands in his lap, staring at them. “Been real hard on him at times too.”

  “I’m sure he earned it.”

  The corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah.”

  “We… you’ve never told me about… you know, when you were younger. Was Tina… was…?”

  “My first?” he finishes, making air quotes.

  “Yes.”

  He sits forward, setting his elbows on the table but not looking at me. “I told you, I was big for my age. She started coming over to babysit me sometime after my mother died.”

  My stomach rolls because he was so young when his mom passed away. Thinking about this woman taking advantage of Rock as a little boy sends hot streaks of anger racing through me.

  “As I got older, she would show me porn mags or whatever. We started messing around… I don’t know, I was eleven or twelve? First time was just awkward and quick.” His mouth pulls into a smirk. “Next time lasted maybe two seconds longer? We fooled around off and on for a couple months. I started hanging around the club. Being with an older chick gave me something to brag about there.” His mouth quirks into a bitter smile. “My father caught us once. He congratulated me.” He shrugs. “Then she disappeared. Never saw her again. Figured she got tired of playing teacher.” He waves his hand toward the door. “Guess it was more than a lackluster performance.”

  There are so many things about his story that splinter my heart. I ache for the boy he was, who lost his mother, without a father who gave a damn, being taken advantage of and sexually shamed so young. Of course, I keep that opinion to myself because I doubt that’s his interpretation of events.

  Instead, I slide my hands over his and rub my fingers against his wrist.

  He turns and takes me in. “Every time you think I can’t get any worse, something else from my past shows up, huh?”

  “I hardly think this is your fault. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you or your father…”

  “I doubt I was the only candidate.” He lifts his gaze to the wall behind me. “I met him when he was about the same age.”

  A soft knock at the door interrupts us. Teller pokes his head in. “Hey, can we talk for a second?”

  Rock waves him in without answering.

  I place my hands on the table and push myself out of the chair. “I’ll leave—”

  “You don’t have to go, Hope,” Teller says. While he says one thing, the anxiety in his expression says something else.

  “No, I think you two should talk alone. If you need me, I’ll be right out there.”

  He looks so forlorn, but as I pass, he reaches out, and I wrap him up in a hug. “He already loves you so much, Teller. This doesn’t change anything,” I whisper in his ear.

  It’s a lie, of course. A lie meant to comfort, but I doubt it does the trick. An anguished sound comes from his throat, but he nods against me.

  “Thank you, Hope.”

  I’m out in the living room for maybe five minutes before Wrath prowls into the room and flops onto the couch opposite me.

  “Where’d everyone go?” I ask.

  “Up to the park.”

  “You didn’t want to join them?”

  He shrugs, but the intensity of his stare feels like he can peek inside my head and see the turmoil inside.

  “Where’s your man?” He glances at the war room door, giving me the impression he already knows the answer.

  “Still in there.”

  “Teller with him?”

  “Yes, why?”

  He shakes his head, then pins me with a stare. “Everything okay? You seem stressed.”

  I sit back, automatically rubbing my stomach. Maybe he’ll think my mind’s on baby stuff. “I’m fine.”

  “Those tests uncovered something else, didn’t they?” he asks with freakish certainty.

  My breath catches, and I shake my head. “I can’t, Wrath.”

  He nods slowly as if a lot of puzzle pieces are slipping into place for him. “You know I’ve called Teller Rock’s mini-me for years? Pretty much from the day Rock and I met him.”

  I let out a soft snort. “I’ve heard you say it.”

  “It’s not a joke, is it?” he asks.

  “Don’t. They… they can’t. I can’t yet. Please.”

  “Yeah, okay. I hear you, Hope.”

  “Don’t say anything. To anyone. He’s worried—”

  “About Heidi.”

  “Yes.”

  “Sounds like him.” He’s quiet for a few seconds. Even stops to tap his finger against his bottom lip. I’ve never seen Wrath sit back and consider what he’s about to say, but that seems to be exactly what he’s doing. Something resembling fear tightens my stomach as I wait.

  “What?” I finally ask, unable to stand the tension another second.

  “Z’s said it to you before, hell, I’ve probably said it, but Rock’s always been a damn martyr. Takes responsibility for everything bad that happens to the people he loves.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “It makes him a good president, a great friend and brother, but a real fuckin’ moody pain in the ass sometimes.”

  A short, nervous laugh bursts out of me.

  “He never cuts himself any slack,” Wrath continues. “Always worrying about how he could’ve done this or that better.” He jabs a finger toward the war room door. “This will be hard
for him to swallow.”

  “I think so too.”

  He takes a breath before continuing. “You’re not clueless about this life anymore.”

  “You’ve taught me well,” I agree.

  He doesn’t laugh at my lame attempt at humor.

  “But there’s still a lot of shit we do, we’ve done over the years you can’t imagine. It’s gonna hit him hard once he thinks about it.”

  He doesn’t mean wild clubhouse orgies. No, something much darker than that.

  The club solves problems with violence.

  More than once I’ve heard them say blood and cash are how debts are paid in their world.

  The guys have only briefly mentioned the way they took over the club from the former president, providing few details. But I’ve never assumed the old president happily handed over the gavel and headed off to Florida for a sunny retirement.

  And even though Rock didn’t say it in so many words, I’m pretty sure when Trinity went off with the guys to help them track the man who burned down Wrath’s gym and killed Twitch last spring, they didn’t exactly turn the culprit over to the police when they found him.

  In fact, Rock’s outright admitted he’s murdered to keep the club safe in the past. To keep me safe from his enemies. I can only imagine what he’s had to ask of Teller over the years. As a club brother, it’s one thing. As a father asking his son? Yes, Rock might see that differently.

  You’d think I’d be horrified, but I’m not. I trust Rock and I’ve never thought he makes careless decisions. Practicing law opened my eyes and changed the way I viewed the world, long before I met Rock.

  Yes, it’s wrong to take a life. But not if it’s in defense of yourself or your family. Not everyone plays by society’s rules. And some people are simply too dangerous to walk freely.

  Should Rock be the one to make that call?

  If someone’s a threat to his family, yes.

  That he suffers any guilt over those decisions tells me he’s not some sociopath randomly hurting people for personal gain. He may live by a slightly skewed moral code, but he still has one.

  As his wife, knowing and accepting these things, I guess my moral code is slightly skewed as well. I let out a humorless laugh at the thought.

  Wrath nods slowly as if he’d been following along with my internal struggle. “You understand what I’m saying.”

  It’s not a question.

  “This is shit timing. You need to be strong for him more than ever.”

  “Being pregnant doesn’t make me weak.”

  He cocks his head. “Come on, Cinderella. I can be a dick, but I’m not that big of an asshole.”

  “Eh.” I wobble my hand from side to side.

  He smirks. “It’s probably good timing for him. He’s so damn focused on making sure you’re okay, maybe he won’t have time to drive himself crazy.” His keen eyes focus on me again. “It’s shit timing for you though. You don’t need any more stress.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He sits back and runs his gaze over me again, but not in the salacious way designed to make me uncomfortable like he’s done in the past. This is more out of concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m tired—”

  “That’s not what I meant. How are you handling the news?”

  “Me? I don’t think it really matters what I think.”

  “Of course it does. Here you’re having his first kid… and you’re getting another surprise from his past thrown in your face.”

  I consider his words before answering. Think hard about how I really feel. The pain in my heart is purely for Rock and Teller. Not myself. I have no doubts about Rock’s ability to love our daughter with everything he has.

  More than anything I wish he’d been able to give that affection to Teller when he was growing up. That’s what bothers me.

  “I’m here for him.”

  “I know you are. But if you need help, don’t be afraid to ask me.”

  I swallow hard. For all his scariness, deep down, way deep down, Wrath’s incredibly kind and generous. Sure, he and Rock love to fight, banter, and get on each other’s nerves, but beneath that, there’s profound affection and loyalty between them.

  I want to say anything I can to reassure him.

  “Don’t worry. This doesn’t change anything between us,” I finally answer.

  “I didn’t think it would.”

  We’re both wrong. It may not change how I feel about Rock, but this…discovery…this new relationship changes everything.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rock

  You can ride as hard and fast as you want, but somehow your past always catches up to you.

  That’s exactly how I feel as I stare at Teller—my son, Marcel—who looks so fuckin’ lost.

  I stand and spread my arms wide. “Come here, Knucklehead.”

  He half smiles at the nickname, and I motion him closer.

  Years. I’ve known him for years. Called him a brother for over a decade.

  When he’s close enough, I pull him in for a hug. He’s stiff and unyielding at first. Then he sort of collapses against me, and for the first time, I hold my son in my arms.

  A son I never knew I had.

  “What do we do?” he mumbles.

  I steer him into his chair and take mine before answering. “What do you want to do?”

  He takes a deep breath and tips his head back, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Fuck, I don’t know.” Finally he stops and looks at me. “Can we take the test again? I want to… I want to be sure before…”

  I nod. Whatever he needs, I’ll do it. But fuck, looking at him now, I don’t need another test to see the truth. It’s been right in front of me for years.

  How blind could I be?

  Why didn’t I ever make more of an effort to meet his mother when he was a kid? Because I was busy trying to recruit Teller into the club for personal gain?

  Maybe.

  I try to focus hard on that time in my life, but all I remember are bits and pieces. Would I have committed each moment with her to memory if I’d known the impact they’d have on my life years later? How could I even understand at that age that the choices I made would ripple so far into my future?

  Actions—even the most basic—have consequences.

  “I’ll ask Hope if she can schedule it for us.”

  “Christ, we’ve joked about you being Dad for years,” he says, staring at the door. By ‘we’ he means Murphy and himself. While Wrath and the other brothers have made that joke about me acting as more of a father than president at times, Teller and Murphy, being the youngest brothers for so long, always meant it in a slightly different way.

  “Well, I knew who Murphy’s mother was, so I’m definitely not his father too.” It’s a poor joke with equally shitty timing, and Marcel shakes his head.

  “You think Carla knew and that’s why she was always such a bitch to us?” he asks.

  I’m not expecting him to bring up my ex-wife, so it takes a second to come up with a response. “I think she was just jealous of anyone else who had my attention.”

  “Hope’s not like that,” he mutters. “Shit, this is the worst timing. You’re finally about to have your first kid and now this. Christ, this is so fucked-up.” Finally, he looks me in the eye. “Do you want me to leave? Take off for a while so I’m not in your face?”

  The absurd question throws me. “What the fuck for?”

  His shoulders jerk. “I don’t want to be in the way or fuck stuff up for you guys when this is supposed to be—”

  “Stop right there. You’re not in the way. You’re my son.” The words come easier now. I can’t stop thinking of how much I have to make up to him. “The question you should be asking is are you ready to be a big brother again when you’re about to settle down and have your own family?” I try to keep my tone light, and he finally cracks a hint of a smile.

  “Yeah, at least I won’t have to break into garages and steal shit
to feed the baby waitin’ at home for me.” He cocks his head. “You sure it’s a girl? I don’t know if I can handle another little hellraiser like Heidi.” At the mention of his sister’s name, his smile falters.

  “I don’t want to explain this to Heidi right now.” He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “I can’t tell you how many times she’s said she wished you were her dad when she was growing up. Things are going good for her, I don’t want to—”

  Hearing that chokes me up. I was hard on Heidi when she was a kid sometimes. Thought she could be bratty and Teller spoiled her too much. Now that I know she was abused by her grandmother, I wish I’d done more to help Teller get custody of her when she was younger.

  So many regrets.

  My throat’s tight, but I rasp out, “I get it.”

  “And I don’t want to say anything to Murphy either. There’s no point making his life awkward by keepin’ stuff from Heidi.”

  Pride burns in my chest at how much the knucklehead who’s started a lot of trouble with his mouth over the years has grown up. “You gonna talk to Charlotte?” I ask because he needs to talk to someone besides me about it.

  He nods without thinking. “She won’t say anything.”

  “Good.” Charlotte’s a strong girl, exactly what he needs to help him sort through this mess.

  “Are you okay, Rock? This must be really fucking weird for you.”

  I huff out a laugh. “It’s such a long time ago.”

  “But you remember what happened?”

  “Some of it,” I answer slowly.

  He slaps his hand on the table. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions for you. Right now, I want… I don’t know.”

  “Whatever you need. I’m always here for you.”

  He stops and fixes his troubled gaze on me. “You’re one of the few people who’s always been there for me, Rock. I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked you for that.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for anything.” I stand and he does the same. “I’m proud to have you as my son. You need to know that. So whenever. If ever. You want to tell anyone. Go public. I’m leaving it up to you.”

 

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