After Glow

by Autumn Jones Lake

  Chaser turns my way. “Rock’s already done enough to help us out.”

  “Oh yes. Your latest fuckup. How is that?”

  “It’s been handled.”

  DeLova shakes his head. “We’ll come back to that.”

  I need to put an end to this now. “We’re not in the gun-running business.” I hold up a hand to cut off DeLova before he opens his mouth. “I have two guys in mind I’d absolutely trust to handle this. One’s a brother—one of our other charters. The other is a Nomad who does sensitive work for us from time to time.”

  Wrath raises an eyebrow. But he doesn’t open his mouth to contradict me.

  Mr. DeLova’s face twists with displeasure. “I hope you’re not suggesting Sway? He doesn’t seem like the word discretion ever made it into his vocabulary.”

  That’s true to a certain extent, but when it comes to business dealings, Sway’s always willing to stretch his vocabulary for money. Plus he didn’t remain president of his charter this long by pissing off men like DeLova.

  I try to convey that in the least insulting way possible.

  “You were here a couple months ago when his crazy suka caused a scene, were you not?”

  “A marital spat.” Shit, am I pissed that once again I have to defend Sway’s fucked-up personal life. “Everyone has ’em.”

  “You don’t.” He makes a rippling gesture with his hands that I’m not sure how to interpret. “Your wife is lovely. Beautiful woman. And never heard a sound from her.”

  I narrow my eyes, not liking the way he seems to have paid so much attention to Hope. To my knowledge, she only met him long enough for a short introduction the last time we were here.

  “Everyone’s different,” Stump says. “Some ol’ ladies got more spirited ways. Sway’s ol’ lady’s been part of their club a long time now.”

  DeLova jabs a finger in Chaser’s chest. “My daughter doesn’t behave like that.”

  “Don’t bring Mallory into this, batya,” Chaser says in a low, threatening tone.

  “Fine.” I sit up and tap my knuckles against the table. “You don’t want Sway to handle it. I got someone else in mind. Not affiliated with anyone. Sticks to himself. Harder than a motherfucker to track down.”

  “It’s more than a one-man job.”

  “He can put a crew together.”

  “A decent crew?” He cuts a scolding glance at Stump. “Not someone who thinks it’s cool to be interviewed for some bullshit documentary.”

  My gaze flicks to Chaser, who rolls his eyes. “They don’t work for us. And it’s been handled.”

  “You ever hear of such a thing?” DeLova says to me. “Wearing a fucking mask like it’s Halloween. Thinking no one will figure out who they are. What the fuck kind of nonsense is that?”

  “Nothing surprises me anymore, sir,” I say, although that is pretty damn fucked-up. Surprised Stump would have anyone that irresponsible working for him.

  He sits back, pleased with my answer.

  At least for now, he seems to accept my refusal. Never know with a guy like him.

  “I’ll let you discuss this latest screwup. I want to see my daughter and granddaughter,” DeLova announces.

  “She’s on her way over now,” Chaser says as he walks his father-in-law out.

  Stump’s almost apologetic about the whole situation.

  An apologetic Stump isn’t something you see often. I try not to be a dick about it, but the fact that I had to miss Hope’s doctor’s appointment to help him out isn’t making me feel too forgiving.

  Chaser returns a few minutes later. “Sorry about all this, Rock. It’s been a rough couple of months.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “It ain’t easy finding people you can trust anymore.”

  “I feel you. Why do you think we stay small?”

  “Not many are fit to wear a patch.”

  “Nope.”

  He sighs and slaps Stump on the shoulder. “I got our guy in the shed out back. You wanna come with?”

  Stump heaves himself out of his chair. “Yup.”

  “Hey, Rock,” Mallory greets me as I step out of the chapel after Chaser. “Look who I found.”

  Teller’s standing behind her, and he half smiles when he sees me. “Sorry I’m late, Prez.”

  I’m just happy to see him. “Hey, Knucklehead.”

  “Mal,” Chaser calls.

  “I’ll be right back.” Mallory squeezes my arm. “Don’t leave without seeing me, though. I have a gift for Hope. I felt so bad I couldn’t make it to her shower.”

  “Thanks, hon. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

  “Where you been, welterweight?” Wrath asks, thumping Teller on the back. “You missed all the fun.”

  Teller ducks his head. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  Wrath pats his shoulder and takes off.

  “Can we talk?” Teller asks after he leaves.

  “Yeah.” I put my hand on his back and steer him outside.

  Stump’s got a bunch of picnic benches behind the clubhouse, and that’s where we go.

  Except for a few Demons guarding several small brick buildings farther back on the property, we’re alone.

  Teller climbs on top of one of the tables and takes a seat.

  “Where you been?” I ask.

  “Canada.”

  I let that sink in for a minute. “Find what you needed?”

  He snorts and shakes his head. “No.”

  “Charlotte’s worried about you.”

  He runs his hand over the back of his neck and looks away. “I talked to her.”

  “Murphy’s worried about you.”

  “Talked to him too.”

  “You didn’t answer my texts or calls.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  His mouth twists in annoyance, forcing me into a different role than I’m used to with him. Not an MC president itching to kick his ass for showing disrespect, but a father wanting to take away his son’s pain.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “What are we supposed to do, Rock?” He bites his lip and stares up at the sky. “Am I supposed to call you Dad now?”

  He sounds more confused than angry. Although, if he were angry, I wouldn’t blame him. “If you want to, yes.” I snort and elbow him in the side. “Shit, you and Murphy have been doing it for years anyway.”

  The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yeah.”

  We sit there in silence for a few minutes.

  “Shit, just when I think I can’t hate my mother any more, something else happens.”

  “She’s… something.”

  He stares straight ahead. “This is a stupid question—”

  “I don’t think there are any stupid questions in this situation.”

  “Did you love her?”

  What a question. How can facing my past hurt more than letting old wounds and painful memories die?

  “Never mind. You had to be a fucking kid.” He gives me a sideways glance. “Did you like her at least?”

  That’s easier to answer. “Yeah. I liked her a lot. Looked forward to her coming over.” I pause and meet his interested blue eyes. “Before we got involved, I mean.”

  I take a breath and reach into my past for the sake of my son. “My father fell apart after my mom died. He earned the money and she took care of me. That was their arrangement. So, he didn’t know what the fuck to do without her.” I swallow down the pain and charge ahead. “I missed her so much. Cried a lot. He really had no patience for that.”

  “Jesus, Rock.”

  I can’t deal with any pity from him, so I continue. “He drowned his own sorrows in alcohol. Made him a fucking asshole and I resented the hell out of him. Really fucking hated him when he started trying to replace my mother with any woman who gave him a passing glance.”

  His lip curls with disgust. “He and my mother didn’t…?”

  “No. Fuck no. Not that I ever knew.” I close my eyes and try to picture th
e first time I remember seeing Tina. Unfortunately, all I get is a blurred jumble of combined memories and impressions. “He’d take me to bars and shit. I was nine, maybe ten, so he’d make me stay in the car. Got so cold one night, I tried walking home. Ended up getting picked up by the cops. I wouldn’t tell them anything, but they didn’t need my words once he showed up. Narrowly missed going to jail and having me taken away. After that, he asked one of the neighborhood girls to come watch me. Don’t remember her much, except she kicked me in the teeth with a fuckin’ wooden clog one night.” I stop and tap my front tooth. “Split my lip. Never saw her again.”

  “On purpose?”

  “Nah, I was probably trying to look up her dress or something.”

  He shakes with laughter. “Sounds about right. Go on.”

  “Tina was next. I think she worked at the gas station—”

  “That makes sense.” The excitement in his voice kills me. As if he’s trying to hard to piece our shared history together. “I remember her telling me about her first job selling cigarettes before she was old enough to buy them.” He snorts. “It’s why I was always so adamant about Heidi not working when she was in high school.”

  Emotion tightens my chest. “I was always impressed with you for the way you looked after her.”

  He shakes his head as if he can’t deal with those complicated feelings on top of everything else. Marcel’s always been so protective. I already know how much regret and guilt he has over the things that happened to Heidi. So, I let it go. For now.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says. “Go on.”

  “Right.” I shift my mind back to the past, trying hard to recall any little detail that might make all of this less awful. “He paid her to stay with me while he went out whoring and drinking. I didn’t mind. It was better than being in the backseat of the car until last call. We’d play video games, watch cartoons, normal shit.” I stop and try to remember when that changed. “I met Grinder maybe a year later. Started hanging around the MC when I could. Told my dad I didn’t need a babysitter anymore. But she’d still come around.”

  “Was your dad still paying her?”

  “Probably. I never asked.”

  He roughs his hand over his hair. Anger and frustration bleeding through every movement. “I remember you joking about seducing your babysitter when you were a kid. Fuck, I even remember Grinder making jokes about it.” He shakes his head quickly as if the implication of those old tales take on a new meaning. “Never thought you were talking about my mother.”

  The regret and shame coloring his voice propel me forward. “That’s not on you, Marcel. That’s me. And her. It has nothing to do with you.”

  Above us, the sky darkens and the wind picks up. A storm threatens to either cleanse us or drown us, but I can’t end our talk until he has the answers he needs.

  Finally, he looks at me. “It has everything to do with me.” The words scrape from his throat, raw and bitter. “You think she knew?”

  “It’s not an excuse, but I was a kid. I never thought—”

  “Jesus, Rock.” He lets out a long, slow breath. The anger boiling beneath the surface seems to slow to a simmer. “I don’t blame you. I can’t believe she roped my father… my…” He shakes his head.

  “What do you want, Marcel? What can I do to make this better?” I think I’d do damn near anything to make all of this up to him.

  He stares at his hands for a while without speaking. Finally, he lifts his head. “How would you feel…? Would you…? I want to take your last name.”

  My name? The idea knocks the air right out of me. In the middle of this intense discussion, I never expected that question. Or that he’d want to make such a huge change at this point in his life. Pride fills my chest.

  He stares at me, and I realize he’s waiting for an answer. “Yeah. Yes. Absolutely. There’s nothing I’d like more.”

  “Not now.” His gaze shifts to the highway beyond the clubhouse. “ I still gotta figure out a way to explain this to Heidi, and I don’t know how you feel about telling the club.”

  “I’ll tell ’em right fuckin’ now.” I need him to understand I have no reservations about claiming him as my son. “No hesitation. None, Marcel.”

  That doesn’t seem to lift the gloom off his shoulders. “I don’t want the name of some cuckold who was abandoning his son and a newborn baby girl without ever looking back.”

  “Whenever you’re ready. Say the word.” Shit, I have no idea how any of that works. “We’ll get your birth certificate changed, whatever we need to do. I want to claim you as my son.” I have to take a breath and look away. “I hate that I’ve known you all these years and never suspected. On some level I should’ve known.”

  With a laugh, he shakes his head. “Who knows? Maybe that’s why you didn’t kill me that night you caught me breaking into the garage trying to steal from the club.”

  “Maybe.”

  He snorts and gives me a hint of a smile. Then he shoves me away. “You know all those times you choked my dumb ass? That’s fucking child abuse now.”

  Even though guilt creeps in, I laugh with him.

  “Been pretty hard on you, huh?”

  “Thank fuck. Can you imagine what an asshole I woulda been if you hadn’t given me an ass-kicking when I needed it?”

  “You’ve always been a good man where it counted, Marcel.”

  He turns and looks at me sideways. “Only because you set a good example for me.”

  Behind us, a gunshot goes off, barely muffled by the brick walls.

  We both glance over our shoulder, seeking the source, but it’s hard to tell which building it came from.

  “Sounds like I missed a fun time,” he says.

  “That’s one way to put it.” How do I frame my next words? I can’t have him think I don’t want to acknowledge our relationship. But I’d be a shitty father not to point out the risks as well. “I have to say this. You realize in our world, you being my son puts you in even more danger?”

  “We were bound by loyalty long before we knew we were bound by blood, Rock,” he says.

  This kid of mine…damn.

  He shrugs and glances at the Demons’ clubhouse. “Chaser and Stump have learned how to survive.” His lips twitch. “Stump’s a way bigger prick than you are.”

  “Yeah, and Chaser’s slightly less of an asshole than you. What’s your point?”

  “Everyone knows you fuck with one Lost King, you fuck with all of us. You being my…father doesn’t lessen the reputation we’ve built.”

  He’s right. It still needed to be said. And so does this. “The club wouldn’t be where it is without you, Marcel. We wouldn’t have survived the things that threatened to take us down if you weren’t part of it.”

  “Yeah,” he says quietly.

  The storm that had been threatening earlier seems to lose force. The dark clouds above us drift apart and a few rays of sun break through.

  Maybe it’s the relief of talking this out. Maybe he’s saving the rest of his questions for another time. The air between us shifts. The staggering weight of what we’ve learned finally seems to lift from his shoulders.

  “You riding home with us?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I am.” He slides off the table and faces me. “I can’t wait to get home.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Rock

  I’m bone weary by the time we finally make it home. Wrath and I walk the path back to our houses in silence. He doesn’t ask what Teller and I talked about and I don’t offer. When we reach the bottom of my steps, he gives me a fist bump and takes off into the dark. Lights are on inside. My girl’s still up, and I can’t wait to see her.

  I don’t expect to find Z in our living room.

  “Hey,” I call out.

  “Hey, Prez. Everything go okay?”

  Hope struggles to lift herself off the couch.

  “Don’t get up, doll. I’m coming.”

  She huffs out a frustrated bre
ath. “I need to get up anyway.”

  Z jumps up and offers her his hand. I cross the room and pull her into my arms, giving Z a look he must interpret as back off because he puts his hands in the air and takes a step away.

  “You okay, baby doll? I missed you.”

  “Missed you too,” she says, giving me a quick kiss. “But I really need to pee.”

  I snort out a laugh and release her, watching her hurry down the hall before claiming a spot on the couch. “What are you doing here so late?”

  “Murphy and Heidi are down at Charlotte’s place. I stopped by to make sure Hope was okay and didn’t need anything.”

  I accept that answer. There are certain lines Z would never cross, and Hope’s always safe with him. “Thank you.”

  He nods and glances away.

  “She do all right today?” I ask.

  “I think so.”

  “Sorry, you had to—

  “No. It was fine. I… I didn’t mind. It was pretty amazing really. There’s video for you.”

  “Before she comes back, tell me. She all right? Her health, I mean.”

  I expect him to give me shit, but he sits up, pinning me with a serious stare. “Doc said her blood pressure was on the high side. Wants her to rest and watch her diet. But otherwise, I think everything was fine.”

  “Okay. Good. Thank you. I know this was out of your job description—”

  “Christ, you’re more than a fuckin’ brother to me, Rock. I got no issue helping her out. Don’t give a fuck what it is, you know I’m here for both of you.”

  It takes me a second to come up with an answer. “Thank you.”

  “Did you rat me out, Z?” Hope asks as she returns to the living room. I hold out my arms to her, and she hurries over, allowing me to pull her into my lap.

  “No ratting, Hope.” Z laughs. “You behaved.”

  She bares her teeth at him, but she’s laughing more than anything.

  Christ, I wasn’t gone that long, and I missed her. Bad. I’m twitchy. Need to get her alone and have her all to myself.

  Love Z like a brother. Trust him absolutely. Still felt the urge to club him over the head when I found him alone in my living room with my woman.