by SE Chardou
I laughed out loud at that one. “That’s too funny. I guess they suffer from delusions of grandeur based upon what they read in all those popular MC novels, and watch on Sons of Anarchy. A whole generation of women are growing up thinkin’ they know what the biker culture is all about when they know absolutely fuck all, especially about one-percenters. I could tell them a few stories or five that would have them running from the compound screaming to land an Average Joe, get married, have their 2.5 kids with a dog, and the requisite white picket fence.”
Although I’d made a joke about it, I was still reeling about how his newfound family felt about me. I had been called many names in my life but classy had never been one of them.
Max turned to stare at me, a pained look of disbelief disguised behind his aquamarine eyes. He could always read me like an open book. “What, you don’t think you’re classy?”
“I’m not my mother,” I merely replied. “Now, she was a class act. Cool as a fan under the direst of situations, and I never saw her sweat. You would have thought she was royalty by the way she walked into a room, and had men crawling all over her like cheap suits.”
I shook my head sadly. “I feel like a complete imitation, no matter how many designer clothes and expensive shoes I have in my closet. Class can’t be bought. There is a certain . . . regality, and you’re born with it. Either you have it or you don’t and I . . . well, let’s just say, I take more after the Reynolds’ side of the family. I wish I had one-tenth the class my mother possessed. Perhaps I wouldn’t feel like such a failure when people compare me to her.”
Max never had a chance to reply as the door swung open and Miranda stood in front of us with a smile on her face. “Come in you two! Get out of the cold. It’s absolutely freezing outside.”
We both walked in, and she quickly took our coats after Max closed the door behind them. The house smelled and looked amazing.
Hard wood maple floors were covered with Persian rugs in all the right places while the Christmas tree was brightly decorated. There wasn’t a gift underneath it because she and Edward’s sons—Braedan and Killian—were deeply involved with their new gadgets in the living room.
“I’m still cooking though Edward, Sean, Chantal and Cricket are at the dining room table. Why don’t you two join them?” Miranda enthused with a bright smile on her face.
“How’s my favorite sister-in-law?” Max wondered as she led us to the dining room.
“I’m fine. Just worried about my husband. He says there’s nothin’ going on but . . . talk to him for my sake, Max. Anytime I know they are dealing with Aztecas Infierno, I get nervous. Hell, I’m part Mexican myself, and I keep telling the guys the cartels aren’t people you want to mess around with. When they’re involved in anything, things are bound to get messy. The club’s in way too deep, and I don’t trust those cartel scumbags as far as I can throw them.”
Max let go of my hand before I watched with genuine amazement as he embraced Miranda and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. Edward would never do anything to put you and the kids at risk. You’re his whole world and without you, he’s nothing. I’ll try my best but you know they are just going to put up that wall of silence and claim ‘club business.’ In that case, I don’t have a broke leg to stand on because I’m not part of the club.”
“You’re family though. His only full-blooded sibling. You’re twins for Christ’s sake—doesn’t that bond mean anything?”
“Miranda, you’ve been in the life long enough to know the club comes before blood family. All I can do is weigh him out and see how deep in the shit he’s in. I promise I’ll do my best.”
They separated and she breathed deeply. “Thank you, Max. You’re such a welcome addition to this family, and I’m so happy you’re here. You and Magnolia.” She looked in my direction and flashed her megawatt smile my way. “It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”
“Well, thank you for inviting us,” I said with a megawatt smile.
I had a feeling regardless what happened, we would have a much better time over here than we’d ever endured at my uncle’s cold palatial mansion.
I laughed again for what seemed like the umpteenth time.
Cricket told a story involving him and Edward’s last run and although he was smart enough to leave any incriminating details out, it was hilarious never the less.
I could honestly admit to being stuffed since I ate like a bird at my uncle’s knowing Max and I would be attending a second dinner.
Miranda had cooked a glazed honey ham, sweet potatoes in a brown-sugar sauce, mashed potatoes, Tamales Verdes, a fresh Caesar salad, and for dessert, she’d made a traditional chocolate log filled with Bailey’s Irish cream and Irish cream topped brownies as an alcohol-free alternative.
The food was rich, delicious and I’d had more than my fill but the woman was an excellent cook and I could see why Edward was loath to let her go. Not only was she a wonderful wife and amazing mother but she could also spend hours in the kitchen, and she loved it. Cooking was one of her hobbies—a fact I learned through casual talk as we all sat at the table. I drank sparkling apple cider while the men preferred after dinner Irish whiskey. Chantal and Miranda, on the other hand, both opted for glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon.
“So, when’s the wedding?” Chantal inquired, her blue-green eyes the same color as both Edward and Max’s, slightly flushed with intoxication.
I looked over at Max who sat with Edward, Sean and Cricket in the living room. Their faces all looked quite serious as they talked in low murmurs that could not be heard from the dining room.
“Oh, Max didn’t tell you? I want it to be as small and intimate as possible. My uncle is pushing for this huge ceremony but . . . that’s not me. I don’t need three hundred guests to proclaim my love for him. In fact, I’d rather just get it done quick in a chapel with only a few witnesses,” I explained in an even tone.
Chantal reached for my hand nearest to hers. “Mmm, well, as long as you plan to invite everyone here tonight then it’s all cool in the gang. I feel like we’ve lost so many years—not knowing about Max and his connection to Ed and me. I’m happy I’ve gained another brother and an absolutely gorgeous sister-in-law.”
“Even though you’ve called me a cheap, skanky ho on more than one occasion?” I chided teasingly.
“Yeah, that’s when I didn’t know who you were. All I knew was you were a hired gun—someone who did dirty jobs the club wanted no part of. I didn’t get you, not the way I do now. You’re not nearly as hard as you come off to be. In fact, you’re so elegant and . . . I don’t know—otherworldly?—would that be the right word? I’m truly fascinated by you.”
I blushed, taken aback by Chantal’s comments. I didn’t feel elegant or otherworldly and although my adolescence had been unique to say the least, I was the last to pull the “woe is me” card. There were people out there who’d suffered much more than I ever had, and they hadn’t turned into killers. They’d actually gone on to live productive lives.
I suppose I knew my situation could have been worse. I could have been an alcoholic or a drug addict, trying to numb the pain away but why would I do that when it was the pain that kept me going? In truth, I’d never felt more alive than after the rough sex Max and I had partaken in that morning. There was something about it that freed me of my demons. It was pleasure and penance wrapped in a ball of consuming desire for one another.
I couldn’t live without Max any more than he could live without me and in that, I’d found peace within myself to forgive him of any wrongdoings he’d inflicted upon me. I just had to work a little harder to forgive myself because I didn’t know if I was worthy of it. After all this time, after so much suffering, I realized I took a great refuge in it. I’d never escape my demons, and I’d never allow myself to live scot-free or guilt-free life. Yes, I’d known real agony in the short time I’d lived my life, but what about the nightmares I’d unleashed on other people?
There was no reset bu
tton, I couldn’t simply start anew, and I couldn’t clear my conscience of all the sins I committed by going to a priest, and spilling all my dirty little secrets in a confession booth. No, I would have to live with what I’d done, and perhaps that was the most painful part of what it felt like to be me.
I smiled at Chantal and squeezed her hand. “Thank you but really, I swear I’m just a normal, everyday girl. I have actually been talking to Max because I want him to be close to Edward, Sean and you. I want him to embrace the only part of his family that is normal and capable of love.
Miranda laughed, her drunken gaiety filling the dining room. “Normal? Honey, the club is far from that. I mean, I understand what you mean when you compare it to your uncle and his vast criminal empire but the MC is full of ordinary decent criminals. However, they’re still criminals.”
“True but there is a bond there. A feeling that the club understands what it means to be part of a real brotherhood; I know what I’m talking about. I practically grew up in an MC. My uncle . . . he doesn’t feel that way about anything. If I can be completely honest, he’s so far removed, all he cares about is money and eliminating his enemies. That’s not the way I want to live my life, and I am tired of looking over my shoulder all the time.”
Miranda and Chantal both glanced at me with worry and looks of trepidation in their eyes.
“Listen to me,” Miranda began in a quiet voice, “I know Edward acts all tough and irritated, like he can’t stand the thought of Max being his brother but believe me, it’s all an act. His whole life, he’s felt like a part of him has been missing. He used to tell me he must have had a twin in another life because he didn’t feel whole.
“Now that he knows the truth, he would defend you and Max both with his life. Hell, he’d make sure the club backed him all the way. You can’t forget Sean is an original founding member of the Saints. They won’t let anything happen to either of you so you have absolutely nothing to fear.”
I smiled at her. “Thanks for the well wishes but I know something isn’t right. We’re supposed to go to Vegas to take care of a job next week. Edward and Cricket are accompanying us along with Max’s annoying half-sister, Karina, and Vincent . . . my uncle’s protégé. Nothing about the situation feels on the up and up. There’s something Angelo is holding back from us and I don’t know whether it’s to protect us or him.”
Chantal looked down and began to play with a stray hangnail on her right index finger. “I hate you brought it up because I’ve been getting the same vibes about that trip too, and I can’t shake the idea that it’s rotten to the core. No matter how many times I bring it up to Cricket, he always tells me everything’s fine and it’s club business. I can’t really say anything in return . . . I mean, if it’s club business then he doesn’t have to tell me anything and I know that. We’re not married—he hasn’t put a ring on my finger.”
“That’s bullshit, Chantal. Edward tells me shit that’s going down all the time. Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t but I knew what I signed up for when I married him. Being an old lady isn’t easy but you learn to cope in your own way. I’d rather he tell me than not. I’m strong enough to handle it but sometimes I wonder, are they?”
I knew what Miranda meant instantly and suddenly our light girl talk became oppressive with so much left unsaid, I stood to my feet suddenly. “Listen, it’s been great but I think Max and I should head home. I’m tired and it’s been a long day. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I get further along into my pregnancy. If I’m this worn out now then how will I feel in four months?”
“Like you wanna punch someone.” Miranda laughed as she stood, walked over and embraced me. As we separated, she said, “You’ll get through it. You’re strong and you’ve got a good man at your side. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”
I nodded, trying to stop the tears in my eyes that wanted to break through and run down my face.
Chantal stood and hugged me warmly. “It’s so nice to have another woman in the family. Dad has his share of . . . um, lady friends but he would never bring them to a family event. I’m so happy you two are a part of our lives and this family.” We separated and this time the tears did flow. “And don’t feel like a stranger. You don’t have to come over here with Max you know. You’re free to come to the clubhouse or here anytime you want. Miranda and I have your back. You’re our sister now, and believe me, we’ll do anything to protect you.”
“Thank you,” I replied, not quite sure how to stem the tumult of emotions I felt. It’d been so long since I had a real family that I could instantly recognize while bonding over good food, great conversation, and genuine laughter. I realized how would much I’d rather be part of Max’s newly found relatives than my own. I adored Rose but she was all ice, and very hard to get to know. She was great when it came to interior design but she could never be a real confidante, mostly because I didn’t trust her not to go back to my uncle and tell him everything I’d reveal to her in secret.
So I did what came natural to me in difficult situations. I kept our relationship cordial but never really personal. When she’d told me about Vincent, and what happened between Angelo and my mother, I almost felt like she was telling me to assuage her own guilt, not because she really cared about how it would make me feel. I certainly no longer had any love loss for my uncle—any trust in him had been lost when I found out what he’d done to my mother. Although I would continue to play the dutiful niece who believed every word that came from his mouth, I innately knew I’d never be able to love or trust him again.
What relationship we once had was dead and gone, very much like my parents. If he could do that to the people I loved most in this world and subject me to such horror for twelve years of my life then he was truly capable of anything.
Max suddenly walked over and helped me into my coat before he embraced both Chantal and Miranda warmly. We both thanked her for dinner and said goodbye to Sean and Edward before we left.
I was drained, both physically and emotionally. I wanted nothing but to get out of my clothes, and surround myself in the warmth of Max’s body tangled with my own.
Once we arrived home, and discovered a nervous Vincent pacing our formal living room, I realized it would be at least a half an hour before I got my wish.
“How did you get in here?” I questioned defensively.
“Karina. She’s upstairs in her room packing a bag so she can stay over at my house for the next few days. I have to talk to you in private though.”
I looked at Max accusingly; he simply shrugged his shoulders before he leaned over and kissed my lips softly. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
“I won’t be long.”
I waited until Max had left the room before I guided us to an office downstairs and closed the door behind me. I flicked on the chandelier lighting and sat down on a comfy loveseat. Vincent sat next to me and turned toward me. I realized he seemed extremely nervous about what he had to disclose but I said nothing to calm him down. In fact, I simply glared at him with barely hidden irritation.
Are you the reason why our mother is dead? I wondered to myself though my eyes couldn’t belie the resentment I suddenly felt about him and his presence in my home.
“What do you want, Vincent? I’m tired and this has been an extremely long day for me. I want to go to bed,” I said without preamble.
Vincent stared at me before he shook his head. “Wow. Well, I guess old Rose couldn’t keep the secret to herself and you’re fully aware we’re related?”
“Yes. Apparently not only is our uncle a psychopath but he’s an incestuous prick who fucked our mother—his half-sister—and got her pregnant with you.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “That’s where you’re wrong. He slept with our mother, that is true, but Angelo isn’t my father.”
I opened my mouth to speak but closed it just as fast.
Vincent leaned over closer to me. “You see, Mom was in love with Riggs for years before she ran off with him. He would ride u
p from Vegas just to see her. While she was carrying on an affair with him, Angelo was also raping our mother. She didn’t sleep with him willingly. I know this because I found an old diary of hers she kept before she fled this place, and began a new life in Vegas.”
“What are you saying?” My heart thundered in my chest like wild horses. “You can’t be . . .”
“It was the only way she could get away. Lie and say that I was Angelo’s. She had to leave me behind just so she could escape.” Vincent stood suddenly and began to pace again. “She wanted to take me back after she and our father married but Angelo refused. She even threw it in his face that I wasn’t his and Riggs was my dad but he didn’t care.”
“Yes, he did.” I looked at my brother—my full-blooded older brother—and he stopped pacing and turned my way.
“Why are you so sure about that? Do you know something I don’t?”
“No, nothing I can prove just yet but it’s a pretty good hunch. Of course I won’t act on it, and I don’t expect you to do anything either. We just have to play our parts until he’s wounded and can be eradicated out of his misery. That might be years or decades though. Men in the Abandonato family have a tendency to live long lives,” I explained evenly.
“I don’t understand. What is it exactly you think Angelo did?” Vincent continued to stare at me like he had the answer to my riddle on the tip of his tongue but couldn’t quite figure it out.
“I’ll tell you what I think he did. I believe he conspired with Dimitri Koslakov to have our parents murdered but there’s no evidence because he’s too smart. Koslakov hires the White Knights MC to do his dirty work because he can’t have it traced back to him and I am kept in bondage for twelve years as a result.”