Blizzard: (The Brotherhood Journals Book One)

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Blizzard: (The Brotherhood Journals Book One) Page 3

by Jane, Addison


  I’d always hated the hospital, but now the smell and the feel of the place hit me hard for another reason.

  It reminded me of that day.

  I stared at the letter in my hands.

  Even through all the bullshit, I’d suffered during the last year, I’d still managed to finish college. Although I had a suspicion that my uncle had a hand in making it possible. He had a fat checkbook and a lot of pull. The college had given me two months to complete the last couple of assignments that I’d missed.

  I knew that wasn’t normal but hey, I wasn’t about to object. Might as well make the most of my new-found family’s power.

  The only flaw, I had to go back to Athens and pick up my degree in person and get it signed off by the Dean.

  I threw the piece of paper onto the bed beside me and it fluttered through the air, slipping over the edge and onto the floor.

  I groaned.

  Was I ready to return to the scene of the crime?

  “Wow, wouldn’t want the wind to change now and have your face stuck like that.” Rico leaned against the doorframe. “What’s with the frowny face?”

  Stepping into the room, he spotted the paper on my floor and reached down to pick it up. I watched as he scanned it. His brow creased as if he was scowling at the words. “This is bullshit, they can’t make you go back there just to pick it up.”

  “I have to. That’s the only stipulation that I pick it up in person.”

  He shook his head. “I’m going to talk to Dad. There’s got to be something he can do about this.”

  I reached out to him before he walked out the door. “Rico please, he’s done enough for me as it is. If this is what I need to do, then I need to do it.”

  Rico was protective. We’d formed a really great relationship but as much as I loved that he’d taken the older brother type role, I couldn’t let them protect me from everything. Between Rico and Angelo, they had both taught me ways to be stronger and I felt like I’d grown in both body and mind.

  I was ready for this.

  I was ready to go back.

  “I could come…”

  I smiled. “Rico, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

  He screwed up his face. “Well, how ‘bout we go down to the gym and hit the boxing ring. Just so I know that if you come across anyone, you’re prepared.”

  I laughed and bounced off the bed. Angelo had been adamant that I needed to learn how to protect myself. I’d groaned and moaned about it, but secretly I absolutely loved it. It gave me the sense that I wasn’t helpless—a feeling that my dad Marco had made sure I felt every single day.

  “Sound’s good.” I gave him a quick shove so he stumbled and darted past him heading for the basement where the gym was located.

  “Brat!” He called after me. I laughed, taking the steps three at a time and hoping I wouldn’t miss one and go tumbling ungracefully down the stairs. I could hear Rico’s footsteps behind me, catching up quickly.

  “Rosalie!” My body shot to a stop instantly at hearing my uncle’s voice. Rico pulled up beside me. Uncle Anthony stood at the bottom of the staircase. “Rosalie, I need to speak with you. And need I remind the both of you that this house is not a playground.”

  “Yes, Father.” Rico dipped his head, giving my hand a quick squeeze as he moved by me.

  Uncle Anthony held out his hand, gesturing toward his office.

  I nodded and forced a small smile as I followed him down the hall. He took a seat on the large leather couch, a beautifully crafted piece that fitted in perfectly with the theme of his office. There were large book cases and a stunning desk that was larger than most six seater dining room tables. My uncle was quietly extravagant. He never showed it on the outside, but in his own home he loved the best of everything, and the bigger, the better.

  I tucked my legs underneath me as I sat in a large armchair across from him. He sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands together.

  “This isn’t good is it?” I asked, shifting nervously.

  He sighed. “Marco is requesting to see you.”

  My heart began to race. “Why?”

  My uncle snorted and I stared at him in shock. Uncle Anthony did not snort. One thing I had learned being here with the DePalmas, there’s an image that the family needs to project. It’s why my uncle holds himself so well and why my cousins are so different behind closed doors. “I would say he’s desperate. He’s been cut off from the family. He has no money and more importantly, no allies.”

  “I don’t want to talk to him or see him,” I said, my stomach churning. I may have learned to be strong and how to hold my head high, but even the mention of my father’s name made all that I had built up come crumbling down again.

  “I was going to recommend that you do not. You have grown into a strong, beautiful woman these last few months.” I smiled softly as if he had been reading the thoughts in my head. “I would hate to see that change.”

  I swallowed, twisting my tongue in an attempt to find the right words. “Is… is he ever going to get out?”

  His face hardened. “Are you sure you’re ready for that answer?”

  Sitting a little straighter I nodded. “Please… I need to know. I’ve spent so long wondering who my dad was. Knowing that he’s such a dark and angry human being makes me question who I am. I am his blood. I am part of him—”

  “You are my blood. I will not let you go on thinking that just because he’s your father that you’re poisoned with his problems.” His voice was stern and he stared me directly in the eyes. It was intimidating but at the same time, I dared not look away. “Our family is strong, we are resilient and we are humble. Never let yourself think anything else.”

  A shudder went through my body. His words were full of passion.

  “Marco will no longer taint this family with his presence.”

  I took a few moments to process that. Of course, he would never come straight out and say what was going to happen to him. My uncle was too smart to voice those words, not knowing who could be listening, but what he had done was calm me.

  Marco, had almost killed the one person who I could call a friend and had scarred me for life. I stared down at my hand which still bore the marks of his unorthodox punishment. The burn had discolored my palm and left it with a strange texture. A permanent reminder of the pain I endured, and my stupidity because I was so desperate to be a part of something more.

  I nodded, accepting his explanation. It felt strange to be so numb to something that any normal person would find shocking. I thought hearing those words would hurt more, that I would feel some kind of ache in my chest like I did when I lost my mom. Maybe I fit in here more than I thought? Or maybe I just didn’t care? Maybe I just wanted him to hurt?

  Those thoughts alone stirred my stomach.

  “I have to go back to Athens to pick up my diploma,” I stated, changing the direction of the conversation before I started to demand details.

  Uncle Anthony tilted his head to the side. “Are you concerned about this?”

  My hands squeezed the arms of the chair. “Not so much concerned, but… it’s them.” I fought against the tears as they beat against the dam. I wouldn’t let them through.

  My uncle took a deep breath but nodded his head. “Never feel like you’re beneath someone because you have made mistakes, amore.” I saw the strong cover fall from his face and for the first time since I had been there, I felt more from him than just a need to protect his family name, I felt an uncle who was sharing his heart with his niece.

  My body warmed.

  I wanted so badly to feel like I fit in here. I had tried, but I’d been raised so differently and I continued to feel like an outcast.

  I wanted that large family who were kind and caring and spent time together. I wanted big family Christmases and vacations. I wanted uncles who got too drunk and told hilarious stories during family gatherings and grandparents who bought you socks for every birthday. I wanted a family
who gossiped and gloated. I wanted all the weird stuff that each family does that for them is normal.

  This was not the DePalma family.

  The DePalma’s were strong but in a different kind of way. Their family ties were unbreakable but for different reasons. Loyalty to the family name was bred into them, everything was set in stone and there were certain expectations for every member. I bet Celia never complained to her friends about how overbearing her father was, and I bet Rico would have never dreamt of sneaking out at night to go to some high school party. Simply because they had too much to lose. The DePalma family name was not something that you dared risk.

  That was just too much pressure and I could already feel it suffocating me.

  “Would you like me to send someone with you?” Uncle Anthony’s question made me sit a little taller.

  I shook my head. “No. No, I need to do this by myself.”

  He frowned. “There’s no shame in asking for help, Rosalie. We are family.”

  Forcing a smile, I shook my head. “Thank you, Uncle. But I’ll never stand on my own two feet if I continue to hide behind you.”

  Smiling, he patted my leg and stood. “You are wise.”

  This was the good thing about my uncle, he may raise his children a certain way, but he definitely did not raise them to be cowards and back down. This was something I was learning fast, something I needed.

  I took a deep breath as he excused himself and exited his office. The thought of going back to Athens scared the shit out of me. I would like to think that I could dart in and out without being noticed, but I knew better than that. That area was owned by the Brothers by Blood MC and there was no way I was going to fly under their radar.

  Having one of Uncle Anthony’s men with me would be comforting, but I would be hiding my head in the sand.

  I needed to face my demons and deal with the consequences of my actions.

  Maybe this trip would help ease my mind?

  Maybe I would go back and find everything was all good and that nobody even cared about what had happened?

  Maybe I was just dreaming?

  “Blizz?”

  I turned my head to look at Ham. He stood in the doorway to Op’s office awkwardly.

  “Yeah?”

  “You got visitors, man.” I saw his eyes flick over my shoulder to where Optimus was sitting with Chelsea draped across his lap. That alone let me know that this wasn’t the kind of visitors I was going to like.

  I turned my body toward him. “Who is it?”

  His eyes narrowed slightly as he replied, “Handful of bikers with a woman who says she’s your mom.”

  I had to stop myself from flinching back at his words. My mom had left when I was just twelve, ditching my father and me for a member of another club. Hadn’t heard much from her since then. Phone calls when I was younger, but when I began to realize the depth of what she’d done, I stopped answering them.

  Ham folded his arms across his broad chest. The kid had filled out the last few months.

  Squeezing my hands into tight fists, I headed for the door, Ham jumping to the side just before I plowed through him.

  I heard Optimus groan. “Oh, shit.” But I continued to stomp down the hallway and out the patio doors. Gravel crunched under my heavy feet, footsteps behind me moving quickly to keep up.

  “Blizzard,” Op growled, catching up with me just before reaching the front gates. I could see the bikers sitting on the other side. “You need to check your temper.”

  I scoffed, pushing through the gap in the fence and coming face to face with the woman who had turned her back on me so many years ago.

  Her eyes widened and she pushed off the bike she was leaning against. She was older, but she looked just like I remembered her. She’d aged well. The thought just made me even more furious.

  “What do you want?” I snapped, coming to a halt.

  I watched as she cringed, but when a weathered hand wound around her waist and a big ass bastard wearing dark jeans and a leather cut stood up beside her, she seemed to regain her confidence.

  She held her shoulders back and looked me in the eye. “Matthew.” I shuddered. Hearing my given name, a name I hadn’t heard come from someone’s mouth in a long time. Four other men of varying ages and body types stepped off their bikes and moved in closer.

  “You’ve got some balls showing up here,” I sneered.

  I felt Optimus move to my left side, stopping just in front of me and taking the focus but my mother’s eyes never left mine.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  My nostrils flared. “Seems like that’s something you should’ve done twenty years ago.”

  She nodded, accepting the venom in my words without denial. “I know, but I’m doing it now.”

  “Ever heard the saying too little, too late?”

  Silence hung in the air for a while before Optimus cleared his throat. “I expect you have a good reason for riding up to our clubhouse unannounced.”

  The older man with his arm around my mother gave her a squeeze before he stepped forward. I knew who he was. The man that she’d left my father for, the one that she’d started a new family with in a new town with a new club.

  “Name’s Judge,” he offered, his voice low. “President, Satan’s Sanctuary MC.”

  “Optimus,” my president replied.

  Judge nodded. “I believe there’s some history here that obviously needs to be addressed but I’m gonna get straight to the point. We need some help.”

  “No,” I snapped. “No fucking way.”

  “Blizzard,” Op growled disapprovingly.

  I pointed at my mother. “You don’t get to come back here, asking for shit after what you did.”

  She didn’t hang her head in shame or cower away from me. The bitch was strong, I’d give her that. She held her head high and looked me directly in the eye. I saw sadness reflected there, but strength too.

  “She’s not asking,” Judge said, stepping in front of her protectively. He patted his chest. “I’m asking.”

  I frowned. It wasn’t often you got the president of another motorcycle club coming to you requesting help. We preferred to keep our issues or problems within the club, never show our weaknesses outside.

  Satan’s Sanctuary were a much smaller club, but they had a handful of other chapters scattered around. I was still surprised they’d come here.

  “That’s a big ask,” Optimus pointed out.

  I wanted to laugh, the situation was just that fucking ridiculous. I don’t hear from my mother for years, and now she shows up here unannounced and desperate.

  Judge dipped his head. “You know we wouldn’t be asking if this shit wasn’t important and it sort of concerns your boy here.” He gestured at me.

  I looked sideways at Op and he raised his brow in question. My whole body screamed at me to tell them to fuck off and to laugh as they rode away.

  I desperately wanted to see the pain in my mother’s eyes in hopes that it would make me feel like I was gaining something back from what she took from me.

  But I couldn’t.

  I shrugged.

  Op eyed me for a minute before he called over his shoulder, “Ham, open the gates and let them in.”

  I watched as my mom’s shoulders slumped in relief, and she hustled back to the bike she was leaning against previously. Op, my brothers and I, headed back toward the clubhouse as they began to pull inside the compound.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “No fucking idea. They must be desperate,” I said, kicking at the gravel and watching the five bikes pull up to the front of the clubhouse.

  “Are they desperate or do they know that you won’t be able to say no?” I narrowed my eyes. The disdain I had for the woman who’d given birth to me burned inside my gut. But if there was one thing you learned growing up inside the club was that you didn’t turn your back on family.

  She’d left me with an abusive alcoholic father who blamed me for
all his problems. I hated him for that, but had I cut him from my life? No.

  “You don’t know that we won’t say no.”

  Op chuckled. “You can hate her all you want, but I know you. You won’t be able to say no.”

  I grumbled under my breath.

  We gathered in the main room. My brothers took places leaning against the bar as the outsiders came in and took residence at a table with Op and me.

  “You have ten minutes to convince me and my stubborn headed VP as to why we need to help you.” Op threw it out on the table.

  Judge eyed his partner—his wife maybe. I wasn’t even sure what the deal was. I knew her and my father were divorced. The day he received those papers in the mail had been a bad one.

  He gripped the collar of my shirt and tossed me against the nearest wall. I didn’t cry out, not even as I smashed through the small side table and some of the broken wood splintered my skin. I gritted my teeth, grinding and wearing them down as I moved through the pain.

  He shoved a piece of paper in my face, not even giving me time to figure out the blur of words before he started yelling, “A divorce! Your bitch of a mother wants a fucking divorce!”

  I wanted to ask why, to try and figure out what was going on, but I knew that would only spike his anger further.

  “This is because of you! She never wanted kids,” he grumbled as he paced the floor in front of me. “She always said she was too young, wanted to have fun and live her life.”

  I shook my head, I didn’t understand what he was saying. She may never have been the best mother, I knew that by just watching how the other old ladies at the clubhouse doted on their children. But she still cuddled me when I was hurt and tried to make me laugh. She came to school meetings and made me do my homework.

  “If you hadn’t come along then we’d still be riding through the night, partying and smoking whenever we wanted, not sitting around changing dirty diapers and babysitting your ass.” He stopped and stared at me with darkness in his eyes that I rarely saw. He detested me, I could tell. I could feel it.

  Lunging forward, he wrapped his hulking hands around my throat and began to lift me up off the ground. I choked and sputtered, spit coating his tattooed arms.

 

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