Guilt fills me and I pull my hand back. After Gabby told me about my mom and Mr. Sanders—er, John, I brushed it under the rug like everything else. When I called my mom, and she’d tell me she had plans or that she went out the night before, I didn’t ask questions. I changed the subject because I didn’t hear it. I didn’t want to accept that it was time to let go, time to move on.
“He asked me to marry him,” she reveals, shocking me.
My eyes snap back to hers and I force myself to swallow.
“I told him no,” she continues.
“Why?” I rasp.
“Because it doesn’t feel right being happy when my daughter is so miserable.”
“Mom, I’m not miserable.”
“Oh, sweetheart, stop! Please, just stop pretending!” she exclaims, lifting her hands to her head. “You have been broken since your father died.”
“No,” I whisper. “I’ve been broken since my father went to jail. Mom, I didn’t shed a tear at dad’s funeral. Do you know that? I didn’t cry when he died and that’s because he was already dead to me. He died with Bethany!”
Her hands fall from her head and she stares at me in shock. I want to feel something…guilt…shame…something other than relief.
“You cried,” she whispers. “I remember you crying.”
I shake my head.
“Not at the funeral and whenever I did cry, I cried because I was angry. I wanted my father back. I wanted him to take me to those father-daughter dances, and I wanted to mow the lawn with him one more time,” I sob. “I wanted to walk me down the aisle and hold my children, but he didn’t want any of that. He just wanted Bethany back.”
“Charlotte…”
“It’s okay, mom,” I say, brushing my tears away from my cheeks. It’s a wasted effort because as soon as I wipe them away, they’re replaced with more. “I get it, she was his daughter, his baby, and she was sick.”
“He blamed himself for her illness, Charlotte. The condition your sister had was hereditary. Your father’s mother had it and your never got tested to see if he was a carrier. When we found out she needed the heart transplant, he lost it.”
No one ever told me there was some hereditary disorder that took my sister’s life. All this time, I thought it was congenital heart defect.
“Hereditary? How did I not know that?”
“You were young, and so much was going on. We had you tested, and everything came back clear. You don’t have the gene and before you ask, it doesn’t skip a generation or anything like that. Your children, when and if you decide to have them, will be perfectly fine. They’ll be healthy just like you.”
She pushes her chair back and stands. Trying to process everything she’s told me, I watch as she crosses the kitchen and pulls open a cabinet, grabbing a large envelope. She returns to the table and gently places it in front of me.
“In there you’ll find all your tests and detailed report of their condition.”
“Their condition,” I repeat, taking the envelope from her. “Does that mean he was sick too?”
“We didn’t know, Charlotte,” she cries. “He started having symptoms after he was sentenced and there was no care for him where he was. That’s why I didn’t bring you to see him so often, he was deteriorating quickly and we both agreed you had been through too much, that you didn’t deserve any more heartache.”
I drop the envelope onto the table and lower my head into my hands. I came here for clarity and that’s what I got only it was the kind I was expecting.
“Charlotte, I know it’s a lot to take in, but I had to tell you. I can’t watch you hurt anymore. I know why this case with Bishop and Connor was so important to you. You wanted to reunite that little boy with his dad. You wanted to take away his pain because no one ever took away yours. It was my job to do that, and I didn’t and for that I’m sorry. I just want you to be happy. All I want is for you to be happy, Charlotte.”
I peel my hands away from my face and lift my head.
“You love Connor,” she whispers.
“Of course, I do,” I reply. What’s not to love?
“You love his father too, sweetheart.”
“It’s complicated, mom.”
So very complicated.
“Life is too short to dwell on complications, Charlotte. You have to squeeze the lemon.”
“What if I choke on the pit?”
She shakes her head.
“You won’t.”
-Twenty-four-
Bishop
“Hey, Bishop, there’s a ball stuck in lane six,” my boss calls, diverting my attention away from unpacking a box of new pins. I set the box down and make my way down the lane. Grabbing the ball out of the gutter, I reset the frame and hand the ball back to the little boy bowling.
“Thank you, Mister,” he says as he takes it from my hand.
He’s about Connor’s age and my mind instantly travels back to my son. It’s something I’ve been doing a lot since our visit to the zoo. Every single second we spent together that day has played on an endless loop in my head and all I want to do is go to Charlotte’s mother’s house and take them both home with me.
I want to drink hot chocolate, watch the penguins on YouTube and after I tuck my son into bed, I want to worship Charlotte. I want to love on her and it’s not just some physical need anymore. Don’t get me wrong, if I don’t get laid soon, I’m likely to combust. But it’s the stuff that comes after the orgasms, I crave most. It’s lying in bed skin to skin and talking about our day, listening to her dreams and hoping I have enough in me to make some of them come true.
“Bishop.”
The sound of my name being called causes me to tear my eyes away from the little boy. I turn around and immediately spot Blackie and Wolf. Surprised by their visit, I curiously make my way towards them. I haven’t spoken to anyone since Parrish visited my apartment at Kate’s and ripped me a new asshole, but I don’t expect this visit to have anything to do with that. Parrish was conducting business behind Wolf’s back and unless he felt the need to clear his conscious, I don’t think either of these two men know he killed Pete.
“Hey,” I say, reaching them. Blackie extends his hand, placing it on my shoulder.
“How’s it going, man? How’s Connor?”
Any time he sees me he asks, and it’s not because he’s looking for a thank you. After we were both finally free, we reconnected at Kate’s and I gave him my thanks, choked on the words and cried saying them. I met his wife and daughter that day too and seeing him surrounded by all that love was a beautiful thing. He was no longer the troubled man I shared a cell with. There was no question of whether he could be a good father or not. He held that baby girl as though he was holding the world in his hands, and I guess he was.
That’s what our children are to us.
They’re our whole world.
Some of us realize that before they even take their first breath and some of us have a harder time getting there, but when we do…there’s no going back.
“He’s good, man,” I say hoarsely and though I know there are no thanks required, I still feel the need to say it. “Took him to the zoo the other day. He fed the penguins and after visiting every exhibit twice, we had a couple of dirty water dogs from a street truck. It was the best day and I wouldn’t have had that if it wasn’t for you—”
“Stop, Bishop, it’s all good. You don’t gotta thank me every time you see me. I get it, brother.”
I don’t get to see Blackie as much as I see the rest of the club. Schwartz let a lot of things fly under the table, but he was adamant when he warned me and Blackie to steer clear of one another. Everyone knew he paid for my legal bills and Schwartz was worried the parole board would be watching Blackie specifically, waiting to catch us together. I guess the guy didn’t want to defend us both again anytime soon. I can’t say that I blame him.
Clearing my throat, I nod.
“What about Jacqueline?” I ask and as soon I mention his
little girl, he’s reaching into his leather vest to pull out his phone and show me pictures of her.
“She’s not a fan of peas,” he says, chuckling as he swipes his thumb to reveal a photo of his daughter covered in green gunk.
“What kid is?” Wolf says, reminding us both he’s standing there too. “When she’s got some teeth, we’ll give her a dish of peas and macaroni and bring her to the other side.”
I laugh at that. It always boils down to food with this guy.
“She’s beautiful, Black,” I say, handing him back his phone. Looking between the two men, I shove my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. “So, what brings you two by?”
Pocketing his phone, Blackie’s gaze slices to me.
“Schwartz paid me a visit the other day. We need to talk.”
“Let’s go in the office,” Wolf suggests. “Too many people around.”
I nod but I don’t have to lead the way. Wolf’s old lady used to work here, and he’s more familiar with the joint than I am. Following him, we make our way into the back office. It’s tiny and there ain’t nothing but a desk and two chairs. I let them sit and I stand, leaning against the wall.
“So, Schwartz paid you a visit…”
“He told me about the gun,” Blackie reveals. “That you and my father-in-law paid Pete a visit.”
“Pete’s missing, Bishop,” Wolf adds. “And before the heat comes down on anyone—”
“He isn’t missing,” I interject, cutting him off. “He’s dead.”
“Right,” Wolf mutters with a nod. Silence fills the room and I watch as he bites the inside of his cheek. “I already know the answer, but I’m going to ask you anyway, who did it?”
I’m a lot of things, but I ain’t no rat. Parrish has played me in a lot of ways, but he also orchestrated a mission to save Connor and I can’t forget that.
“You’re not giving him up,” Wolf continues. “I know he did it, I also know everything else he’s done.”
“Schwartz didn’t show up on my doorstep a lawyer, he showed up concerned for a friend. He says Charlotte is in over her head with you and Connor. She threw you out when she found the gun.”
“Yeah,” I admit. “She’s worried I’m going to go back to jail.”
“Aren’t you?” Wolf asks.
I can play it off like I’m not. After all, there’s still a piece of that hardass I used to be buried inside of me.
“Bishop, we’re all worried,” Blackie says. “We all look over our shoulders, waiting for the moment when we’re ripped away from the people we love. It’s happened to me too many times, that’s why I don’t care about a rank no more. I used to be the vice-president of this club and if it wasn’t the man sitting next to me, I would’ve been the president when Jack stepped down. It was never a job I wanted, but Parrish cornered me into thinking I did. I love my club. I’d die for my club, but I don’t want to. I want to spend the rest of my life loving my wife and enjoying my daughter. Just like you want to spend the rest of yours loving Charlotte and enjoying Connor.”
“Remember when I came to see you with Jack?” Wolf questions. “You looked at me like I was a cruel son of a bitch with no heart and I understood why. There was Parrish, telling you everything you wanted to hear and then there was me, shutting him down.”
He pauses, swiping his fingers over his beard.
“Jack isn’t a well man. He’s undergoing treatment and with any luck, one of these trial drugs will work, but that’s why he doesn’t have the gavel anymore. I’ve been with him since the beginning. Him, me and Pipe, we’re the originals. The last of the first men standing. I was with him when he had his first breakdown. I was there when he buried his son and finally admitted he was sick. I sat next to him when the doctor diagnosed him and handed him a prescription of Lithium and every day for six months, I went to his house and made sure he swallowed those pills. It took a long time for him to come to terms with his illness and it’s taking him even longer to accept he isn’t the man in charge anymore.”
I’m not sure why he’s telling me any of this, Jack’s illness isn’t my business. Still, he has me hanging on every word, waiting for the next. There’s a history between him and Parrish and it’s more than meets the eye. This guy, he didn’t want the gavel either, but he took it anyway.
“I agreed to let you prospect,” he continues. “It wasn’t a decision I came to easily either. Parrish saw you as a hothead, a man who could be a menace on demand and I saw you as a struggling father. There was no room for the man Parrish saw in my regime, but there was a seat waiting for the man I saw. The Satan’s Knights aren’t what they used to be. None of us want to live the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders, but we’re brothers who took an oath. I let Parrish run amuck with you, gave him the freedom to do whatever the fuck he wanted because if he was distracted, he was out of my way.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following,” I say, looking from him to Blackie. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Parrish made a deal with the district attorney and gave up one of the most powerful cartels in this world. People on the street aren’t happy. They want revenge. I’ve put a deal in place that will ultimately bring peace between us and our enemies. In a couple of months, the Satan’s Knights will be a motorcycle club that thrives on their legit business and rides for causes and not the sake of mayhem. We’ll be a club that proudly welcomes their sons with open arms, not fear. Your girl won’t have to worry about you coming home at night to her. She won’t ever visit you in jail as long as you’re with us.”
“Jack doesn’t know about the changes,” Blackie admits.
“Once everything is settled, we’ll ease him into it. It’ll take him some time to get used to it, but he’ll come around. He’s the whole reason we exist. He took us all in,” Wolf says as he looks down at his hands. “He made us all his. We knew we were taken care of, that we all had a place in this world because of him and that is the only thing that won’t ever change. We’re a family here and we’ll forge through, just as we always do.”
“I don’t know what to say…” I admit, hanging my head. “I feel like I’m going against him.”
“I’m his son-in-law,” Blackie says. “The man he trusts most in this world. How do you think I feel? But it’s the only way. If we want to live to see our kids grow up, we need to go legit. Deep down, Jack knows that. He’s known that for a long time and there was a time when he thought he could be the man who made that happen for all of us. But he lives and breathes chaos. It follows him and touches everything he touches.”
“If you want to walk away from the club, we’ll accept that. No ill feelings,” Wolf adds. “But if you want to be part of something bigger than the streets, you’ll hang in there. You’ll finish out your parole and put that kutte back on and this time, you won’t have to hide it.”
It’s a sweet picture.
Almost as sweet as the one I see when I look at Charlotte and Connor.
Wolf slaps his hands against his thighs and rises from the chair. Stepping towards me, he cups my shoulder and those light eyes, so opposite of Parrish’s, meet mine.
“Run it by your girl,” he says. “See if it’s a good fit because she and the boy should always come first. That’s what this is all about, kid. It’s about making life better for them. We don’t wake to serve the reaper. We wake to serve the people we love.”
I nod and go to thank him, but my phone rings and interrupts the moment.
-Twenty-five-
Charlotte
“Collect two-hundred and pass go!” Connor tells my mom. “Do you want me to move the dumb bell?”
Throwing her head back, my mom laughs as she drapes her arm around Connor and gives him a squeeze.
“It’s a thimble, honey,” she corrects. “Go ahead, move it.”
“John, you’re the banker, you have to give Camila two hundred dollars.”
“That’s right,” he says, smiling at my mom and Connor.
After my mom and I spoke, we had a good cry, and I told her I was sorry for not acknowledging her happiness. I asked to meet Mr. Sanders or rather John, and she invited him over for dinner. Watching them together is exactly what I needed to restore my faith in new beginnings. I don’t remember the last time I saw my mom smile so many times in a single night and I sure as hell don’t remember the last time, I heard a giggle. Yeah, that’s right, my fifty-two-year-old mother giggled has been giggling like a schoolgirl all night, and it’s one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard. Now, here we are, the four of us playing Monopoly, waiting for her lasagna to finish cooking.
I think the thing I like most about John is the way he looks at my mom. The second thing would be the way he talks about his grandchildren. He has two sons from a previous marriage, Bryan and Michael and they both have three daughters and they’re the light of his life. All in all, John is a great guy. I thought it would be hard to admit that but seeing my mom happy made it easy.
I remember after volunteering to join Six-Pack on the intervention I breathed a sigh of relief and in my heart of hearts I believed my father was smiling down on me, that he was proud of me for using my voice. Maybe he was, I’m just not so sure about that anymore, but tonight, there isn’t a doubt in mind my dad is smiling down on us and so is Bethany.
The doorbell rings and I look at my mom.
“Are you expecting someone?”
Keeping her eyes on the board game, she hands Connor the dice and shakes her head.
“No, honey. Why don’t you go see who it is though?”
“I’ll go,” John offers.
“You’re just looking for an excuse to absolve yourself from your duties as the banker,” I tease, rising off the couch.
“Thank God this isn’t my real job,” he replies with a wink. I laugh and head for the door. Swinging it open with a smile on my face that only widens when I see who it is.
Breaking The Chains (Satan's Knights Prospect Trilogy) Page 18