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“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.
