AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Foster care. I scrub my hands over my face. Why? Why foster care? He had a family. A family that would have loved him, cared for him, worshipped him like royalty.
“Fuck it,” Isaiah mumbles. “There’s another garage four blocks from here. The guy who owns it is named Brady. Tell him I sent you and I’d consider it a favor if he switched out your spark plugs. Good luck on finding your answers.”
Isaiah turns and heads back the way he had walked in. Rachel’s head swings back and forth between me and Violet and my newfound brother. Doesn’t take long for her to chase after him and reality hits me hard. I have a brother. A blood brother who grew up in foster care and he’s about to leave.
“My father knew about me, too,” I call out. “And my father’s family didn’t know I existed until after his death. He told my mom to keep me a secret. Only reason they know about me is because the Riot told them. Moment they found out, my grandfather Cyrus took me in. The moment he finds out about you, he’ll do the same. He loves like that. Blood may not mean shit to you, but it’s everything to Cyrus.”
Isaiah pauses in front of the door, then rolls his neck.
“Our MC is a legit club. The Riot has problems with us because we don’t grovel. My family is full of good people and you’d like them. You may not know it yet and my family may not know it yet, but you’re wanted. You’ve always been wanted. We just didn’t know to want you.”
He pulls on his earlobe, just like Eli does, but keeps his back to me. “Why did James keep you a secret?”
“I don’t know.” Because he was part of the Riot? Because James wanted something different from the club? Because Cyrus couldn’t stand that James chose something else? “Why did he keep you a secret?”
“Isaiah,” Rachel says softly, in a plea, in a reprimand.
Isaiah shakes his head. “Mom could be full of shit.”
“Maybe she is, but you should let him decide that. What if she’s telling the truth?”
Violet comes up beside me and places a supportive hand on my wrist. Her touch is a reassurance I didn’t know I needed.
Isaiah glances over his shoulder at me. “James McKinley didn’t belong to the Riot and he didn’t belong to your MC. His life took a different path.”
Violet’s hand slips down and she holds on to my fingers as his words crush me. James chose differently and Cyrus threw him away.
“Take your car to Brady’s,” Isaiah says. “You shouldn’t be on the road long without new spark plugs.” He pauses like he’s internally fighting. “Give me a few days. Let me reach out to my mom. If you want the full story, she’s the one to tell it, not me.”
He’s offering me answers, and I’m filled with sorrowful gratitude. Before I can say anything, Isaiah leaves, the door swinging shut behind him. Rachel watches where he disappeared and after a few beats she slowly turns her head in our direction. Gone is the beauty queen and in her place are two narrow slits of eyes.
“Isaiah hasn’t just walked through hell, he’s been chained to it most of his life. You offered him the chance at family, and if you were lying to him to get answers, I swear to God I will make you regret it.”
“He’s not lying,” Violet says. “Isaiah has a grandfather and an uncle and an entire army of men who will claim him in a heartbeat.”
Rachel yanks her cell out of her back pocket and offers it to Violet. “Put in your number and I’ll call you when he’s ready for you to meet his mother.”
She watches me with a perfectly pissed cocked eyebrow. I understand her wrath. Rachel’s protecting someone she loves. She’s protecting my brother.
“I’m not scared of you,” she says to me.
“You shouldn’t be. I’m not a threat to either one of you.”
Violet offers her back her cell and Rachel sizes her up. “And I’m not scared of you either.”
With a toss of her braid, Rachel turns her back to us and follows after Isaiah.
Violet and I stand next to her father’s car and try to digest the newest curveball life has thrown. She squeezes my hand, looks over at me, and I’m confused by the ghost of a smile on her face. “Don’t know about you, but I like them. They are definitely McKinley material.”
Violet
SITTING AT A picnic table outside the crowded clubhouse, I’m fidgeting every few seconds as if I’m being attacked by cockroaches. There’s a huge crowd and I can’t help but wonder if the Riot’s spying on me.
To be honest, we’re all a mess at the picnic table. Chevy’s heartbroken and flips a coin rapidly around his knuckles, watching it like it’s a crystal ball with answers. After what I’d thought would have been a glorious day of being reunited with Breanna, Razor’s gone silent and internal, and Oz is observing all of us as if he’s trying to figure out the messed-up puzzle that has lost 75 percent of its pieces.
It’s official—eighteen blows. Happy birthday to me.
Oz’s mom, Rebecca, my mom and the rest of the Terror Gypsies made my favorite foods: fried chicken, potato salad, baked beans and all the chocolate cake I could
