Page 97 of Sterling Clay

“They’re from the accident. The airbag.”

Clay relaxes beside me.

Then, I explain who Darren is in relation to Dutton.

“He’s his father,” Clay gasps. “Where the fuck has he been for six years?”

I appreciate Clay’s upset on Dutton’s behalf and even Stone gives a tight smile of support, but then he clears his throat, warning his brother not to interrupt me.

“He’d disappeared. Gone rogue, is what the club calls it. He didn’t confirm or deny my suspicion that he might have been trying to find who killed my sister.”

“Butterfly,” Clay hums in sympathy, pulling me tighter to his side.

“He claims he loved her and rejected her to protect her. Her and Dutton. He worried that if he took Cecilia and Dutton as his family, they’d always be in danger. It hadn’t mattered.” I swallow hard, tears filling my eyes.

“Maybe we can talk about this later?” Clay looks at his brother who is watching me. I shake my head, knowing I need to get it out now.

“What did Darren want with you and Dutton?”

“He wanted a meeting with my dad. Wants to explain his absence. I’d told Darren the less I knew the better.” I didn’t want to know where he’d been or who he’d seen or what he’d done.

Stone nods in understanding.

“So he held you as hostages? Kidnapped you?” Clays voice rises. “You need to press charges.”

“No charges.” I stare at Stone instead of Clay. “This is club business and I’m letting Dad handle it.”

While my father isn’t always reasonable, or even just, for that matter, I gave him my word that I believed Darren had legitimate information the club would want to hear. And that made it club business, not mine.

“I’m never going to really be free from them,” I whisper. “They are my family. But again, the less I know and the further I am from them, the better we are. Dutton and me.”

Stone keeps his gaze on me. Clay is shaking his head.

“I return to them and live in fear. Or I live my life.” And maybe still live in fear. But I’m not looking backward. I’m not going backward. I want the life I’m hoping I still have with Clay.

“He simply let you go when your father agreed to meet him?” Stone asks.

The most shocking concept, and one I’m still concerned will come back to haunt me, is that Darren let us go. “He did.”

“I don’t like this,” Clay argues, stiffening once more beside me. “Will he be back? Will he use them again? Will he try to take Dutton from us?”

“He won’t be back.” While I wouldn’t normally believe a word Darren said, he gave Dad his word he’d never come near us again. If the club took him back, and it was a strongly worded if, along with a few other expletives, then Darren forfeited any claim to Dutton. The club would always be more important to Darren, and he didn’t know his son. He had no rights to him.

But I stumble after explaining all this on what Clay has said and turn my head to look at him.

“Us?” I question.

“Us?” Clay’s brows pinch. “You and me. Dutton is ours.” He says is so plainly, so easily, like it’s something we’ve already discussed and agreed upon. Ours. He isn’t asking; he is claiming. And I am not complaining. I don’t have the bandwidth to think or argue or make more decisions.

Clay kisses my forehead before turning toward Stone. “So now what? What else do you need?”

Stone straightens where he’s been seated on the ottoman. “I don’t think I want to know where their meeting is being held.” He sighs. “And I’m going to send out a call that you and Dutton have been found.”

Returned.

“What will you say about that?” I ask.

Stone purses his lips, thinking long and hard. “You had an accident. Didn’t have your phone. Thought you were headed toward town on foot and got turned around. Let’s say you spent the night in an abandoned barn and then figured out where you were in the morning. Closer to home than you thought.”