Page 123 of Hostile Saint

“Think about it. I was never taken back to the facility, but Lace was. A good mother would have done anything to stop it. Her mother must’ve worked a trade—something to keep her daughter out of the facility. She claimed to be working all the time. But, now, I seriously doubt it.”

He sat straight up. “Jesus. H. Christ. No, I believe she was working, alright, but that ‘trade’ scenario answers some questions. The female signature on your marriage license.” He swung his legs over the side of the mattress to face me. “She must’ve learned of your uncle.”

Dejected, I shook my head in dismay. “I still don’t understand why he didn’t come to get me if he knew about me.”

Lynx jumped to his feet. “That’s it! He didn’t know about you!” He rushed to his jeans and pulled out my dad’s journal. Flipping through the pages, he mumbled, “No mention of the will or brother.” He looked up from the book. “Maybe he didn’t even realize he had one.”

He started pacing as I disagreed. “He had to. The will was done when I was young, before my dad died.”

Lynx seemed excited to be figuring out some of our unanswered questions. “Think about it! That will only has a certain date because someone put it there to make it legal—binding. If Lacey’s mom was the one who forged her daughter’s signature on the marriage license, what’s to say, after finding your dad’s brother, she didn’t forge your dad’s, too?”

Blink. Blink. “You either have a wild imagination, or you’re brilliant.”

Pleased with himself, he lightly rolled his eyes. “My vote is toward the brilliant spectrum.”

“Wait.” I shook my head again. “My name. Tate. Same as my uncle’s.”

Deflated, Lynx sat back down. “Well, shit…” He held up a finger. “Maybe your dad remembered the name like you remembered Lucey’s. A faded memory that he didn’t understand.”

Petting Charlie’s head, I admitted, “This all would explain a lot.”

He sighed. “It would also explain why they killed Lacey’s mom—”

Grrrrrrrr…

Lynx and I looked to the door, where Charlie was growling, then Lynx whispered, “Light.”

I quickly turned off the lamp as Lynx, grabbing his gun, rolled over the bed. In no time, he was to his feet, rushing to hide next to the window. Peeking out the curtain, he suddenly yelled, “No!” but it was too late. The door came crashing in.

Charlie was on his paws, madly barking as Vice came bursting inside the room.

Vice froze when he saw me sitting on the bed, staring at him.

Lynx slapped a palm to his forehead. “You, goon!”

Eyeing the door now on the floor, I chuckled. “It didn’t dawn on you to knock, Vice?”

The big guy slightly pouted. “Prez raised his voice.”

Charlie huffed as he laid down, totally unimpressed with Vice’s tactics.

The big man grumbled, “Dick. Head.”

Searching for my mother, my dad followed clues all the way to Kansas. Again, Lynx could only tell me so much, due to club rules, but there was no denying my dad’s commitment and feeling of guilt.

Still sitting on my bed next to Charlie, I shared, “I think my dad loved my mom like I love Lace.”

Across from me, Lynx nodded, “Oh yeah, he loved hard, just like you and I do.”

Staring at the door, now propped against the frame it once hung from, I couldn’t help but wonder… “If there is only one entrance into this room, and Vice is watching it, why did he think someone was in here?”

Lynx tried to blow it off. “He’s running on too little sleep.” But I sensed a lie.

My head tilted. “What are you not telling me?”

“Huh?” Again, he tried to evade my questioning. “Sounds like you’re paranoid, too.”

I’d been with this man every second of every day for over six weeks. I was starting to read him, anticipating his words as if I had written them myself.