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She didn’t hang her head in shame or cower away from me. The bitch was strong, I’d give her that. She held her head high and looked me directly in the eye. I saw sadness reflected there, but strength too.
“She’s not asking,” Judge said, stepping in front of her protectively. He patted his chest. “I’m asking.”
I frowned. It wasn’t often you got the president of another motorcycle club coming to you requesting help. We preferred to keep our issues or problems within the club, never show our weaknesses outside.
Satan’s Sanctuary were a much smaller club, but they had a handful of other chapters scattered around. I was still surprised they’d come here.
“That’s a big ask,” Optimus pointed out.
I wanted to laugh, the situation was just that fucking ridiculous. I don’t hear from my mother for years, and now she shows up here unannounced and desperate.
Judge dipped his head. “You know we wouldn’t be asking if this shit wasn’t important and it sort of concerns your boy here.” He gestured at me.
I looked sideways at Op and he raised his brow in question. My whole body screamed at me to tell them to fuck off and to laugh as they rode away.
I desperately wanted to see the pain in my mother’s eyes in hopes that it would make me feel like I was gaining something back from what she took from me.
But I couldn’t.
I shrugged.
Op eyed me for a minute before he called over his shoulder, “Ham, open the gates and let them in.”
I watched as my mom’s shoulders slumped in relief, and she hustled back to the bike she was leaning against previously. Op, my brothers and I, headed back toward the clubhouse as they began to pull inside the compound.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“No fucking idea. They must be desperate,” I said, kicking at the gravel and watching the five bikes pull up to the front of the clubhouse.
“Are they desperate or do they know that you won’t be able to say no?” I narrowed my eyes. The disdain I had for the woman who’d given birth to me burned inside my gut. But if there was one thing you learned growing up inside the club was that you didn’t turn your back on family.
She’d left me with an abusive alcoholic father who blamed me for all his problems. I hated him for that, but had I cut him from my life?No.
“You don’t know that we won’t say no.”
Op chuckled. “You can hate her all you want, but I know you. You won’t be able to say no.”
I grumbled under my breath.
We gathered in the main room. My brothers took places leaning against the bar as the outsiders came in and took residence at a table with Op and me.
“You have ten minutes to convince me and my stubborn headed VP as to why we need to help you.” Op threw it out on the table.
Judge eyed his partner—his wife maybe. I wasn’t even sure what the deal was. I knew her and my father were divorced. The day he received those papers in the mail had been a bad one.
He gripped the collar of my shirt and tossed me against the nearest wall. I didn’t cry out, not even as I smashed through the small side table and some of the broken wood splintered my skin. I gritted my teeth, grinding and wearing them down as I moved through the pain.
He shoved a piece of paper in my face, not even giving me time to figure out the blur of words before he started yelling, “A divorce! Your bitch of a mother wants a fucking divorce!”
I wanted to ask why, to try and figure out what was going on, but I knew that would only spike his anger further.
“This is because of you! She never wanted kids,” he grumbled as he paced the floor in front of me. “She always said she was too young, wanted to have fun and live her life.”
I shook my head, I didn’t understand what he was saying. She may never have been the best mother, I knew that by just watching how the other old ladies at the clubhouse doted on their children. But she still cuddled me when I was hurt and tried to make me laugh. She came to school meetings and made me do my homework.
“If you hadn’t come along then we’d still be riding through the night, partying and smoking whenever we wanted, not sitting around changing dirty diapers and babysitting your ass.” He stopped and stared at me with darkness in his eyes that I rarely saw. He detested me, I could tell. I could feel it.
Lunging forward, he wrapped his hulking hands around my throat and began to lift me up off the ground. I choked and sputtered, spit coating his tattooed arms.
