When Opposites Collide Boxset

by Kathy Coopmans

  “I’m hurting. I’m not sure anyone can even begin to understand the pain unless they’ve been lied to their entire life. I’m not even addressing the life I was pushed into because the choice was made to lie. It doesn’t matter the wrongs and crimes committed in that life weren’t mine. It’s what I was made to believe was me. My genetics, blood, heart, and soul, all of it, dedicated to the Winslow last name, but it was all a lie.”

  I pause a beat to keep the tears back. This needs to be spoken, and I refuse to let emotions take over.

  “I love you, Mom. I’ll never stop loving you. You're my mother, and there were times in my life when I needed you so bad I didn’t know how I would make it through the day. But then I would hear your voice; you would tell me to get up, to put one foot in front of the other, and together we could tackle whatever obstacle had brought me down. I look at you right now and still can’t believe that after everything you have been through, you survived. I know there’re more things those men said and did to you than you are willing to share. I survived my hell because of you. I need you in my life forever.” I pause to take a deep breath through my nose. They are both sitting there quietly, attentive, and for the first time in my life, I have both of my parents listening to me. No judgment is striking back at me. No harsh words are telling me to pull my shit together. That weakness isn’t something a Winslow shows in public. They are simply taking everything I say to heart. “Trent, I’d like to get to know you as well. With all of that being said, I still need time to digest everything. My skin crawls, and the anxiety threatens to wreck me daily with the thought of knowing I wasn’t his real daughter. Parts of me are grateful those invisible bonds have been broken, while others remain sick and twisted knowing all the years that were stolen from me, from you, from us. It leaves me with a choice to make. Do I roll back into the cutthroat attorney, move back to L.A., and pretend this was all a dream, or do I embrace my new life? If you have to ask which I’m choosing, then neither of you deserve a place in my life.”

  What I wanted to say didn’t come out the way I’d rehearsed over and over in my head. The important thing is that it’s out there. I don’t want my mom to think I hate her for the choice she made. Who’s to say I wouldn’t have done the same thing? I know better than anyone how Clarence Winslow makes good on his threats.

  I take a deep breath; the urge to get back to Katch, to have him hold me and tell me in his crazy way that he’s proud of me for finally talking to her is all I want right now.

  My mother is up on her feet before I can excuse myself. Her arms wrap around my neck, and she sobs. Her apple-scent is comforting. I bring my arms around her, bury my face in her neck, and cry right along with her. It’s all going to be okay. I’ll get past this and so will she.

  She doesn’t attempt to apologize or let the word ‘sorry’ slip from her lips over and over again. My mother simply holds me. Her strength is freeing me from the bonds of lies and deceit. Our futures are finally brimming on the horizon, and it will be our choice what we do with it.

  The anxiety slowly drains from me as well with the fucked-up head games that have held me hostage for years. It feels good. Damn good. My mother finally steps back, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “Caitlin, I want to tell you something I should have told you years ago. This is your dad, Trent Welsh.” She giggles through the tears still streaming down her face.

  I can’t help but smile at this brave soul in front of me. She’s the happiest and healthiest I’ve seen her yet.

  There are well-defined steps in the grieving and loss process. Each carved out with specific steps where a gamut of emotions is experienced. There is not one word in the English language to name the shit I’ve gone through since hitchhiking on that lonely highway and the number of steps uncountable. I do know I must be in the hysterical stage at this point.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Trent,” I finally speak up.

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” he says with a small upward curve on his lips.

  An awkward silence surrounds us, all of us with worn-down faces, hearts raw and right there on the edge of our sleeve. I need to break the air. To have them smiling when I get up to leave.

  “Mom, I want to thank you for letting him stick his dick in you without a condom.” The thought of them having sex is gone before I allow myself to think about it. At least my mom is smiling.

  We all erupt in laughter, the awkward tension dissipating immediately. It’s a baby step in the direction of forming a relationship with my parents. The first laugh shared between a family. The stepping stone to building a lifetime of memories.

  “Caitlin.” Trent steps up to me. “I think this is where we hug.”

  A smartass. I already like the guy. Trent wraps his arms around me, holding me in a soul-crushing embrace. Clarence never hugged me or showed any sort of paternal caring and emotion toward me. This simple hug means more to me than I can say. It wipes away all the self-doubt of being a little girl who should be able to look up to her dad and feel wanted, protected, and loved. He doesn’t let go for the longest time. We become a family in a matter of seconds.

  “Thank you for saving my life,” I whisper into his ear.

  “I tried to get to you for years. Vowed never to give up, Caitlin. My biggest regret will always be not getting to you sooner.”

  I pull back gently, but not enough to break our connection. “You saved more than my life. You saved the man I love, you saved my mother, and I hope in some way you saved yourself.”

  “We have a very wise daughter, Louisa.” He briefly looks her way. “I’ll always be here for you, Caitlin. Always. And the same goes for your mother. A man doesn’t devote half of his life getting the loves of his life back to let them go.”

  “Thank you—” I pause, not knowing what to call him.

  He senses my stress, leans in, and kisses my forehead. “Take your time. You can call me Trent.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just the words ‘dad’ and ‘father’ have had such a negative impact in my life. I don’t want to taint this with that.”

  “I get it. Call me Trent, asshole, whatever you need to; as long as I’m in your life, it doesn't matter.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper.

  “Neither are we, sweet girl.” My mom lifts her hand and cups the side of my face.

  “Let’s get you back to that man of yours,” she says, reaches down, and takes hold of my hand while Trent picks up my tray and places it on top of a bin.

  The three of us make our way back to Katch’s room with unspoken promises of a brighter today and a better tomorrow.

  When the elevator opens to allow a few people on, on the floor where the ER is located, I catch a glimpse of Zeke barking orders over a bed with a battered woman on it. The doors close all too quickly, taking away the horrific scene.

  Trent clutches my hand. My heart sinks for the family and loved ones of the woman lying there. I was in that same position not too long ago. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to breathe again or if I even wanted to. I send up a silent prayer for her loved ones, because no one deserves that amount of suffering.

  I’m unsure if the guys are all still in the room, so I lightly knock. The door swings open with Curtis standing there. He shuts the door and draws me and then my mother in for a hug. He shakes Trent’s hand, which shocks me. It’s a huge sign of respect between the two men. Not an easy feat when it comes to Curtis.

  “I believe this belongs to you, Aunt Louisa.” We all look down to where Curtis is holding on to the mysterious envelope. I had all but forgotten about this. Until now. I glance over to my mom, who takes it with shaky fingers and clutches it to her chest.

  “Thank you, Curtis.” She smiles.

  “You alright, cuz?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” I say truthfully.

  “That’s my girl. You may want to get in there. He’s grumpy as fuck.” He kisses my cheek, then steps back inside and leaves the door ajar.r />
  “This is for you.” My mom stops me right before I push open the door. I’m not sure if I want to read the contents anymore.

  “It’s a letter from me, Caitlin. The first letter I wrote to my daughter. Take it. It’s yours.” I close my eyes at the sound of Trent’s voice. With shaky, sweaty palms, I grab hold of the well-worn envelope, the writing smudged, yet as clear to me as the day is bright.

  My name.

  26

  Katch

  “It’s about time all you fuckers showed up together. Let’s get this done.” I glare at Brick and Snake jokingly.

  While Curtis has been by once to check up on me since I regained consciousness, these two haven’t been by at all. They’ve been triple-checking their tracks. Making sure there isn’t a speck of a trace that will connect us to the disappearance of Detective Vince Lawson.

  Apparently, during the two weeks I was out, there was a statewide search for the piece of shit. His ugly mug spread across the news channels like wildfire. It’s clear the cunt helping Vince that night was a nobody, since not a thing has been mentioned. Typical of how scum like Vince works.

  Of course, at the time I didn’t have a clue what was going on in the outside world as I lay here in an induced coma, fighting for my life. When I did come around, the only thing that mattered was Caitlin. I knew these guys would handle everything. It’s the fear I saw in my girl's eyes. I need to give her something. Something to ease her mind that this isn’t going to fall back on us. Least of all her.

  Caitlin and I have talked about a lot of things these past few days. Her mom, her dad, and even her job. I know where she stands with all of it, and right now, I hope her mom and Trent are in this hospital talking things out with her. She needs to clear the air with them both. Find out the last bit of truth and move on with getting her life back onto solid ground.

  “The hand is healing much better, thanks for asking, fuckface.” Brick lifts his bandaged hand in the air, wiggles his fingers, and flips me off.

  “Shit, Brick. I never want to hear about a brother getting shot, but, motherfucker, at least you're sleeping in your own bed, walking around your own house, and not staying in some private ward. This shit sucks.” There’s more truth behind that statement than the amount of piss I’ve taken since being wheeled in here.

  Brick’s face falls. “Man, I’m fucking sorry. Never saw it coming. The two of them beat the shit out of me, stole my gun, and shot me with it. Then the next thing I knew, I was crashing to the floor.”

  “We were all ambushed. No need for that shit,” I reply.

  I owe my life to Zeke for everything he’s done for me. It will not go unnoticed. He risked his entire career to save my ass. To hide me out in this private area of the hospital with a fake name. It’s costing a mint to stay here. Which is the least of my worries. It’s the price you pay for not having insurance, because you simply don’t exist in this world to have it. Still not changing my ways.

  “Whatever. Ain’t like I have some woman taking care of me twenty-four seven. How’s she holding up, anyway?”

  I try and swallow that guilt-filled lump in my throat that’s been sitting there ever since I woke up. The one clawing at my flesh whenever I think about Vince laying a hand on her.

  “She’s good. It’s me who needs answers. Now, let’s get down to business.” I turn my attention to Snake. He’s the main man at the moment. The center of it all. I won’t admit this to anyone but the three men sitting here with me, but there is not a chance in hell I’d want to be on the receiving end of Snake and his deathly dagger knife.

  I prefer the one shot to the head, clean up my mess, and bury the son of a bitch. Not Snake; he’s sick and twisted when he gets in a rage. I doubt there’s anyone who can talk him down once his mind becomes possessed.

  “You want the gory details or just the facts?” He crosses his arms over his chest. His smirk on his face is telling me I may not want to know.

  “The facts will do. My stomach ain’t in the best shape to take on what I know you're dying to tell me.”

  “Damn, that’s a shame, ‘cause this one squealed like a pig right after I cut one of his balls off.”

  I clench my stomach. A surge of pain ricochets from my dick to the healing hole in my gut.

  “He admit everything?” I ask.

  “That and more,” he replies dryly.

  “You mind sharing?” I lift a brow, indicating for him to get on with it.

  “As far as Caitlin and her mom go, he confirmed everything we already knew. They set up her death. Found a body, and to make sure no dental records would be found, they drove the car over the cliff. He made damn sure he was the lead on the case. Covered his tracks, paid off a lot of greedy motherfuckers to help him. While he was doing all that, the good old Winslow was off taking care of his wife. She found out about his involvement in drugs, threatened to take Caitlin and run. That’s only part of the reason why he made it look like she died. The rest I think you can figure out on your own.”

  I can, and I do know why. I need to hear it.

  “How long did he know she wasn’t his daughter?”

  “Since the day she was born. The man was sterile. Shooting blanks. Why he waited so long to confront Louisa is buried with him, man. I don’t know. If I had to guess, I would say he didn’t want to be involved in a scandal. His name was too important to him. So, he twisted it to his advantage. Got rid of her when the timing was right and raised Caitlin the way he wanted to.”

  And there it is. The whole ugly truth finally out in the open. Except there’s one piece that needs to be placed in order to lock this down, and I have a feeling we all know what it is.

  “Someone needs to have a sit-down with Trent,” I point out the obvious. I’d prefer it to be me, but at this point, I want this over for Caitlin so we can move on with our lives.

  “Shit,” I bellow out when there’s a soft knock on the door. It’s going to be damn hard to bite my tongue if it’s a nurse coming to check on me.

  “I got it.” Curtis stands and goes to the door. I wait for a minute, my eyes glued to the door as I listen to Curtis talk quietly. I need to get the hell out of here. All the medicine I need is wrapped up in a dark-haired beauty who can take care of me at home.

  “Hey, guys.” I exhale a sigh of relief when Caitlin walks in, followed by her mom and Trent.

  “Hey, babe. You okay?” I ask, not giving two shits whether I sound like a pussy or not. She’s been crying. I can tell by her bloodshot eyes. I glance down to see she’s holding that letter in her hands. Clutching it as if it’s her lifeline. In a way it is, or it would have been years ago if she had been given a chance to read it.

  “Never better. You guys done yet?” She turns to Brick, looks down at his hand, and her smile disappears. “Oh, Brick. I’m so sorry. Are you doing okay?”

  She walks to him, bends over, and kisses his hand.

  “I’m fine, woman. That’s the only apology you're allowed to give me, you hear?”

  “No. I don’t hear. I can say and do what I want. We’re family, remember?”

  I have no damn clue what these two are going on about. I don’t care either. They can have their little family reunion some other time, not in my fucking hospital room.

  “Hands off her, fucker,” I growl.

  Caitlin looks over at me with an eye roll.

  “I may be in a hospital bed, but I’ll kick your fucking ass, family bullshit or not.”

  Brick steps back with both hands raised. I don’t miss the fact he has his middle finger up in the air through his bandages.

  “Trent.” I say his name loud enough to get everyone’s attention.

  Caitlin swings her head around. That hair is wiping across her confused-looking face. Christ. I love her.

  “Katch.” He strides over with the confidence he deserves to have, sticks his hand out, and for the first time in my life, I shake the hand of a cop that I owe my life, Caitlin’s life, and her mother’s, too. Never wou
ld have thought I’d be shaking hands with one. Let alone one who helped bring the woman I want to spend my life with into this world.

  “Come here, Caitlin.” I shift in the bed to give her room.

  My damn dick is begging to stir to life when her tits bounce slightly as she makes her way to me. Fucking sucks I can’t crawl inside of her for God knows how long it’s been since the last time. It also sucks that I’m naked under a thin sheet and a pale blue blanket with everyone in this fucking room.

  I grab her the minute she gets to me. My eyes are telling her to hang tight and to listen.

  She looks at me with those trust-filled emeralds of hers. Sits down and takes my hand in hers.

  “What’s going on?” she asks. Her voice is full of fear.

  I’m not one to fuck around. Not when it comes to her. This may be the wrong way to go about this. I don’t care about that either. What I care about is the truth. The truth that will set my girl free.

  “I can answer that,” Trent speaks up before I have the chance to say anything.

  “What is it?” Her back goes ramrod straight.

  “We’re putting closure to all this shit right now here in the room. The club has everything wrapped up, and you need the essential details to ease your mind,” I reply.

  Fuck, how I want to bring her into my arms, to reassure her that what she’s about to hear will relax her and she owes this man the right to get to know him.

  Trent steps up to the bed, nearing us. The rest of the crowd gives us distance. I run my hand up and down her back, letting her know it will all be okay once the air is cleared.

  “I’m the one who killed Clarence. I’d searched for your mother for years. Grew impatient, went to his house to demand answers, and the fucker decided not to talk. He just taunted me with the fact she was alive and I’d never find her. I shot him. I’ve regretted a lot in my life, carrying remorse around, but Caitlin, I can say I’m not sorry in this case.”

  She remains silent for a long time. I know she’s processing everything at this moment. Trent had alluded to the fact he’d killed Clarence during the bloodbath in my kitchen. Curtis was convinced Caitlin was in too much shock to process it. She needs this closure. Deep down, I hope it gives her that and also a sliver of bonding with her real father. After a few beats, she reaches out a hand to him then stands on her own two feet, wrapping him in a hug. Her sobs wrack her body, and at this moment I know her whole world has come full circle.