by Debra Kayn
Jacko was there the day Jeremy got arrested. Her strength deserted her. No one had to tell her Jacko killed the two men. Cam hedged around the truth and mentioned the men dying from other injuries. That meant if Jacko killed the men, then...
"Oh, God," she mumbled. "Jacko got arrested."
"You need to stop making up your own opinion about what's going on and listen to me," said Cam.
She raised her gaze, overwhelmed and completely useless. She had no idea what she should do or who she needed to see to help Jacko. "What do I need to do?"
"Stop jumping to conclusions." Cam lit a cigarette and pulled a large envelope from his back pocket. "Here."
She took the package. "What's this?"
"Everything you need," said Cam.
"It's from Moroad?" She turned the envelope over.
The number one written in blue ink was the only marking on the package and gave her no clue about what was inside. She looked up at Cam. Was he telling her to leave? Were these papers to start a new life, somewhere else, away from the club?
"It's from Jacko," said Cam.
She clutched the package to her chest. The instant, hard relief plowed into her. "He's alive," she whispered, her voice thick and choked with emotions.
Cam walked away, leaving her alone. The spot where he stood warbled in her vision, she lost her hold on the tears she'd refused to shed for the last week.
Jacko was alive.
She hadn't lost him.
Whatever she had to do, she'd do it and bring him back to her. She'd never give up on him. If it took years of visiting him in prison while he paid for the crime of killing Sarah's killers, she'd stay by his side.
Stumbling to her room, she blindly opened the door and locked herself inside. On the bed, she ran her fingers over the envelope. Jacko wasn't dead. He sat in prison doing time for a crime she never stopped. Her hope that he'd return to her fizzled and for the first time in her life, she felt inadequate and powerless to help him return to her.
She pried the soft metal tab up and slipped her finger under the lip of the envelope. Her heart raced in anticipation of what Jacko gave her and hoped for instructions on how she could help him. The first thing she'd do is hire an attorney. No, she'd get a job, and then hire an attorney. Maybe the club would let her continue to live at the motel for free. She could use the money to pay the lawyer.
She pulled out the stack of papers, surprised to find so many. The bulk of the envelope still swollen, she looked again and found a stack of cash at the bottom. Ignoring the money, she started reading from the top page.
Amy,
The men involved with killing Sarah are dead. The danger toward you is gone. It's over.
I asked Cam to give you this package in the chance I survived. I promised you I'd come back to you, never intending to keep my word. My word never seemed important until now, and you deserve a man who can fulfill every promise, every dream, every need you have. I wish I could be that man for you, but I'm not.
I can't change my past. There are things I never told you, and you need to know the truth. Once you realize why I've done the things I have, you'll never want to see me again. I keep reminding myself that I'm telling you everything so that you can go on.
Momma, I tried. I did everything I could to keep everyone safe, but in doing so, I've committed a bigger crime against you. I'll pay the price of what I've done for the rest of my life, and even then any kind of punishment would never be enough.
No, I don't give a fuck about the men I killed or the crimes I committed against others.
I'm a killer.
I have no regrets.
When I took you to my childhood home, I told you there were three reasons why I'm crazy. I kept one of the reasons secret. I never planned to tell anyone, especially you. If I could get away with not telling you now and know you could go on living a life that brought you happiness and contentment, I'd take my secrets to the grave. But, I've gotten to know you and how strong you are. I never knew a woman could have the strength, the dedication, and the commitment I've received from you. I underestimated you, and I need you to know the truth. It's all here in this package.
I'm tired, Momma.
I'm not going to live forever the way I am. Most of all, you deserve more from me and in the process, I'm going to have to hurt you. I'm sorry. So fucking sorry.
I never planned on loving you. I can't even tell you when I realized I do. Shit, I can't even tell you why I do or explain how you gut me every second of every day. You make me feel safe being myself. Nothing I do or say turns you away from me. People talk about soul mates and all that bullshit, but I'm starting to think they know what they're talking about, because I feel the strength inside of you, and you gave that to me.
It's that strength inside of you that makes me know you deserve the truth. Your strength will see you through dealing with what I'm putting in your hands.
You told me you were in, and I wasn't lying to you when I said the same. You're in my heart to the day I die.
I'm sorry, Momma.
I tried to protect you and instead I'm the person who ended up hurting you the most. Moroad Motorcycle Club will help you with anything you need. Cam knows everything. Lean on them and get your feet back under you. Be happy.
Jacko
She laid the papers on her lap and inhaled deeply, stunned and more confused than ever. Jacko wrote as if he was never coming back. She failed to understand what he was telling her. He spoke of secrets and hurting her, but he hadn't said anything.
She set aside the letter and scanned the next sheet of paper. The header on the letterhead came from Silver Valley Mental Health Institute. She quickly scanned the page, stopping midway down when Sarah's name appeared.
Sarah O'Harris came to SVMHI unresponsive to outside stimuli, unable to communicate, and unable to see to her basic needs. While Miss O'Harris continues to allow her caregivers to dress, feed, and see to her person, she remains unresponsive and disassociated to those around her. Therapy sessions have been unproductive.
Prognosis: Out of the few cases documented in Medical Journals, there has been no proof of any patients recovering.
Frantic, she scanned back up to the top. The letter was dated two weeks ago.
She dumped the stack of papers on the bed, hurried to the door, and stopped. Her heart raced.
Sarah was alive.
Her legs shook, and she slumped to the floor, leaning her head against the door. Sarah was alive. Jacko told her that her sister was dead.
He'd taken her to the cemetery. She'd seen her sister's name engraved in marble.
She pushed herself off the floor and returned to the bed. Caught in a web of lies, she read through the rest of the papers to find out what else he'd kept from her.
Two hours later, filled with her sister's prognosis and highlights of what Sarah had gone through since her kidnapping—provided by Jacko to the doctors, Amy wandered outside the motel room numb and in disbelief.
Cam sat on his motorcycle outside her room. The area was quiet and empty of all the other members. Rage filled her.
She shoved her hands in her pockets and cleared her throat. "Where is he?"
Cam combed his fingers through his beard. "I can't tell you."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both."
Betrayed by the man she'd fallen in love with, she bottled all her pain and shoved it out of the way. "I was told I could ask the club for help, and I'm asking you to take me to my sister."
Cam nodded. "I'll arrange to take you in the morning. Visiting hours are strict. There's only two times during the day you can visit and only the names on the list will get you in to see her, and that's you and Jacko."
She exhaled. Her emotions all spent, she wanted to lay down and close her eyes. "Thank you."
"Amy..." Cam leaned forward and braced his forearms on his handlebar. "I've known Jacko more years than I can remember. He's a crazy son of a bitch, but when it came to his feelings toward y
our sister and you, he was solid."
Bile rose in her throat, and she looked Cam in the eyes. "He told me my sister was dead and showed me her name on the memorial wall at the cemetery. For five years, he paid for my sister's care at an institution. He took her away from me. I mourned her. I was alone. There are some secrets that are unforgivable."
She walked back into the motel room and laid down on the bed. How could he?
A cry erupted and her sobs blended with her outcry over Jacko's betrayal. Her body racked as she beat her fist against his pillow. Over and over, she punched out wanting to hurt him. Hurt him for the pain and suffering he'd caused her. He'd stripped her of everything.
Her sister was alive. Five years she'd mourned Sarah, wishing it was her that'd been kidnapped so that Sarah could live.
She wept, broken into irreparable pieces until she couldn't catch her breath and thought she was dying. She closed her eyes. Closed off the ache in her heart knowing her sister suffered alone locked up with strangers and kept from the only family member she had.
Closed off her thoughts of Jacko.
Chapter Twenty Seven
The high sun warmed Jacko's shoulders. He stood behind the hedge surrounding the institute to stay out of view from the two redheads sitting out on the patio at the tables. Though he kept them both in his sight.
Nobody could stop him from checking on Amy and Sarah. He'd shouldered the responsibilities of Sarah's care since Flores dropped her off in his driveway assuming she was dead. He paid the bill to house her at the institute, followed up with the doctors treating her, and visited her as often as he could get away until he was incarcerated. Then he'd had Cam check up on her. Once he was released, he came to visit her two, sometimes three, times a week, usually in the middle of the night.
After five years of hiding his visits and making arrangements to come and visit Sarah, he finally had the freedom to come any time he wanted. Except, he'd given away his visitation rights. He filled out the paperwork to make Amy the sole guardian of Sarah and by now, he assumed Amy had made it clear to the staff that he was not allowed inside.
None of that mattered after seeing the two O'Harris sisters together.
Sarah's red curls shined bright in the sun. He couldn't see her face, but he knew by heart what he'd find. Her green eyes stared straight ahead at nothing. Her lips remained slightly open. Her motionless hands rested in her lap. No matter how hard Amy tried to draw Sarah out of the protective shell she'd created during her time with Los Li, she'd be met with indifference.
His attention went to Amy and a shudder rocked through him. He wanted to protect her from the shitload of emotions she'd go through before she finally accepted Sarah's condition. If he had any hope, any inkling of Sarah living, thinking, aware, he'd be the first to inform Amy her sister had survived.
Except, the Sarah they both knew had died.
Doctors called Sarah's medical condition 'The Silent Cotard Delusion'. That horrible day he was handed a diagnosis for her, he failed to understand what those words meant. Dr. Scarborough lowered her voice and told him Sarah had wished herself dead through her traumatic experience being held captive by Los Li, and her mind had listened to her wishes. She was one step up from a vegetable because she walked when someone guided her and sat when someone put her in a chair. Everything else, dead.
None of the usual therapy and even the experiments had worked to undo the damage. There was no hope of recovery. She would live the rest of her days without recognizing those around her or showing any sign of life.
It took him six months to accept the changes. He pulled out a cigarette and lit the end. He'd lost her. Because he was a Moroad MC member and through his association had brought Los Li into her life, he took responsibility for killing her.
The following week after accepting the truth, he'd let Amy know her sister was killed in Mexico. Then, he murdered one of the men who dirtied his hands kidnapping Sarah, and stuck around the crime scene until the police arrived. He needed to get back inside prison to kill the others.
He tossed the cigarette on the ground and ground it out with the heel of his boot. Sarah would never know what he'd done or learn what kind of man he'd turned into. For that, he was thankful.
Ethnically, someone in a vegetable state could be pulled off life support and let go with a physician's approval that there was no hope. He stared inside the yard. Sarah was in her own protected world, a world of nothing. He hoped wherever her thoughts took her; she was content there.
Amy reached over and laid her hand on Sarah's hand. Jacko swallowed through the tightening in his throat. He'd wanted to protect Amy from the pain and hopelessness. Her nurturing instincts to mother Sarah would in turn destroy her. She'd never give up wanting more, and the disappointment would smother her loving spirit until the stress killed her.
Except, he'd fallen in love with Amy and learned she was stronger than he originally believed. He'd fucked up and should've trusted her instead of protecting her. Somehow, someway, he could've figured out a way to let her see her sister earlier than keeping the truth from her.
A nurse walked to the O'Harris table. He pushed aside the hedge and hooked his fingers in the Cyclone fence on the other side wanting to know what they were saying.
Amy rubbed her hands along her thighs and nodded at the nurse. The set mouth, drawn eyebrows, and paleness on her face failed to hide the shock and devastation she'd gone through all week as she educated herself on Sarah's condition. There was no way to prepare her for what she'd find at the institute, and he witnessed one of many devastating blows she'd feel.
"Fuck," he whispered.
He'd ran, instead of facing her. She'd take his actions for a coward. All he wanted to do was relieve her of her responsibilities toward him. If he'd returned to her, she'd be torn in two. His intent wasn't to hurt her. He wanted her in one piece.
Amy ducked her chin as the nurse left the area. The metal of the fence cut into Jacko's fingers. He shook the barrier in his frustration. He wanted to go to her, protect her, tell her everything would be okay. He planned to continue paying for Sarah's care until the day she died of old age, and he'd take care of Amy, too.
He'd laid everything out in the package he left her. She had to be okay.
He let go of the fence and stepped around the hedge when Amy stood from the table. He moved back behind cover and watched.
Amy turned from the table and let her head fall back, gazing at the sky. He held his blink longer than necessary, afraid to breath. He understood her need to seek answers out of thin air. He'd had five years to accept Sarah's condition. Amy had only known her sister was alive and living in the institution for one week.
"What are you doing?" a feminine voice spoke behind him.
He braced and turned, recognizing the swing-shift nurse who often would open the door for him after visiting hours. "Hey, Carla."
Carla approached him and frowned. "I learned on Monday that you no longer are allowed on the grounds."
He held out his arms. "I haven't gone inside. I just needed to see..."
Carla peered around him. "I tried talking with Sarah's sister when she came to me about writing a formal letter keeping you from visiting. You've taken wonderful care of Sarah and made sure the best doctors worked with her. I tried to explain what a positive influence you have been in her care the last year, but she was uninterested in hearing anything I had to say concerning you."
"I appreciate the support, but Amy's right. Yep, she's right. Always right. She's the best person to handle everything from here on out," he said.
He glanced over the hedge and found Amy back at the table, holding her sister's hand. He'd made the right decision. The sooner Amy accepted the changes in her life now that Los Li was no longer a concern, she could go on to find happiness.
Carla laid her hand on his arm. "Jacko?"
He turned, gazing down at the pudgy fingers and chipped nail polish. The physical touch reminded him he'd slipped out of his role in
life. He grinned and swayed from side to side.
"Work, work, work. You better not be late," he sang.
Carla's face softened. "Come back in the morning after nine. I'll let you in when visiting hours start. Sarah's sister has been coming in close to noon. You can visit her if you'd like, and we'll keep it our little secret."
He dipped his chin. One last time to see Sarah, explain his position, and he'd be free to go back to the criminal lifestyle that kept him focused, knowing he'd finished his business outside of prison.
"Yeah, that's good." Jacko stepped away from the hedge, putting distance between him and the institute. "I'll be here."
He walked across the parking lot, down the narrow lane, and behind the utility van parked at the end of the street where he'd hid his motorcycle. He slipped his gloves on and rode away, feeling empty. He had to stay away from Amy, keep his distance from Sarah, and walk away from the problems he created. But first, he had one more thing he needed to finish.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Bear stood outside Amy's motel door, arms crossed, feet spread, and blocked her from leaving her room. She shook her head, tired of dealing with every single Moroad MC member. His large size left her no room to squeeze past him, and she'd already missed an hour out of her time she visited with Sarah.
"Please, move." She pushed on his broad shoulder. "You're starting to piss me off. I need to leave."
"Not until you tell me what this is all about." He unfolded his arms and held up a stack of cash. "It was on the table in the kitchen. Johnson has no idea where it came from, and I sure in the fuck didn't leave it laying around. That leaves you."
"Fine." She tossed her purse on the nearby wooden chair. "Jacko gave me the money. Since he's gone, and I'm not associated with the club anymore, the cash belongs to Moroad. I figured you or Johnson would make sure it got back to Jacko."
