by Debra Kayn
The car slowed down. Lena dragged her gaze forward. Her childhood home sat in front of her. A one-story brick house. Ugly and barely maintained. What had happened inside the home was like nothing she'd ever viewed throughout the years from the outside of other houses, through the open curtains.
Thad stopped the vehicle at the curb and shut off the engine. "Anytime you want to leave, just say so, and I'll take you home."
She waited for her heartbeat to accelerate. Instead, a chill went down her spine.
"I need to ask you for a favor," she said, knowing Thad was not the kind of man to stand and be the observer. He'd try to protect her, and things could get ugly.
"Anything." He rubbed her leg.
"When we go inside, don't..." She inhaled deeply. "Things will be different than you're used to with your family. It's okay, and you don't have to make them change."
He frowned. She patted his hand and opened the car door before he could question her further.
Outside, the wind hit her face. She zipped her coat higher and waited for Thad on the sidewalk, then grabbed his hand and led him to the door. The faster they got this over with, the better.
She knocked on the door and held onto Thad. Not because she needed the support, but because her time was limited. She had no idea if standing here would be the last time she touched him.
The door opened, and a man stood in front of her. It took a few seconds for the man Jack to morph into the boy Jack and recognition come to her. The round face and baby fat still clung to her brother's body, along with the too long hair in need of a trim.
Jack glanced from her to Thad and back to her again. "I thought you weren't going to come."
Taken aback by the deeper voice coming from her brother, she said, "I changed my mind."
Jack stepped back and waved his hand. "Come on in."
She held on to Thad's hand and stepped inside. The stale smell of tobacco clung to the walls and assaulted her nose. She gagged, covering her nose. Thad pulled her closer, putting his arm around her.
Jack walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. Lena remained standing. The urge to hurry the visit along poked her continuously. She swallowed several times to make sure she wasn't going to lose her stomach.
"Why did you hire Notus Motorcycle Club to find me?" she asked.
"I'm sure he told you." Jack pointed at Thad. "Mom's dying."
"That has nothing to do with me." She clamped her teeth. Before she'd walked through the door, she promised herself not to get defensive.
Jack hefted himself off the couch and walked over to the book case and removed an envelope. Approaching her, he handed it to her. She looked down and read her old name on the piece of mail.
"What is this?"
Jack motioned to her hands. "Open it."
She slid her finger under the flap, prying the adhesive apart. Extracting the paper, she unfolded the official looking document. It was her mother's Last Will and Testament. She scanned down where her mother named her and Jack as her adult children.
"You can skip to the end," said Jack.
Her gaze flickered down, and she read. Her mother was going to legally disown her upon her death. She was blocked from contesting the will, going after the house that her brother inherited, and getting any shares of the money in her mother's bank account.
She refolded the paper, slipped it into the envelope, and put the official mail in the back pocket of her jeans. Her mom wasted her money getting the legal document drawn up. She wanted nothing.
"That protects me." Jack pointed at her. "You can't sue me or stop the lawyer from giving me everything."
"I don't want anything," she said.
"You say that now, but that paper will stop you from coming back after mom is dead." Jack's eyes lit up in amusement. "You never did anything for her. She doesn't owe you a penny."
"You're right." She was bored with the conversation. "You should've saved your money on the search for me and posted the information in the newspaper instead."
Jack frowned. "The lawyer said we needed to give that to you."
"Then, you should've paid a better lawyer." She dared not look at Thad, or she'd demand he walk her out. Instead, she directed her attention to her brother. "I take it she's still alive."
Jack exhaled loudly as if he too was bored with the conversation. "She's in her room. It's been three weeks or so since she's been able to get out of bed. She's still talking when she's awake, but she sleeps a lot. The Hospice nurse keeps saying one day she won't wake up. She's stopped eating, and they removed the feeding tube."
"I'm going to go see her, and then I'll be out of your life for good." She grabbed Thad's hand and led him out of the room, down the hall, and stopped in front of a closed door.
Thad pulled her back and whispered, "Babe, you don't need to do this."
"Yes, I do." She lifted her chin, unwilling to lower her voice and hide anything from him. "It's the only way you'll understand what kind of person I am."
"Jesus Christ," he mumbled. "Do you think I give a rat's ass what other people say or think."
"You might." She opened the door.
In the bedroom, her mother laid on her back in bed, looking older than her sixty-four years. The blonde hair she remembered her mom styling every morning had been reduced to a few wisps of fuzz on a bald head. Her sculpted cheekbones even higher in her sunken face. Her mom's appearance came as a shock. She was no longer a woman to fear and had become a poster model for Hospice.
"She's sleeping," said Lena.
She leaned against Thad, unable to hide her disappointment. The purpose of the trip to Eugene was to show Thad why she lived the way she did and had asked him to have a non-committal relationship with her.
Determined to get the job done in one trip, she stepped away from Thad. Not wanting to touch her mother, Lena cleared her throat. Her mom stirred, moaning so low that it was barely audible in the silent room. She stared at her mother's eyelids as they fluttered open and she saw the moment her mom recognized her long, lost daughter.
"W-where's Jack?" The weak, shaky voice was nothing like the stern, loud one Lena remembered.
"In the living room." Lena walked around the bed and stood at the other side. She wanted to see Thad as her relationship with her mother became clearer to him. "Jack gave me the will. At least you did one thing off your bucket list. I'm no longer your daughter as soon as you die."
Thad's gaze intensified and he refused to look away from Lena. She looked back down at her mother. There were no hurt feelings over being disowned. She only wished her mom had given her away years ago.
"I-I never wanted you," whispered her mom. "I should've had an abortion and got rid of you, but he wouldn't let me."
She'd heard the story her whole life. Her father wouldn't let her mom get an abortion, yadda yadda. She was the reason her dad left when she was born. She made her mom suffer and work two jobs to feed her. According to Amelia Grayson, Lena caused every hardship that came her mom's way.
"Yes, you should've gotten rid of me," she said, holding up her hand when Thad stepped toward the end of the bed to come to her.
"You...." Her mom wheezed. "There was nothing about you to love. I hated you, and that's your fault."
Lena stared at her mom because she couldn't make herself look at Thad. Her mom had specified what Thad refused to see. She hoped he'd heard and understood. She never wanted Thad to love her because he'd only be hurt when the disenchantment of their relationship wore off. When one of them had a bad day and took it out on each other, he'd hate her. When she eventually irritated him, Thad would be reminded of how Lena's own mother believed she was unlovable, and he'd believe it was true and leave her.
"I know," whispered Lena, feeling the weight of the burden placed around her neck.
Thad grabbed her arm. "That's enough. We're leaving."
She let him pull her around the bed. The room swayed, and she hoped she wouldn't pass out.
"You're
just like him," said her mom, her voice stronger. "Despicable and disappointing."
Lena stopped and looked over her shoulder at her mom. "Like who?"
"Alexander Grimaldi." Her mom's mouth opened and shut several times, and she sputtered, "Your father."
She turned her head and looked up at Thad. "My...?"
"Fuck," he muttered, practically lifting her off her feet as he removed her from the room.
Her father? Her dad left when she was born. His name was Steve Grayson.
Thad hurried her through the house. Jack stepped in front of the door and Thad pushed him out of the way with one hand solidly planted on her brother's chest. Outside, Thad cut across the lawn and put her in the passenger seat of the car. She looked back at the house as he buckled the seatbelt around her. What had her mother meant? Was she delusional? People dying were often incoherent. She was probably on drugs to make her passing painless.
She knew who her father was because she'd been blamed for him leaving her whole life.
Her brother peeked out from behind the curtain in the living room. From the outside, Lena watched him cover up the secrets of the house. There was nothing normal that ever happened in that home.
Chapter 21
Lena sat silently in the seat of the car after leaving her mother's house. Thad had gone to the closest drive-through window and ordered a coffee and put it in her hands before getting on I-5 and heading north. She'd taken a few sips, and he hoped the caffeine would boost her adrenaline. The visit had zapped all her fucking strength.
If he had known what was going to go down, he never would've mentioned going back and seeing her dying mother.
He laid his hand on her thigh. "You okay?"
"Yep, I’m fine." She looked at him. "For what it's worth, I do feel bad for making you hear all that, but you wouldn't have listened if I'd told you myself."
"You didn't make me do a thing."
She leaned her head back against the headrest of the seat. "I agreed to go see her because I wanted you to hear what she had to say about me. It was the only way I could make you understand that a normal relationship with me isn't possible. What she said about me being unlovable? It's true. Eventually, lust dims and the mystery of getting to know me will fade."
He squeezed and twisted the steering wheel. "I'm pretty sure love doesn't work that way, babe."
"A lot of things don't work the way we imagine or know." She sipped from the cup. "When a woman brings a child into the world, she makes a promise to her son or daughter. A lifelong commitment to love them unconditionally and protect them. My mother, instead of making that promise, showed me her hatred in every way imaginable, proving I was unlovable."
He glanced at her. "There was never a time when she —"
"Loved me?" She paused. "No. As far back as I can remember, I don't remember her touching me. I brushed my own hair, dressed myself, and cooked my own meals with food that I could find in the kitchen. I don't remember her ever asking how my day went or how I was feeling. Instead, the only time she talked to me was to tell me how much she hated me and I was a disappointment to her, ruining her life. I raised myself, and I made a lot of mistakes, but I was able to get away from her."
He hated that she'd never experienced a loving home growing up. His family had more than their share of heartbreak when Thalia was kidnapped and murdered, and while they all dealt with losing her in different ways, he never once doubted his parents love and the support of his MC brothers. When times got tough, they banded together stronger.
Lena seemed more concerned about him dealing with the shock of hearing a mother talk about a daughter with such hatred. He rubbed her thigh. Somewhere inside of her, she had to be hurt. He couldn't figure out how she was holding it together when all he felt like doing was driving back to her mom's house and helping her meet her death a few days early for what she'd put Lena through.
Everybody, no matter their age wanted to please their mom and dad, whether they were good parents or bad parents. There had been studies done proving that fact. He'd learned a lot searching for missing persons and had first-hand exposure to dysfunctional families. Even abused kids who'd grown up hating their abusive parent secretly wanted approval, even if they couldn't voice it.
He refused to believe Lena was okay.
"Why did you want me there?" he asked.
She set the coffee cup in the holder between the seats. "Because you're growing too close to me, and when we were apart for that week, I missed you more than I ever imagined."
"You're not making sense."
"I want what I described when we first met." She placed her hand on his, linking their fingers. "No expectations. If you feel like getting together with me, come on over to my house. If I want to spend time with you, I'll come to you. But, you need to stop acting like I belong to you and trying to take care of me. I'm not the normal kind of woman you're used to. I don't want marriage or children. I want you to have the freedom to leave me when you realize you want more out of a relationship. And, when that time comes, I want you to smile and think of me fondly when you're gone, not hate me. Jonelle Grayson received hate for eighteen years. My mother told me constantly that I was a disappointment and she hated me. I don't want you to hate Lena Hollis and tarnish my new name."
"You know what I think?" He gritted his teeth because he had a whole lot more to say about her mom's mothering skills. "It's a lot easier for a parent to say they're disappointed in their child than it is for an adult to say they were disappointed in their parent."
He swallowed and stared out at the road. Rain sprinkles splattered the windshield like the beating of his heart. He finally understood what Lena wanted out of her life.
She wanted to be loved.
Yeah, she'd explained her feelings in a matter of fact way with no emotions attached, but he'd finally seen the broken child inside of her desperately wanting to gain his approval. And, she believed she'd figured out a way to experience love by giving him everything she imagined a man would want.
It made him gut sick.
And, it made him more determined to show her how to love and what it felt like to be loved. Though fuck knew, he wasn't the right man to teach her. As a Notus MC member, he rode a dangerous path. Working with the St. John's Police Department finding missing persons kept their conscious clean for the times they had to rid the world of the killers, rapists, and abusers who walked free because of technicalities in the court system. It was what was done wearing the patch, kept within the club, that others never heard a word about. He'd killed men. He'd killed Thalia's murderer. He'd kill anyone who harmed those he loved and those that had family who loved them. They didn't have to be a blood relative to him. Hell, he didn't even need to know them. Evil men harming women and children had no place walking around near good people, and he had the resources to remove them.
"Okay." He squeezed her hand and glanced over at her. "I'll do it."
He was going to do a hell of a lot more, and he wasn't going to give her a choice. He loved her, and he wasn't going to walk away because she was inexperienced in love.
"You don't think this arrangement is too strange from what you're used to?"
It was bullshit. She used words such as strange, abnormal, and wrong to describe her life. They were only words she used to protect herself for wanting normal and close to perfect.
"What I think is you're brave, you're beautiful, you're sexy, and you're smart. It's all those things that I'm attracted to and make me interested in agreeing with you." He put both hands on the steering wheel and then reached over and turned the speed up on the windshield wipers. "I plan on sleeping in your bed tonight, babe."
"I'd like that." She sighed and slouched down in the seat.
Today had taken a lot out of her, coupled with stressing about their relationship all last week, and Tigres before that. He had no idea what the first step would be to make her see how much he was falling in love with her, but while he figured it out, he'd be right with her.
The thing that got him riled more than listening to her mom throw hatred at her was Lena's silence. Not once had she complained or used the abuse as an excuse to treat others badly. She never spoke with any contempt toward her family, only stated her past, when she had a right to hate what they'd done to her. It was Lena's silent acceptance that her mother was right in her accusations that she was unlovable that made him hurt for her.
No one should ever accept that kind of treatment.
She looked at him again. "Thad?"
"Yeah, babe?"
"Did she say my dad's name is Alexander Grimaldi?" She scoffed. "Why would she say that when my whole life she's blamed me for Steve Grayson leaving because I was born?"
"What's on your birth certificate?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. I have a copy at the house because I received it in the mail after I changed my name and had to get a new driver's license and social security card. Do you think my real father's name is on it?"
"I think whatever name your mother put on it will be there. It's not always the truth. Taking a wild guess, I doubt your mom would know the truth if it slapped her in the face."
"I'll have to look when we get back to my house." She tucked her hands between her thighs. "Though it would explain a lot."
"What's that?"
"You didn't notice that I look nothing like Jack." She shrugged. "You can't tell by the way my mom looks now, but the only thing I got from her is my chin. Our coloring is different, the shape of our nose, our ears, and I have brown eyes. My mom and my brother both have blue eyes."
He only half listened because he'd heard the name Alexander Grimaldi before. He couldn't figure out where or why.
Twenty miles later, he looked over and found Lena with her eyes closed leaning her head against the passenger window. Without her witnessing his reaction, he fisted his hand and air punched the steering wheel without making a sound.
He wanted to hit something. She'd obviously expected him to run from her. Now that he'd agreed to stick around, she'd pushed everything out of her head and moved on. As if it was simple to say, "Don't love me".
