Divided (Unguarded #2)

by Ivy Stone

  “You wanna tell me what’s going on with you or you want me to try and guess?”

  My lips turn up as I concentrate on the stars. “I’ve got to tell you something. Probably should’ve told you when I figured it out.” I cough. My throat thickens with emotion I can’t push away.

  “The day we paid Cannon a visit. When we were in his office, I saw a photo on the wall. My mom was in it. Cannon had his arm around her in the photo and it looked like it was taken in the clubhouse a long time ago. Seeing it…” my voice cracks, “…it brought on another memory, and I’m not too sure how to process what I remembered.”

  “I know,” Mason replies, voice sharp and short.

  I twist my head to him. “You knew?”

  “Yeah. I saw you choke up at the photo, but I didn’t want to tip Cannon off. When we walked out, I passed it and realized why.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He shrugs. “I was waiting for you to. I knew you’d come to me when you were ready.”

  My body sags. I dip my chin. “He’s my father, Mase.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” he deadpans.

  I scoff. If only he witnessed the same memory I did. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind that Axel ‘Cannon’ Hawke is my father. Switch out our eyes, the hair, and take in the fact the guy’s got twenty years of life in an outlaw motorcycle club on me—the resemblance is there.

  “All these years of not knowing. Growing up hating a man I didn’t know because I thought he didn’t want us. When it wasn’t true.”

  Disbelief suffocates me.

  Mason perks up. “What do you mean it wasn’t true?”

  I cock my head toward him. “The memory that came back was from the night of my mother’s murder. Was not long after Grandma had found me by her body. The man’s voice I always heard but couldn’t place? It was Cannon’s. I saw his face. He sent us away so we’d be safe. So I wouldn’t be killed like my mom was. He did it to protect us.”

  “You sure we’re talking about the same Axel Hawke?”

  I sigh and my shoulders loosen at Mason’s effort to lighten the mood. We’re in opposite roles for a change. “Yeah. Surprised the hell out of me too.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  I pull my lips together. “No idea. But I’ve got so many questions I want answers too. I’ve spent twenty-nine years of my life wondering why my mother was murdered by an evil son of a bitch. Now I have a chance to finally find out.”

  Mason crosses his arms over his chest and widens his stance. “All right. So we’ll go talk to Cannon.”

  I stand back up and unstiffen my back. “If it’s all good with you, I think I want to do it alone. And can you not say anything to the others just yet? I need to talk to Ali about it first. I haven’t told her yet because I didn’t want to freak her out. She’s been around Cannon and the MC before when they dealt with the Marino’s. I didn’t want to drag up bad memories, but I’ve got to tell her.”

  He nods. “Alison’s a lot stronger now, Roam. She can handle it. And you want to talk to Cannon on your own that’s okay. But I’ll be waiting outside. He might have done right by you when you were a kid, but you’re a cop and as big as he is. I’m not letting you walk into the lion’s den alone.”

  The tension still twisting me up leaves with my best friend’s support. I could walk into a burning building offering no explanation, and if I were to look behind me, Mason would be there following me in without hesitation because it’s what he does. He fights hard and loves harder. There’s no other guy as loyal or as honorable as Mason Cole.

  I give a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks, man. I know you’ve always got my back.”

  He pats me on the shoulder and turns around. “Till the end, brother.”

  I rock forward watching where my dick disappears into Ali’s pussy. I caress the round globes of her ass and pull her down on my shaft. I back out but not all the way letting my dick tease her entrance. Work her up some more, not that she needs it. She’s tight, wet, and milking my cock like nobody’s business. I yank her back down. Thrust hard. Lust shoots up my spine. My jaw tightens. I could stay like this forever. Buried in the tight wet warmth of the only woman I’ll ever love. Ignoring everything else except her. But I can’t. My balls are tightening up. My dick hardens to steel. Her pussy clamps around my cock, locking it in a vise. I pump into her harder. A little faster. My knuckles turn white where I dig into her hips. My knees bite into the sheets. The slapping of my balls against her cunt amplifies in the room and Ali throws her head back. Her long blonde hair splays over her back and I don’t waste the opportunity to wrap it in my hands. I lean over her. One hand full of her hair as the other reaches under her arm, around to her tits. I squeeze one tight in my hand and use it to hold her in place. My fingers wander and I grab her nipple. I tweak it. Pinch it. I pinch it hard and it sends her over the edge. Her pussy spasms around me. A moan rocks through her as she comes. I slide a hand back down her spine and keep up my pace. She’s silk beneath my roughness. So small. Delicate. But now—now she’s not so breakable.

  Pressure builds in my balls and I thrust once, two times more, chasing my own release. My dick pulses and I come. I come hard because of Ali. Because no one gets me like she does. No one does it for me like she does. We’ve come so far from where we first began, and when I told her earlier about the MC president being my father, she reminded me once again how fucking amazing she is. She didn’t freak out on me and retreat. She listened. She cared. She brought ease to my mind, and when she could see I just wanted to forget about it all she dropped her to knees, pulled out my cock and let me ram it down her throat until she gagged. She took it. She took it all—including my heart.

  Sleep beckons me behind my heavy lidded eyes. But my mind won’t shut off. I toss and turn. The sheets rustle as I move. I spare Ali a glance over the other side of the bed as the moonlight casts a shine over her naked back. Glancing at the clock on Ali’s side table, it lights up with ten thirty pm. I tug my hand through my hair, thinking over a probably terrible idea, but one my head just won’t ignore. Fuck it. It’s not that late. I slip out of my bed, careful not to wake Ali and shrug on some clothes. Grabbing her keys from the table near the front door, I quietly shut it behind me.

  I’ve got questions.

  I need answers.

  I can’t wait any longer.

  I kink my neck back. The red and black sign of Black Rose kicks my nerves up a notch.

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Well, here goes nothing.”

  Before the smarter part of me can convince me to back out, I force my feet ahead. I get the eyes of a few men and women smoking and drinking out the front as I rock up to the door. I walk in and the chatter dulls to nothing. The music ceases. Bikers reach for their pieces but I’m not worried. I’m also not here for them. I scan the room. Cannon’s nowhere in sight. I stiffen my shoulders and walk on through to the stairs leading up to the clubhouse. I get to the end of the bar where I spot the VP. The VP, who was also with Cannon the night my mom was taken from me.

  His eyes crinkle with age and a life among outlaws. I stop beside him, and when I look at him, it’s as if he knows.

  Something settles behind his eyes before he turns around and chugs down his beer. “You’ll find him in his office, kid.”

  Unease tickles my back. Every step up the old wooden staircase causes my pulse to thump quicker and louder. My foot catches the top step and Ace greets me with a gun to my chest.

  I stare him down, ignoring the others gathering around us in the room. “If you think killing a cop is a good idea you’re dumber than I thought.”

  He returns my cold stare with one to challenge my own. Balls of steel. The kid and I might have something in common. Apart from the big fucking obvious fact that we share the same father. He doesn’t lower the gun. He doesn’t falter. Not for a second. Not when heavy footsteps belonging to our father pad down the hall toward us. Not when the old man stands beside u
s, taller and wider, giving us a vacant expression not even I can read.

  “You two about fuckin’ done?”

  His presence fills the room. Not with fear, but authority. I back away but not down. Ace does the same but as Cannon beckons me to his office Ace curses under his breath and storms off.

  The outside noise does nothing to calm my nerves. I turn around and Cannon leans against his desk, folding his arms. For an old dude, he still has some pretty solid muscle tone standing out behind his leather cut. My eyes drift to the photos, the reason why I’m here. My palms begin to sweat.

  “Told Cole I’ll call if I have an update on the younger Marino.” His voice hits my back and every muscle becomes rigid.

  I turn around and narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not here for Marino.”

  I walk over to the photo and my heart stammers as my mother’s face glows back at me. Anger heats my veins. How could I not remember this? Why did she never tell me who my father was? Why was she killed? She didn’t deserve to die.

  I yank the photo down and it comes off easily. It’s not in a frame. None of them are, but it doesn’t take away the sense of family resonating from them.

  I slam the photo down on the desk. It mocks me. It mocks me with truths I don’t know. Lies I was probably told. And why? What good can it bring but betrayal and secrets?

  My nostrils flare. “Are you my father?”

  He runs a hand through his hair and stands up straight. “I haven’t been your dad since you were five years old, Roamyn.”

  My throat closes up. I swallow hard. “I never knew it was you.”

  “Figured as much. How is that?” He looks at me, confused. Eyebrows drawing in and I consider not telling him. I’m not the one who owes any explanations here. And father or not we’re still on opposite sides of the law. I rub my chin, mulling it over. If I want him to honest with me, he’s going to want me to be honest with him.

  Curiosity transpires through the both of us.

  “Repressed memory. The trauma of what happened…” I trail off. The memories of that night surface hard and fast, but I do my best to dodge them. I block them out. I don’t let weakness show. “Doctors said I unconsciously blocked out periods of time from before, during, and after my mother’s murder.”

  His eyes soften at the mention of my mom. It’s barely for a second but I catch it. He cares, or at least he did. The life he’s lived. I wouldn’t want to feel anything if I were him either.

  “Just tell me why?” I deadpan.

  He moves around behind his desk and gestures to the old leather seat opposite him. “You might want to sit down for this.”

  “I’m fine,” I reply, tone sharp. I just want to know. I need to. I need the missing pieces to the puzzle. Maybe then I can find some sort of peace.

  Cannon coughs. “What do you want to know, son?”

  I ignore the burn that follows from his endearment. “Everything. Start from the beginning.”

  He slinks back into his chair and his mind wanders off. His gaze unfocused. “The day I met your mom was the best and worst day of my life.”

  Pain tightens in my chest.

  “It was the best because I’d found the only woman I’d ever love. I didn’t need time to make it true. I didn’t need commitment to make it real. But it was also the worst because I’d found the only woman I’d ever love. I’d taken over as president of the club a few months before I met her. I’d stirred up trouble with alliances. I made enemies. Not because I wanted to, but because as president I had a duty to protect my men and that’s what I was doing. But it didn’t make me any friends outside of these walls. The months kept going by and shit wasn’t settling down. I didn’t want your mom to get caught up in our mess and to get hurt. So I pushed her away. But your mom was stubborn. Strong willed, and for some reason I couldn’t understand she loved me. Even though she deserved a fuck of a lot more than what I could give her. She was smart. She worked out what I was doing. It didn’t work. So I cheated on her. Hurt her real bad but it made her leave. Regretted doing that every day since it happened.”

  My blood boils.

  “I couldn’t let her get hurt, Roamyn. I loved her more than life. I loved her more than my club. More than I loved myself. A life without her, knowing she was safe was a life I could live. Living knowing I got her hurt or worst got her killed, it wasn’t something I could deal with. A few months after that happened she came to me and told me she was pregnant. Not that she needed to say it because I could see it for myself. I was so fuckin’ happy. And I knew then what I had to do. For Catherine. For our baby. We kept it quiet and she stayed away from the club. We never got back together. Whether she liked it or not, we both knew for her and the baby’s sake the safest thing to do was to keep it a secret that I was the father. So that’s what we did. I was there for your momma when she needed me, Roamyn. I was holding her hand when she gave birth to you and I watched you grow until you were five years old. I didn’t see you as often as I liked, and I sure as hell wasn’t the father or man you and your mom needed me to be. But I was there when I could be. Until the day I couldn’t be.” He sniffs and tilts his chin down. “Back then, the city was in chaos with everyone trying to be on top. The mafia. Local gangs. The cops. Us. It was a fuckin’ mess. Lies and betrayal led Giuseppe Marino to believe we were responsible for the gang rape of his sister. It wasn’t true. We don’t deal in girls and we sure as fuck don’t rape them. But his sister was bitter after she’d been secretly screwing one of my men for a while and he dumped her ass. She lied because she was pissed off. But Giuseppe didn’t care about the truth. He believed her and saw red. You know what the bastard was like. Shoot first, think later. So he came back. Hard. But to teach me a lesson and remind me who runs this town, he killed Catherine.”

  Anguish. It falls upon our shoulders with a weight I struggle to carry.

  “Your mother was my greatest passion and my biggest weakness, Roamyn. And Giuseppe Marino knew it.”

  “So he killed her,” I whisper. Everything falls into place.

  Cannon nods. “Yeah, he did. Thank God you hid or he would have killed you too. I’d already lost Catherine and my baby girl she was carrying. I wasn’t going to lose you too. I sent you and your grandma away so he wouldn’t find you. The man wasn’t an idiot. He would have worked out you were mine if he hadn’t already. And we wanted revenge. I wasn’t going to have you around for the aftermath. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  He stares off, his expression pained. Digging up the past looks as brutal for him as it fucking feels having it laid out for me.

  Regret etches into his voice. “But I’ve questioned that decision every day since Beth left with you.”

  I choke back the strange emotion laying in my throat and get to the question I’m sure he’s waiting for me to ask. “What did you do?”

  His eyes harden. “You asking as a son who lost his mother or as a cop?”

  “I have no intention of bringing you down for defending her honor, Cannon. I just want to know what happened, so I can finally settle the questions in my head. I’ve been living too long in the past. Marino’s dead now, it’s time to move on.”

  He waits a moment before answering. “We killed his lying bitch of a sister. Shot her. Called Marino. He met us at the warehouse where we had his sister’s body. And beside her were the four men who did actually rape her. They were alive. Well, they were until Giuseppe was done with them. He had fucked up and he knew it. My man had fucked up ever getting involved with Marino pussy. I’d be forever chasing revenge on Marino. But we couldn’t keep going the way we were. It was a blood bath every day. It was a war neither of us would win. So we settled the score. For then. Until the day, I got to kill him.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. One hand rubs against the shadow on my jaw. “That’s why you’ve always helped us. It never made sense. Not really.”

  “Well, I wasn’t doing it for the fuckin’ fun of it. In case you hadn’t noticed, Cole really is
n’t one of my favorite fuckin’people. But I had a plan, Roamyn. From the very beginning, I was always going to make that man pay for what he did to Catherine. I’d sent you away because it was the safest and right thing to do. You deserved everything your mother couldn’t have because she got involved with me. I wanted better for you. But that meant losing you, too. This life isn’t for everyone. And back then it was fuck of a lot worse than it is now. I was lucky if I made it through the day without getting shot at and you can bet your ass I slept with one eye open. I’d lost everything I loved most in this fucked up place. I had the rest of my life for retribution and he deserved nothing short of a decade of torture. Over the years I made shit happen. It was subtle. He never suspected the random fuck-ups and set backs were the club’s doing, which was what I needed when I had more kids come along unexpectedly.”

  My fists clench at my sides. My fingernails dig into the palms of my hand. Marino. I want to bring him back to life and kill him myself.

  “Were you ever going to tell me who I was to you?”

  Cannon lets out a heavy sigh. “Son, I didn’t know it was you for sure until I found out you were a cop. The moment I met you when you were on the streets I had my suspicions. But you went by King. Too much didn’t fit and I couldn’t be sure. I tried to find out. Used my people over in Cali to find out what they could, but all they could tell me was the date and why your grandma died and that you left California right after. If you were my kid. It was a long shot and confronting you was a risk for my club I just wasn’t willing to take. Not until I knew more. I’m sorry I hadn’t said anything once I did realize. But to be honest, I wasn’t sure you’d want to know.”

  My heart slices open, because while he’s not right, I’m not entirely sure he’s wrong.

  “I’ve spent most of my life asking myself questions I never thought I’d get the answers too. I have them now thanks to you. For that I’m grateful. Did I think my father would be the president of the Misery’s Angels Motorcycle Club? Fuck no. But don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t want to know you because of our different lifestyles. It’s messy and complicated. But it is what it is.”