by CP Smith
He nodded once.
“You were in danger?” Cali gasped.
“That’s his excuse for leavin’ me behind. Don’t believe a word of it,” I muttered to her.
“It’s the truth,” my father defended, “and I didn’t abandon you. I kept a close eye on you from a distance.”
Not close enough.
The same old bitterness sank in. “Just how many times—over the years—were you in town, yet didn’t bother to knock on our door?” My question came out in a sneer. Even I could hear the hate.
“Poppy,” Sienna whispered, “I understand your anger, but please keep an open mind. Maybe he’s tellin’ the truth.”
Was she insane?
“Keep an open mind? He dumped Momma and me in Savannah so that he could be closer to your mother, not for my protection.” I shot my father a scathing look. “I guess what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas.”
Nate’s hand landed on my shoulder and he squeezed to get my attention. “Retract your claws, Kitten. Sienna isn’t the enemy.” Her eyes darted to mine. I could see the hurt my words had caused, so I mouthed sorry then bit my lip to keep quiet. She smiled slightly, letting me know I was forgiven.
“So why did you leave Poppy if you truly cared?” Sienna asked, but her voice held no anger. It was evident she had no contempt for the man we called father, and that unnerved me more than it should. He was her father too, she had every right to hate him as much as I did, but a tiny bit of jealousy seeped inside my heart at how well she was handling this. Him. Us.
“It’s complicated,” our father replied.
She looked at me with trepidation, then turned back to him. “Was Poppy in danger because you’re a criminal?”
He didn’t have a chance to answer because Bo Strawn—Sienna’s hunky man who was also a Savannah homicide detective—did as he marched through the door followed by Devin Hawthorne, Cali’s devilish man and former homicide detective turned private dick.
“He’s not a criminal, he’s ATF,” Bo growled, wrapping Sienna in his arms. “He was undercover when he met and married your mother, Poppy, the daughter of a Devils MC member who was under investigation for drug traffickin’.”
“Don’t,” my father growled. I stared openmouthed back at him. He was a Federal agent? Then it hit me what Bo had said about my mother.
“Jax Teller is your father?” I cried out, my whole attention switching to my mother.
“Jax Teller is a fictional character,” Cali mumbled under her breath.
“It’s a metaphor,” I kind of snipped back.
“A metaphor is a comparison. Usin’ the name Jax Teller to describe your grandfather is more of a reference of the man your grandfather might be.”
I turned, looked at her, and rose a brow. Seriously? “Thank you, Miss Thesaurus.”
She bit her lip and looked away, but I didn’t miss the smirk Devin gave her when she mumbled, “Thesauruses are for synonyms, Ms. Webster would make more sense.”
Leave it to an editor to clarify things. I would have laughed at her ridiculousness if I wasn’t an emotional mess.
“So your father was what? Some one-percenter or somethin’? Did dear old Dad bust him and now you’re on the run?”
My father looked at my mother. She shook her head at him rapidly, and what little semblance of control I had started to crack. Whatever they were keeping from me was bad.
“You need to tell her, or I will,” Bo advised, glancing back at me with an expression that made my blood run cold. “She deserves to know.”
“Tell me what?” I whispered. “What are you hidin’?”
The room lay quiet as I waited. No one breathed, no one moved. Bo glared at my father, and my father glared back.
“I’m not your mother, I’m your aunt,” a ragged voice finally called out. “My father killed your mother when you were three months old. He vowed to kill you and your father for turnin’ my sister against him, so I agreed to hide with you here in Savannah.”
And my world tilted off its axis once again.
“That’s a lie,” I whispered hoarsely, the air punching from my lungs as if I’d been struck. She started to open her mouth, but I repeated on a shout, “That’s an ugly, filthy lie!” shutting her up. I swung around and looked at my father, praying he’d tell me she was lying. But his head was bowed, both hands wrapped around his neck.
Was anything about my life real?
Shock surged through my body like a lightning bolt, and I began to shake. I was suddenly cold. Emotionless. I felt nothing. I was mentally exhausted from a lifetime of betrayal. There was no sadness. No anger. Nothing. I was spent and on life support.
On autopilot, I turned my head and looked at my mother. My aunt? She took a step toward me, and I shook my head, holding up both hands. The only person who’d been a constant fixture in my life was an imposter. A liar. It explained so much and so little at the same time, knowing she was my aunt and not my mother.
“I think . . . I think that’s enough sharin’ for one day. You can finish the story another time,” I muttered, remotely disconnected.
Sienna and Cali approached me cautiously as if I would bolt, their actions guarded. The room felt wired to explode like a single spark would raise the roof, obliterating the room. I lifted my eyes to my friends and saw the same pain reflected at me in their eyes. I knew if they uttered a single word of pity or remorse my direction, I would be the match that set the room alight.
“Wallflowers don’t have breakdowns,” I explained, my tone vacant, praying they would understand I needed their strength before I sank so deep in sorrow that I never resurfaced. “We just don’t.”
Sienna shook her head, understanding me as always. “No. We weather any storm and still look good doin’ it.”
That almost made me smile. We were Wallflowers who didn’t know a thing about fashion. We preferred jeans and T-shirts to haute couture.
I looked at Cali, tears coating my lashes until I couldn’t see. I was going to lose it soon if they didn’t help me. I needed a lifeline to hold onto before I fell off the edge of sanity into a black pit of despair. “Is this the part where I save myself from my messed-up life?”
My father called out, making me jump. I stepped away from the anguish I heard in his voice. He was trying to move past Bo and Devin to get to me, but they stepped in front of him, blocking his way when I shook my head for him to stay back.
So many lies. So much pain and heartache, for what? I heard my mother—my aunt—crying softly in a corner, but I couldn’t care at that moment.
“Cali?” I choked out in desperation, needing her answer. She was our leader and knew how to fix every Wallflower problem. “How exactly do I save myself this time?”
“You don’t,” a deep voice murmured in my ear. The hand I’d unconsciously grabbed hold of in panic let go, and then my feet left the ground as Nate lifted me up. Then we were moving toward the front door in a haze of anguish. “It’s time someone saved you for a change,” Nate growled, and I buried my head in his neck.
_______________
With each revelation about her father’s past, Nate watched Poppy react like she’d been struck. And with each hit, he stepped closer to her, ready to step in when the pain became too much. He didn’t know when it started, the deep-seated need to protect Poppy at all costs, but he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Couldn’t stand at a distance and disregard the overwhelming need to save her. Not when she reached out blindly for his hand and squeezed his fingers as if he were the only one who could take away the pain. With that one touch, she’d shattered some of the walls he’d erected to keep her at bay and reached inside his soul, carving a place inside his heart.
He was done then. Done watching the catastrophe that slowly robbed her light, so he bent at the waist and picked her up, determined to leave the fucking chaos behind and shelter her from the brewing storm. He could barely wrap his mind around the shit swirling around her, how could she expect to come to terms wit
h any of it?
He expected Poppy to struggle when he’d removed her from the room. But she turned blank eyes toward him as he lifted her into his arms, and that made his stomach clench and drop with rage. Since the moment he’d met her, she’d had her hackles up, spitting and clawing at anyone or anything that threatened her or her friends. But now she was despondent and silent.
“I don’t want my daughter leaving with that man,” Knox bit out. “He’s dangerous.”
Nate tightened his hold on Poppy at Knox’s incrimination, one he was used to after coming from the ghettos of Savannah. He had a temper after being bullied and abused by his father, which meant he had a rap sheet. One that said Nate put his father in the hospital at the age of sixteen after he attacked his mother.
“I know who and what I am,” Nate returned without inflection, his face blank. He wouldn’t let Knox stop him from doing what needed to be done. Poppy’s state of mind was more important than his dark past. He could keep a handle on his anger until the look of utter pain and disillusionment was stripped from her face.
At Knox’s words, the blank stare in Poppy’s eyes sparked to life. The kitten living inside her clawed to the surface, and she struggled until Nate lowered her to the floor. “I know more about him than I know about you,” she fired back in outrage. “I know he has his friends’ back without question. I know he would put his life on hold to help a stranger because he’s loyal to those who are loyal to him. He’s a man with principles, no matter what his past says about him . . . It’s more than I know about you, Dad.”
Christ, she’d defended him. Spit hellfire at her father after she’d stood broken, dying a little inside from all the lies surrounding her past, yet she’d found her metal to defend Nate without question. Warmth burned through his veins where only ice had lived before, chipping away a section of his wall. Nate’s past fed anger that lived just under his skin, fed a burning in his gut which never ceased. But the burn eased to a dull ache at Poppy’s defense of him, making it easier to breathe.
Curling his arm across the front of her shoulders, Nate pulled her into his body to keep her calm. She reached up without thought and curled her fingers around his arm, leaning into him as if he were her source of strength.
His heart thundered in his ears, drowning out damn near everything but Poppy’s voice. “Let’s go, baby. I’m takin’ you out of here,” he ordered softly in her ear. He wanted her away from her father, away from the pain before it took its toll.
It was clear Knox wouldn’t give up without a fight, wouldn’t put his daughter first, even now, because he continued to push her without regard for her emotional state.
“All you need to know about me is I’ve loved you since the day you were born,” he gritted out. “That walking away from you was the only way to keep you safe while I found a way to put that bastard behind bars.”
Poppy’s spine stiffened against Nate, and she began to shake. He drew her deeper into his body, whispering, “Come with me, Kitten. Now’s not the time for this.” But she wouldn’t budge when he tried to walk her backward.
“I grew up scared of the dark. Did you know that?” Poppy’s voice wobbled with emotion, and it tore away another chunk in his armor. Her father had apparently struck a nerve that ran as deep as the Grand Canyon. The Poppy he held tightly in his arms at that moment was the small child she’d once been, one who’d wanted nothing but her father’s love. “Scared I wasn’t worth lovin’ because the one man who should have taught me what love is, walked away. You didn’t protect me, Mr. Taylor, you destroyed me, bit by bit, each day you stayed away. I needed you present and accounted for, not off on some vendetta! I needed a father. My father. I needed you to slay the dragon who chased me in the dark, but your vengeance was more important than nurturing the only thing you had left of my mother.”
Knox’s head jerked back as if he’d been struck. Nate took satisfaction in seeing it and brushed a kiss against Poppy’s temple, proud of her strength.
Still clinging to Nate’s arm, Poppy turned and looked at her aunt. “Momma?” Shirley took a hesitant step forward, wringing her hands as she waited for Poppy to speak. “There was always a distance between us when I was growin’ up. I understand it now. But you were there for me if I really needed you. Please give me a few days, then I want to hear all about the woman who gave birth to me.”
Her aunt nodded, wiping at her eyes, then she glanced at Knox before saying, “I loved you your whole life, even if I couldn’t show it as well as I should have.”
Poppy nodded rapidly, swallowing hard before looking away. “I need to get out of here,” she whispered, turning her head so Nate could hear.
“I’ll take you.” He squeezed once for support before letting her go. She stepped out of his arms, and he immediately missed the feel of her warm, soft curves pressed against his. He had to stop himself from reaching out and curling his arm around her shoulders until he could drag her back to his side.
Poppy shook her head and turned to him. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m okay.”
His jaw locked in place at the cold distance in her expression. Her light had extinguished again, and that tore through him like a jagged knife. A battle began to brew inside him. He wanted to protect her from the world and be the one who restored the light in her eyes. But how? He was dangerous. A short fuse waiting to ignite.
Nate closed his eyes briefly until the raging war stabilized. Dead calm settled into his bones, replacing the indecision that had plagued him for two weeks.
Poppy was more important than his reservations.
Than his own deep-seated fears.
Sienna stepped past him and headed toward Poppy as she made her way outside, Calla bringing up the rear. He observed silently as the two sisters stared at each other, then smiled sadly and hugged. Calla stood to the side, waiting until they pulled apart, then they reached out and engulfed her in a Wallflower sandwich.
It was then all three of them began to cry.
He felt Devin at his side taking in the sight. “Fire and ice,” Nate stated to his friend. Devin turned his head and raised a brow. Nate jerked his head at the group of sobbing Wallflowers. “They burn brighter than most women, but when they freeze you out, it’s like fuckin’ Antarctica. It grips you in the heart and takes your breath away. Makes you want to destroy anyone or anything that takes that fire out of their eyes.”
Visions of the outbuilding he’d torn apart with his bare hands popped into his head. He’d wanted to destroy everything that stood in the way of finding Poppy. Nate realized that was the difference between him and his father. His father’s moods were like a pendulum, swinging back and forth between rage and elation at the drop of a hat. When he was up, he was so far up Nate could almost envision he was a good man. But when he was down, those around him paid. Nate was like his father, yet, at the same time, he wasn’t. He was possessive like his old man, but his need to protect—at all costs—what was his overrode all other emotions. And that’s what made him different. He’d suspected he was fundamentally different than his father, but he hadn’t wanted to test it. Not for anyone. Not until he’d met Poppy and she’d wagged her damn finger in his face, waking him up from a deep, dark sleep.
“You gonna slay her dragons?” Devin asked low. “Because I’ll repeat it if I need to. You are not your old man.”
Nate watched Poppy a moment longer, saw the defeat and wariness in her eyes. He still wanted to destroy everyone and everything that attempted to harm her. But instead of an uncontrollable need to do just that, he felt a controlled sense of peace that he’d get to slay the dragons that haunted her in the dark and put the light back in her eyes.
“Every. Fuckin’. One,” Nate vowed.
Devin turned to him and shook his head. “About fuckin’ time you saw things my way.”
Nate grunted. “Wasn’t you who convinced me. It was Poppy.”
Devin jerked his chin up with understanding. “Paralyzes you, doesn’t it?”
“What does?” Strawn asked, walking up alongside Nate.
“The simple thought of not havin’ her in your life. Of not being able to protect her before someone or something takes her away,” Devin stated, looking at Calla. “The possessive rage you feel when another man looks at what belongs to you.”
Strawn nodded in agreement. “I’d never felt true fear ‘til Sienna came along. She gives me a fuckin’ headache most days, but God help the man who tries to take away what’s mine.”
Nate looked at both men, smiling before stepping through the door. “Jesus. Fuckin’ headaches, possessive rages, and Wallflowers to boot?”
Strawn raised a brow in question. “You finally wake up?”
Nate looked over his shoulder at the three Wallflowers. “Wide-fuckin’-awake,” he answered, then headed straight for his woman. Any reservations he still held, about being his father’s son, paled in comparison to his need to heal what Poppy’s father had broken. And he’d do just that by giving her a healthy dose of what she needed most.
A man she could trust.
Two
I’M GONNA FIX THIS
RED FLAGS OF COLOR STREAKED ACROSS the sky, chasing away the ghosts that seemed to strangle me with their invisible hands. I took a deep breath to pull air into my lungs, hoping to clear my head while Cali and Sienna stood close by watching me.
“What happens now?” Sienna asked. I glanced at her and saw a line of uncertainty and concern masking her features.
“I don’t have a clue,” I admitted. “My whole life is a lie. Where do I even start?”
“One minute at a time,” Cali said with authority. “You take each day from here on out, one minute at a time until you’re on firmer footin’.” I considered her advice, nodding in agreement. She, of course, knew better than anyone how to get through heartbreak. She’d lost both her parents and her brother in a car accident when she was only a little girl.
Sienna wrapped an arm around me, and it hit me again that I had a sister. One I already loved and trusted. The knot in my chest, the one that seemed to choke me with each breath, eased briefly. I wasn’t alone in the world anymore.
