Dark Guardian (Black Hoods MC #3) - Avelyn Paige Page 0,46

bad. And they’re screened by DFPS.”

“I had one good one, Mrs. Rosenburg. She was a retired school teacher. Her husband had passed away a couple of years before she’d taken me in. She was really nice. An excellent cook too.”

Though she’s right beside me, her voice may as well be a thousand miles away. “You don’t have to talk about this, darlin’.”

“No.” Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she meets my gaze. “Sorry. When I talk about that, I get so lost in the memories. Mrs. Rosenburg always had a batch of freshly baked cookies on the counter when I got home from school each day. But whenever I try to remember the good things, it’s always squashed by one other memory. I guess this time is no different.”

Digging her fingers into her knees, she takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “She had a heart attack while I was at school. I found her on the kitchen floor. The cookies were burning in the oven, and it was too late to save her.”

“Jesus.”

“It devastated me when I found her. I didn’t even care when they sent me off to another place—a group home that time.”

“You’ve had it rough.”

“I have, but others have had it far, far worse. I was lucky enough to come out okay in the end.”

I give her shoulder a playful shove. “Says you.”

Sticking out her tongue at me, she huffs, “Bite me, biker. Now it’s your turn. What’s your story?”

I groan. I hadn’t expected to spill my guts tonight. “I’m not that interesting.”

“Baloney. Tell me how Eugene Grant came to be such an incredible man and father figure.” She waves her hand around, indicating the rest of the common room. “Not just to those kids, either. These men look to you like a father too.”

I rarely share the details of my past. In fact, I’ve spoken my truth a grand total of two times in my life. This will be the third.

“It’s not pretty,” I warn her.

“Yeah, and mine was all sunshine and rainbows,” she quips. Her words are sarcastic, but she moves to place her hand in mine, somehow able to tell this is going to be hard on me.

“I married my high school sweetheart.” Her eyes widen. “It was no great love or anything. To be honest, I don’t even know why we got married in the first place. We cared about each other, spent a lot of time together. When we graduated high school, I was prospecting with the club, and she wanted to tie me to her forever.”

I note her disapproving frown, but I don’t stop. I need to get this out.

“It was stupid. We fought all the time. We had no money, and she was always off drinking with friends and getting her hair done.” Now the hard part. “And then she had Shane.”

Her body jolts, her mouth opening to speak, but I raise my hand to stop her.

“Just let me get this out,” I tell her. “Shane was the sweetest baby. When he came along, I vowed to work harder to save my marriage. I was going to be the best father in the entire world.”

“What happened?”

“He died.” Looking down, I examine my fingernails, not really seeing them. “I was just a prospect back then and was out on a run. When I came home…” I pause, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. The pain is as great today as it was nearly thirty years ago. “She’d already buried him, said she didn’t know how to get a hold of me.”

Gaping at me, she covers her mouth and whispers, “How did he pass away?”

I shrug. “SIDS. She never gave me an explanation other than that. I tried to find out where he was buried, but every time I asked, she would scream and rant at me about leaving them alone in the first place. She left a month later, and the last I heard, she’d died of an overdose, which wasn’t too long ago.”

Her mouth opens and closes, and she finally says, “Wow,” seeming at a loss for words.

“Yeah. Wow.”

We’re both silent for a few moments, which is strange in itself since everyone else in the room is drinking and laughing, and having a great time. But it’s like we’re alone here. In a bubble. A bubble of confessions, sadness, and acceptance.

Acceptance is a new one for me. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced acceptance.

Rubbing my hand, she says with sincerity, “I’m sorry about your son,