A Little Bit Wicked - Melissa Foster Page 0,43

Beckett. When she finally wrapped her head around it all, she said, “I had no idea there was so much to being a Dark Knight, or that it was that much a part of who you are. I had heard about the club doing good things for the community, but everything you just said makes the members sound like an army of really good men.”

“They are. That’s exactly what I’m saying. And that’s not to say we’re special or anything like that. We’re just people who want to help others.”

“That makes you special, Justin. I always knew you were a good person, but I didn’t give you credit for how good. I didn’t have all those pieces to understand why you did the things you did. As I said, my past clouded my clarity.”

“Some judgments are harder to let go of than others.”

She turned so they were facing each other and sat cross-legged between his legs. “I don’t know much about your family, and that leaves room for guessing.”

“Then let’s take the guesswork out of the equation. You and I have a lot in common, Chloe. I always knew we would, but I never knew why. I just had this feeling the whole time I’ve known you that we were meant to be together. Now I understand. Your mother was more interested in men than in parenting, and my father was more interested in stealing than in being a father.”

“Rob is a thief?”

“No. Rob and Reba are my adoptive parents, and they’re two of the best people I know. They saved me from myself. My real father is in prison.”

“Okay, whoa. Way to drop an info bomb on me. I had no idea you were adopted, but that’s not important. Prison? For how long? Do you ever see him? What about your mother?”

“My mother committed suicide when I was seven.” His voice was low and tinged with sadness.

Her heart broke for him. “Oh, Justin. I’m so sorry. That must have been devastating. Do you remember her?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “I don’t know how much of what I remember is real and how much is what I want to believe she was like. I have a picture of her.” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and withdrew an old cracked and frayed photograph. He looked at it, and his lips curved into a warm smile. He handed it to her and said, “Her name was Mary.”

Chloe looked at the young dark-haired woman. She was pretty, with delicate features, a slightly pointy chin, and an upturned nose. She had the same blue eyes and full lips as Justin, but her eyes brimmed with sadness. Chloe felt like she’d seen her face before, but she had a feeling it was because Justin looked so much like her. She handed him the picture and said, “She was beautiful. You look a lot like her.”

“Thanks.” He looked at the picture for a long time before finally putting it back in his wallet.

“What was she like?”

“She was sweet, timid, kind. I think she had a pretty voice. I remember her singing to me at night. I know she loved me, but she just wasn’t strong enough to deal with our lives.”

“Because your father was in prison?”

“No. Because my father knocked her around. I don’t have a lot of memories of their relationship, but the one thing I’ll never forget was hearing him tell her that if she left him, he’d kill us both. I’m sure that’s why she didn’t try to run away with me. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.”

“That’s terrible.” She scooted closer, tucking her legs under his.

“It was. It is. My father didn’t go to prison until years after she was gone. He pretty much treated me like your mother treated you. I was lucky if he remembered to buy food for me to eat.” His brow wrinkled. “You sure you want to hear this?”

“Yes. I’ve spent enough time misjudging you and going out with guys who I just ended up comparing to you. I want to know who you are, Justin—the good, the bad, what you’ve been through. All of you.”

He nodded solemnly and said, “After my mother died, I was terrified that my father would kill me since my mother had chosen to leave us, or that he’d start knocking me around now that she was gone. And I was just a kid. I missed her like crazy. She was the only person who loved me,

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