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.”
What was supposed to come out kind comes out harsh. But it doesn’t matter. Resignation crosses Cannon’s face. Understanding fills the air without any need for words.
We’ll see where it goes.
I walk to the door and as I grab the brass door handle I turn around to him, hoping he can sense the sincerity in what I’m about to say. “Thank you.”
Thank you for loving my mother.
Thank you for making her happy.
Thank you for keeping me alive.
Thank you for helping kill the son of a bitch who took her from me.
A smile tugs at his lips. One so much like my own. “I’ll see you around then?”
“Yeah. Think you will.”
I shut the door behind me.
The darkness of the loft mirrors the mood I can’t shake. What a night. I trudge down the hall with soft steps in a half-assed attempt to not wake Ali. My mind’s elsewhere, stuck somewhere between learning the truth about my mother’s death and processing the idea of having an actual relationship with my father. Yeah, the MC President. Because that’s gonna work out awesome. I blow out a breath and run a hand through my hair. The closer I get to Ali’s room the louder the sound of the shower running becomes. My cloudy head clears and my brows furrow. Not because it’s got to be close to one a.m. but because I know what I’m in for when I step through the door. Regret lodges inside of me ready to strike my heart the second I see her. In the few hours I was gone she must have had another nightmare. Ali showering at all hours of the day and night isn’t something unusual. But it worries the fuck out of me on the bad nights. The nights of inconsolable crying, the gut wrenching screams when she’s asleep. The nights where she barely speaks and can’t handle me touching her. They happen, not to that extent every time but when they do it’s damn near unbearable to watch. And the worst part? I can’t always bring her back from it. Only she can. Most nights my arms around her is all it takes to calm her down. She tells me they guard her from her own thoughts. But tonight I left without telling her where I was going. I left her unguarded. I shrug off my shoes and clothes, eager to get to her. The steam from the shower greets me first. Ali’s soft curves peek through the glass and I can see her leaning against the wall, her head downcast. My hand reaches for the handle and