I opened my eyes to find Bear staring down at me. His sapphire blue pools hypnotizing me as he looked me over from head to toe. Maybe me and my woman parts weren’t the only one taking a trip down memory lane.
“Looking fancy over there, Mr. McAdams,” I said, with a low whistle. Bear was wearing something I hadn’t seen him wear before. His new cut, which was actually his old cut, because as he had said “took me for fucking ever to wear the leather in.” The patches over his right breast read PRESIDENT, THE LAWLESS, LOGAN’S BEACH, FLORIDA and their bright white color and lack of stains screamed of their newness, stiff with thick black embroidery.
“You ready, baby?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.
“Yeah, but first, this came for you.” I handed him the white envelope with no return address.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. It’s addressed to you. The Mail America guy dropped it off a few minutes ago. There was one for King too. I gave it to Ray. I didn’t open it. I don’t know what kind of old lady biker code you guys have against postal fraud. Besides, it could be anthrax.”
Bear looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for saving the anthrax for me, baby,” he said, planting a brief kiss on my lips. He sat at on the edge of the fire pit and tore open the envelope.
“I do what I can,” I said, brushing an invisible nothing off of my shoulder.
Bear unfolded what looked like a two-page letter of some sort and as he read his eyes shifted from narrow to wide. His lips moving silently as he read. He stood up, walked a few feet and then reached behind him. When his hand found a chair, he fell back into it, never taking his eyes from the letter.
“What?” I said, watching Bear’s reaction and wondering what impending doom was here to sweep away all of our newfound happiness.
“It’s a letter,” Bear said.
“Don’t make me junk punch you Captain Obvious. Who is it from?”
“It’s from…” Bear held up the pages. I stood up and snatched it. Resting his elbows on his thighs he dropped his head into his hands. “It’s from Grace.”
I scoffed, thinking that he was just joking until I began to read.
My Dearest Abel,
It’s time I told you a story, one I should have told you a long, long time ago.
As far as the world is concerned, they think Edmund and I couldn’t have children of our own because that is what we had lead everyone to believe, but that is only a partial truth. When people asked if we had children, we always said no. It was too painful to talk about then, and frankly, it’s still too painful to write this now, but I owe you the truth and the truth you shall have.
As you know, my mother was old-fashioned and had arranged my marriage to my Edmund with his mother on the very day I came screaming into the world. I didn’t care for him. I didn’t want to be married. Ever.
I wanted adventure.
So a long time ago, in another life, I got my adventure.
I became a hang-around at an MC and got sucked into club life. I was the equivalent to the Wolf Warriors what a BBB is to the Bastards.
Shocking I know, but if you can believe it, I was quite a looker back in my day.
Rebellious as hell too, although I don’t think that ever really went away. Age just has a funny way of tucking the rebellion in under loose and wrinkly skin.
I had a child, very early in life with Joker, VP of the Warriors.
A daughter.
We named her Sadie.
Joker was married at the time, and although he was never hateful, he never acknowledged Sadie as his own. I left the club life shortly before she was born, so I could raise her. I married Edmond after all, because I thought it was what was best for Sadie, and thankfully he agreed because although the beginning was rocky, we fell as madly in love as two people could possibly be.
But my girl, my Sadie, was a rebel from the word go, just like her mama.
By the time she turned fifteen, she was deep into drugs. The hard stuff. She’d run away at least once a month until the money ran out from whatever she’d stolen from us and sold.
One such time, she never came back. I tracked her down