“Jesus Christ! Where's your mother now?”
“She's... safe. Brett's death was ruled self-defence, so she didn't serve any time in prison or anything. But it messed her up.” She shrugs again. “A few weeks ago, she told me the truth about you guys not being dead. I was so angry. I had grieved for you both for so long, then she just drops it on me that she lied.
“I asked her why, and she told me that she couldn't deal with your way of life, so she left. I yelled at her because she'd told me that a hundred times before, she didn't want your way of life, it killed you and her son, but she never ever stopped being with bikers. That's when she told me that she just didn't love you anymore. That she was scared you'd take me away from her if she told you that she wanted out.
“I asked her why she really left Tate behind, and she told me that it was already too late for him. He was already your mini-me, and she knew should she take him from you that you would never have stopped hunting us. She told me that you didn't give enough of a damn about me to come looking.”
“That is not fuckin' true! Nova,” Shepard steps in front of her, “I searched for you for years. I had the best damn men in the country looking for you, but there was never any trace.”
“Mom took me out of the country. We lived in and around France for five years. Then she brought me back. I guess she figured you would have given up looking for us by then. Although we never stopped moving around.”
“How do we know this isn't just some bullshit story? How do we know that you haven't been sent here by...”
“You have a small six shaped birthmark just above your right wrist.” Jett turns his arm over and stares down at what we both know is there. “You have the same one.” She points to Shepard who nods in agreement. “So do I.” She all but whispers while lifting the sleeve of her jacket to her elbow, showing Shepard the mark. “Mom used to tell me how we three had the same mark. That Tate and I were your musketeers. The three of us bonded in a special way. It's me, Daddy. Your Nova.”
He cups her face and brushes the tears from her cheeks. “I never thought...” He stops himself and just pulls her into his arms, holding her close to him. I'm not an emotional man, I have no emotions at all if I'm honest. But I can't imagine what Shepard went through losing his daughter like that. And I can see Jett is finding this a little hard to get his head around. “My little princess. I never gave up hope that I'd one day find you.”
“I found you, Dad.”
“Lynette was right. She told me when I left the house this mornin' that something special was about to happen. And here you are.”
“Here I am.” He holds her tighter. I guess this really is little Nova Jackson. And I just had to feel that damn connection with the fuckin' Prez's daughter. Great!
He holds me close to him for a few moments, my father. I'm not going to pretend I ever had any ill feelings toward him because I didn't. I thought he was dead until my mother told me he wasn't. He didn't walk out on me, he wanted me as much as he wanted my brother. I was stolen from him. He did nothing wrong and I won't punish him for something he didn't do.
It feels good to finally be here. After all these months of searching, I have finally found my father and my big brother. Who doesn't seem to be happy to see me. I thought he would be, happy to see me, I mean. I remember how much he loved me when we were kids.
Right now, as I look at him, all I see is a man who hates me. I know that has a lot to do with our mother and the fact she abandoned him. If only he knew he got the better end of the deal. Living with Celia was no picnic, everything was about her.
Okay, she made sure I was fed and clothed, always had a roof over my head, even if it was some hotel or motel room. Even a friend's couch when she'd run out of money, or when she was off with one of her dangerous men.
But did she allow anyone to hurt me?
No.
Did she tell me that she loved me?
Once in a while.
I don't want to make her sound like a bad mom, but sometimes, I would wish she could have been better. I wish we could have stayed in one place more than two weeks.
I also wish I'd never wished for that because as soon as she met Brett, or Butch as he went by, we did stay in one place. We had a small two-bedroom house. It belonged to Butch and he made damn sure my mother didn't forget it. Not that she cared. She did everything he told her to, even spoke to his whores with grace. How on this earth she could do that with a straight face was beyond me. Because if that were me, I would have killed the bitches for daring to so much as look at my man. Him? I'd have cut his dick off and shoved it down his own throat!
But Celia wasn't as strong as I am. She never even tried to be. She was a doormat. It was as simple as that.
Whenever I called her out on the way she allowed Butch to treat her, she would do nothing but say, “Oh, Anna, stop whining. We have a nice place to live and a man who takes care of us. Can't you be a little more grateful?” Of course, I would say nothing. Butch was not a good man in any sense of the word.
Of course, after my mother shot and killed him, she shot off, left me and never looked back. When I managed to find her months later, she told me that she was terrified of what his club would do to get back at her. The death threats were unreal. She wanted to keep me from all of that to protect me. By leaving me in the line of fire? Bitch!
A member of Butch's MC, Shank, his son, grabbed me one afternoon, I knew it could possibly be the end of my life. But he didn't kill me, he just took great pleasure in... Never mind, that stuff doesn't matter now. All that matters is the fact I've finally found my father after months of searching.
You'd be surprised how hard it can be to track down a man that hasn't gone by his given name in over thirty years. Even harder when you knew nothing about him. I guess it would have been a lot easier if I hadn't been so down this past year or so. A lot has happened to me. I've done a lot of bad things in retaliation. I've left behind the child I have tried so hard to forget. The child I will never forget. But I had my reasons for it.
My dad and I have spent a little while talking in private. It was needed. I needed to know things about his life, he asked me about mine. There are many things I could never tell him, things no one can know. But it was just so nice to speak with him and smile while doing it.
My father has now brought me into the clubhouses main room. He wants to introduce me to the rest of the guys, just in case one of them tries anything with me without knowing who I am. If they hit on me while knowing I'm the daughter of Shepard, the Prez, then he'll kill them. Literally. Thing is, I believed him when he said that. Although I had to hide my amusement. I've been in his life five minutes and he's already doing the overprotective father thing.
Strangely, it feels nice. No one has ever been protective of me before. I used to dream of my dad being this way, making sure I was safe, keeping men away from me. Not literally but making sure only a good man stole my heart.
Not that any of these men will ever have my heart.
I must admit, there are so many men here. Almost all of the club. At least thirty of them. That's not a lot for a charter this big, believe me. Or maybe it is. After all, they get spread out and sent all over the country.
My dad told me that they usually have quite a few girls here but tonight he's banned them all from being here. They're not needed tonight. The place really isn't what I expected. It looks like one of those posh country clubs I've seen in magazines. The main room has a lot of tables dotted around the room, a huge bar with many bottles of spirits on show beneath a huge mirror. There's a large, plush couch beside an even bigger open fire, which is surrounded by a beautifully carved mantle. I don't know how many rooms are in this place altogether, I've seen the office and the main room, but I imagine with this many bikers there are a few bedrooms.
What I've seen of the inside is amazing, then there are the grounds outside, which right now is littered with motorcycles of all kinds is just amazing. So much green beyond the clubhouse. L
ike I said before, it's like a rich man's home.
The men here are huge, and I do mean Huge! Each one is giving me the eye, but I think the fact I have my arm looped through my father's is what's keeping them at bay. Not that I think they'll hurt me – try to – in any way. I've been assured by my father that any man belonging to this club touches a woman without her permission will be punished for doing so. Criminals with morals when it comes to the sexual rights of a woman?
I almost choked on my own laughter.
My dad need not worry about me, bikers are so not my thing. And the god’s honest truth is, if one of them even thinks about touching me, I'll end them.
But that one guy, Tank. Damn, he's hot. He's well over six-feet tall, probably six-four, broad shoulders, huge biceps, a trim waist and thick thighs. His long, light brown hair is tied up in a man bun. What I wouldn't give to slid my fingers into that and pull while he's fucking me. And then there's his face. Shit me, he's handsome. Those big brown eyes of his, that chiselled jawline, and perfect smile... Head out of the gutter, Nova.
Hey, I said none of them would have my heart, never said I wouldn't give one of them my pussy for the night. Tank anyway.
The loud bang of the gavel makes me jump. I look at my brother and chuckle. He doesn't. He just raises his eyebrow at me. How am I meant to make him understand that I'm not here to cause trouble? I wish I knew how to get through to him.
But it's only the first day, right?
“I know y'all are wondering why I've called you here this evening.” My father says. There are some mutters amongst the men before they fall silent again. “I want y'all to meet the new young lady in my life.” I love my father's accent. It's so different from mine. Mine is a little muddled from moving around so much, but my father's is southern through and through.