Chapter One
I stare at Fisher. His stormy grey eyes hold me captivated. Handsome as ever if not more so than the last time I laid eyes on him. His hair is clipped short. Practically buzzed to the scalp. New ink tatted on his neck. Dressed in the same clothes he wore the last day we were together like a ghost of the past who has reappeared in my life to haunt me. The man who destroyed me. The man I’ve mourned the loss of for three years. The taste of his betrayal is as fresh on my lips as the day it happened. The day I learned he’d been arrested. The day I discovered he’d been stepping out on me.
I have a million questions. The first one being did he murder April. The woman he fucked around with. The woman who was found dead today. The same day he shows up unannounced and definitely not locked up as he should be in prison. Did he escape? Why is he here?
“When the fuck did you get out?” Yara, my sister, repeats her question, and I’d love to know the answer to that myself. Only I’m more focused on the accident she mentioned the second she barged in.
My stomach does another pitch and bile hits the back of my throat with a bitter burn. Memories of the past opens the raw wound in my heart that never seems to heal no matter how hard I try. “You mentioned an accident,” I prompt.
“Can you give me a minute with my sister?” Yara snaps, shooting him a dirty look as she flips her blonde locks over her shoulder, throwing her full ‘don’t fuck with me attitude’ his way, then adding a hand to her hip that’s jutting out.
“Yeah. I’ll go out for a cigarette. Then we’ll pick up where we left off.” He pinches my chin then strolls out the door. I watch him go, wondering if he will disappear.
As soon as the door shuts, my sister’s arms are flailing and her lips are moving. Her hair bounces on her shoulders with every move like it too is pissed off on my behalf. “What the actual fuck? Are you shitting me? Why is he here? How is he here? Jesus. Are you okay?”
“To answer all of your questions, I don’t know. I don’t know how he got out or why he’s here. No, I take that back. I guess he’s here for me.”
“Do you want to see him? I mean, I’ll call Whiskey or our brothers and have them deal with him. Choice is yours.”
I shake my head. “You and I both know that they’d pat him on the back and welcome him home. I’ll talk to him and tell him he needs to stay at the clubhouse. Then I’m changing the damn locks first thing tomorrow. I’ll speak to maintenance. Anyway, what has you here all in a tizzy?”
She bites her lip and unshed tears glimmer in her eyes. “It’s um…Death.”
My heart drops to my feet. Chill bumps race up and down my arms. A cold, dreadful sensation settles in the pit of my stomach. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t have all the details but there was a wreck. He had his wife and kid with him. Everyone is at the hospital. It doesn’t look good.”
My bottom lip trembles. “He’s okay, right?” I think back to the last time I saw him when he dropped me at my car.
“I’m sure physically. They had to sedate him because he was going ape shit. Because they say his boy might not pull through. Belinda is in surgery.”
“I need to go to him.”
“Sis, I know you care about him, but her family is there. All the club brothers including our father. Now isn’t the time…it’s not about you.”
Her words as true as they are sock me right in the gut. His son needs him, and as badly as I despise the thought of her, so does his wife. Wrapping her arms around me, Yara hugs me tight. She rubs her nose against mine like she did as a kid. I would crawl into her bed when our parents were fighting, and she’d cuddle me close.
“I’ll keep you updated. Unless you want me to stay until that asshole leaves.”
“I can handle Fisher.” At least, I hope I can.
“I’ll call or text when I know more.”
I nod and she releases me as Fisher returns. Yara bumps his shoulder hard as they pass each other. I suck in a breath and exhale. I’ll deal with Fisher then I can process the rest. One crisis at a time.
“You can hang in the living room. I need to change.”
“Babe.” He strokes a knuckle along my jaw, and I pull away.
“Don’t.”
“Looks as if you’ve seen a ghost,” he mutters. “I know you believe the worst in me.”
“I’m tired. Maybe we can do this whole whatever this is tomorrow. It’s late.”
“Let’s go to bed then.”
He’s lost his mind.