Wreck & Ruin (Tarnished Angels Motorcycle Club Book 1)

Father.

Father?

I looked at Knight; everyone and everything around me disappeared as I gaped at the face of the man claiming my paternity.

“That isn’t possible,” I blurted out.

His expression was tight. “It’s possible. You look just like her.”

The air in my lungs whooshed out and I felt myself falling. Boxer was suddenly lifting me into his arms.

“What the fuck is going on out here?” came Colt’s angry voice.

I hadn’t even heard the shed door open, but then Colt was there. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see anyone, not wanting them to see me.

No one answered Colt.

“I’m not gonna ask the fucking question again. Why are you carrying my woman?”

“It was either catch her when she fainted,” Boxer drawled. “Or let her hit the ground.”

“Faint? She fainted? Why the fuck—”

“Brother,” Knight began.

I moaned. “I didn’t faint.”

“Here,” Boxer said, all but dumping me into Colt’s arms. “You need to go inside with her. Knight too. The rest of us are gonna stay out here and get wasted.”

“Why does Knight need to come inside?” Colt demanded.

“Ask her,” Boxer said and then strutted away.

Colt began to move, his strides long and sure. He was able to get the back screen door open with one hand and then he was walking to the living room. He set me down on the couch and then took a seat on the coffee table, facing me.

“You okay?” His callused hands reached out to touch my face.

My gaze darted to Knight who was standing over us.

My father was watching me with the man I shared a bed with.

I swallowed and nodded, batting Colt’s hands away.

“What is all this?” Colt demanded, looking at Knight.

“Your boy tackled me when he thought I put a move on Mia.”

“Move?” Colt’s voice was deadly.

“It’s not like that, Colt,” I said before Knight could defend himself. “I don’t know how to tell him—”

“Tell me what?”

“Knight says—he’s claiming—”

“I’m Mia’s father.”

Colt slowly stood up from the coffee table, his face dark with anger. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Knight shook his head. “It’s the truth.”

“Why should I believe you?” I asked.

“Your eyes…they turn down at the corners. Just like hers.”

My mother was beautiful, but she had looked sad even when she was smiling. Even in old photos of when she was very young.

“So you knew what my mother looked like,” I said. “That doesn’t mean anything. That doesn’t mean you’re my father.”

“You’re right. That’s not enough proof.” Knight wiped at the corner of his mouth, smearing the almost dried blood. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open and drew out a photograph.

I stared at his outstretched hand and with a labored sigh, grasped the photo. It was a picture of Knight with his arm around my mother. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen. Twenty at the oldest. She’d died young, in her twenties. Frozen in youth. I was older now than she was when she’d died.

In the picture, Mom was looking up at Knight like he hung the moon. He was staring at the camera, full of swagger and youthful arrogance. He was nearly clean-shaven, but he had stubble.

My mind was spinning out of control. How was this possible? What were the chances of this happening? That I was meeting the man who’d sired me. I remember asking my mother about my father but she had given me evasive answers when I was a child, never fully explaining something that perhaps at the time I wouldn’t have been able to grasp anyway. Maybe she’d been waiting to tell me everything until I was older.

But she died before she got the chance.

Grammie had been just as cryptic about my paternity. I wondered if it was because she never knew.

I looked at Colt, whose face was expressionless. He wasn’t going to intervene or stop this conversation from happening. And if it derailed like a train on the tracks, then so be it.

“Did you know about me?” I blurted out.

Knight’s eyes went from grim acceptance that I was going to reject him to flaring with hope. “No. God, know. I had no idea. I swear.”

I got up from the couch, setting aside the photo on the cushion.

“Where are you going?” Colt asked.

“I need a drink. If we’re going to talk about my mother, then I need a drink.”

“Why don’t you guys take the office,” Colt said. “You’ll have more privacy in there.”

Knight nodded. “Thanks, brother.”

Colt rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for what Boxer did. He’s taken to Mia like an older brother. He was just looking out for her.”

Knight smiled. “No apologies needed. I’m glad she found you. Found the Angels.” He held out his hand to Colt who took it immediately.

They shook hands but said no more. Colt led us to the office. “Bottle of bourbon in the file cabinet. Under Z.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you do in your office? Drink?”

He smiled.

I smiled.

Even Knight smiled.

And then I remembered that I’d just found out my absent father was the president of the Coeur d’Alene Blue Angels.

Before Colt headed for the door, he pulled me into his arms and brought his lips close to my ear. “You need me, you call for me. Otherwise, I’m letting you handle this.”

I nodded. “How’d it go with Sanchez?”

“Tell you about it later. You’ve got other things to worry about.” He kissed my lips, sent Knight a look, and then he was gone.

Knight waited to see what I’d do. I wanted distance from him, yet I also wanted him to spill everything he knew about my mother. The mother I hadn’t gotten nearly enough time with.

I took a seat in one of the office chairs, keeping my posture stiff, my body alert. Knight tapped his fingers against his jeans, clearly nervous. Though why he was nervous, I couldn’t imagine. He’d already dropped the bomb that he was my father.

“I always thought my father was older,” I said, breaking the tension. “I mean, when I allowed myself to think about him, I always thought of a man in his sixties. Gray hair, you know? A guy who wore khakis and a polo.”

“Must be a surprise to find that I don’t match your vision.” He looked out the window and stared for a moment. What could he see through the blinds? Was he wishing for an escape?

I got up from my chair and headed to the file cabinet. I opened the drawer all the way and pulled out the bottle of bourbon under the Z file.

I shook my head. “It’s not even a bourbon that begins with Z. Why not have it under the B file?” I threw him a smile, but his own lips didn’t waver in humor, though he was watching my every move. Almost like he was drinking in the years he’d missed, as if studying me would make up for lost time.

“Maybe we don’t talk about her just yet,” I voiced. “Maybe it’s too soon and we should just—I don’t know—try and talk like two normal people.”

“We aren’t normal though, are we? Thrown into this fuckery.”

I unscrewed the cap on the bourbon and took a sip before handing it to him. The liquor burned, but then warmed my insides, melting the ball of ice that had lodged itself in my throat since the moment Knight had shown me the photo of him and my mother.

He took a long drink and then sauntered over to the couch and sat down. He leaned back, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“I don’t know what to do here,” Knight said suddenly. “I want to hear it all. I want you to tell me all about you and how you grew up and if you were happy. I can’t believe this shit—that you somehow wound up in this life when all your mother wanted was to keep you out of it.” He frowned. “It’s why she left me. It’s why she didn’t tell me she got pregnant. It’s why she left Coeur d’Alene.”

“Did you know she went back to Waco?”

“Yeah.”

Thoughts swirled through my head. “How did you two meet?”

“She was waiting tables at a diner just outside town. I was newly patched in, looking to throw some swagger around.” He smiled in fond remembrance. “Your mother wasn’t impressed, but I wore her down enough and after a time she gave me a shot.”

“How?”

“I found out she liked boats. My buddy had a small speed boat and let me borrow it. I took her to a picnic on the other side of the lake and she started to fall for me. I was exciting to her. Something more than just waitressing and making ends meet. We were inseparable that summer. Except when I had club business. It was fine at first, but after a while, and a few times I came home with black eyes and blood on my shirt, she started to lose her cool. Said she wanted more out of life and a relationship than what I was giving her. We were both really young. Your mom had dreams, and that didn’t include being a biker’s woman. Her being left in the dark, wondering, waiting if shit was gonna go down, or if a brother would come to the door with bad news about me was too much for her.”

My breath hitched. I’d had the same thoughts when I realized what it meant to be with Colt.

“The night she left,” Knight said, his voice soft in the still air, “we had the worst fight of our entire relationship. She was pissed and hurt that I chose my brothers over her and what she considered a respectable life. She’d talked about her parents, not a lot, but a bit. I knew their background, the families they were a part of. But I didn’t really understand where Scarlett was coming from. This life—the club life—was all I’d ever known. Scarlett’s parents left Chicago, right? Neither one of them wanted to be involved with either of their families’ legacies. It was easy for Scarlett to choose something better because she’d had that example, you know? Her parents wanted her out of a life of crime. Me?” He shook his head. “My dad was club president. Mom was a club whore who didn’t care that my dad dicked around on her. I was twenty years old when I was patched in. Your mother was nineteen. We had no idea what life was gonna look like.”

He shrugged, like he was trying to shrug off the past and his regrets.

“So I let her go. That night, she asked me if I really loved her. Asked me if I loved her enough to let her go and be happy with someone who could give her what she wanted.” He dropped his head in sudden exhaustion. “I let her go. She took my heart with her—I never got it back. Made the two women after your mother miserable for it. Made the mistake of marrying one.”

“Are you married now?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nah. Divorced. Your mother was the love of my life.”

“Any,” I licked my suddenly dry lips, “any kids?”

“No. Just…you.”

Just me.

Knight talked of legacies. Was this mine? Born from criminals? My mother’s family on both sides belonged to notorious gangster families. And my father—Knight—was president of a biker club.

And now I’d taken up with Colt.

Mom had wanted something different for me. Something different for herself. So she’d left Knight and I’d grown up without a father. I’d grown up without a mother, too, and in some strange twist of fate that upbringing led me right back to a life with Colt.

“I came to Waco once,” he said quietly. “A few years after she left. Walked right into your grandparent’s store and there she was behind the counter. She looked the same as the last time I had seen her.” He shook his head. “No, that’s not really true. She looked…settled into her body. Lived in, you know? Like the few years apart from me had made her an adult or some shit. Though now I realize it might have been because she had become a mother. I don’t know.”

I nodded in understanding. “There’s something that happens in your twenties. Like you become sure of yourself in your body. I know what you mean.”

He smiled slightly. “Yeah, exactly.”

“What did she do? When she saw you?”

“Nothing. She just watched and waited.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to her. I knew begging her to come back wouldn’t do anything. I’d ridden over eighteen hundred miles on my bike just so I could see her and then turn around and leave again.”

I swallowed the emotion brewing in my throat. “Do you think—do you think it would’ve been different for all of us if you’d said something? Do you think she would’ve told you about me?”

“I don’t know, Mia. I’ve spent twenty-five years trying not to think about the past. All my fuck ups and great regrets, you know? Shit like that can kill a man.”

We fell silent and took a few minutes passing the bottle of bourbon back and forth.

“Did she ever get married? Do you have any siblings?” he asked suddenly.

“You didn’t keep tabs on her? Well, I guess that makes sense since you knew nothing about me.” My tone wasn’t bitter, just honest. “No, she never married and I don’t have any siblings. She died when I was five.”

“Scarlett died,” he stated.

I could hear the tension in his voice, the shock of learning that the woman he’d loved most of his life had passed.

“She drowned. Off the coast of Catalina. She was swimming, and a riptide…” I didn’t need to finish.

He made a slight noise, almost like a stifled wail, but it caught in the back of his throat.

I forced myself to finish the rest of the story. Only Shelly and Grammie knew it. I hadn’t even been able to bring myself to tell Colt. We had enough horrors to contend with. But I owed this to Knight.

“I saw it,” I murmured.

Knight’s eyes snapped to mine.

“I didn’t speak for two years.”

He leaned forward, his face earnest. “Tell me about your life. Tell me everything.”

I talked to my father long into the night. Not once was there a knock on the door interrupting us. Questions turned into stories. Stories that made my childhood vivid.

He winced when I recounted when I was eight and fell out of a tree, breaking my arm. He laughed when I told him when I was ten I tackled a schoolyard bully.

“What about you?” I asked finally sometime around two in the morning. “I’ve told you about me. What about you?”

“Not much to tell,” he said quietly. “I have a small house on the lake. Spend my time working on my bike when I’m not dealing with club business.”

It sounded like a lonely existence to me, but who was I to judge? I couldn’t tell his age since his face was hiding behind his beard and the sun had weathered his skin.

“How old are you?” I asked suddenly.

“Forty-six.”

“Forty-six,” I repeated. “You were twenty-one when I was born. That’s so young.”

Mom had been twenty. I couldn’t imagine having a baby that young. I couldn’t imagine having to scrape it all together. Thank God for Grammie who’d been there through it all.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what my life would’ve looked like if Knight had been in it. Would we have lived on the lake? Would we have spent Saturday mornings on a boat? Would my mother still be alive?

The questions were exhausting and the bourbon was causing my eyelids to droop.

“You should hit the sack,” Knight said. “You look exhausted.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah.” He nodded but made no move to stand up.

I forced myself to rise and then I went for the door.

“Does he make you happy?” he asked suddenly. “I know I’ve got no right to ask. I’m your father, but I’m not your dad. But I still want to know…”

I smiled and turned my head to look at him over my shoulder. “Yeah. He makes me happy.”

I left him sitting alone, pondering everything we’d discussed.

He was right, though. He wasn’t my dad. A dad picked you up when you scraped your knees. A dad checked in your closet for monsters. A dad threatened to kill any boy who broke your heart.

I might’ve shared DNA with Knight, but that didn’t make him family.

Colt was propped up in bed, shirtless, the lamp on the bedside table casting a warm glow across his golden skin. Seeing my name in ink settled me in a way I couldn’t explain. It was like Colt’s arms were around me, giving me silent, solid comfort.

He looked up from his phone. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I shut the door and then padded my way over to the bed, falling face first on top of the comforter.

“Long night?”

“Long night with bourbon.”

He chuckled.

“I have a father,” I murmured.

He paused and then said, “Yeah.”

“Still trying to wrap my mind around that.”

Colt lifted his arm so I could scoot closer to him. I pressed my nose into his side and took a moment to breathe him in, needing the solid assurance that he was there.

“What happened with your call to Sanchez?” I asked, my eyes drifting shut.

“He’s agreed to help us. Not without a steep price though. His shit is already being distributed through the Southwest. He hasn’t claimed Waco, but he is now. He also wants his product in the Heartland of the United States.”

“So we’re trading one cartel for another?”

“Yes, but there’s one major difference,” Colt said, his hand finding a way under my shirt. “Sanchez is on our side.”

“The devil you know, I guess.”

I wanted to ask more questions but with the comfort of the man I loved next to me in bed and the flow of potent bourbon in my veins, I fell asleep.

By the following morning, news that Knight was my father had already rippled through the clubhouse. Boxer publicly apologized for punching Knight in the face. Knight graciously accepted Boxer’s apology and slapped him on the back.

The Blue Angels—Waco and Coeur d’Alene—had all gone to the shed for church, no doubt to discuss the Sanchez situation and what do about the product sitting unguarded in the storage unit.

The kids were still asleep downstairs in the theater room, but I knew it would only be a matter of time before they were awake and demanding food like angry baby birds.

The remains of last night’s party were minimal. The bonfire had burned out hours ago, and all the beer bottles and plastic cups had been tossed into two huge garbage cans.

The girls and I were out back at one of the picnic tables, enjoying the morning air. Rachel sat across from me and was on her second cup of coffee. Darcy perched next to her, staring into the distance. Joni was by my side, close enough that I had to pretend not to see the whisker burns on her neck. Allison had returned from throwing up her guts due to morning sickness. She stood at the edge of the table, nibbling on a cracker.

“This is just so weird,” Rachel said. “I can’t believe Knight is your dad.”

“I know,” I said with a nod.

“How are you feeling about it?” Darcy asked.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “He’s young. Which is blowing my mind. He’s not who I pictured when I thought of who my dad might be.”

“He’s also kind of hot,” Rachel said. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

“You would go there, wouldn’t you?” Joni said with a laugh. “What did you guys talk about?”

“Everything. My mom. How they met.” I frowned.

“What’s that face for?” Darcy asked.

“I just—I feel like he knows me, a little bit anyway. I told him about my childhood and growing up with Grammie. But I don’t feel like, I don’t—know him. He wasn’t really forthcoming about his life and what it looks like.”

“Do you want to know all those things?” Joni’s gaze was curious. “I mean, it’s one thing for your long lost dad to show up. Here, of all places. And a Blue Angel, too. Which, wow, coincidence much? But it’s another thing for you to actually want to get to know him.”

“And you won’t get to know him in one night, you know?” Darcy added. “That takes time.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “That’s true.”

“He’s still a stranger,” Allison said, swallowing the rest of her cracker. “Just because you share blood doesn’t mean you automatically have trust and a relationship.”

“And this adds a whole new layer of family ties to the Blue Angels,” Darcy remarked. “Think about it. The Coeur d’Alene chapter was willing to help the Waco chapter because they consider each other family. But now Knight’s daughter is the Old Lady of the president of the Waco Blue Angels. It’s all meshed and intertwined.”

“Blood allies,” Rachel added with a nod. “Yeah.”

The shed door opened and the Blue Angels poured out. They all looked alert and ready for the unknown despite the fact that we’d all gone to bed late and woken up early.

Darcy immediately hopped up from her seat and went to Gray, wrapping her arms around him. I loved seeing them show each other affection. Torque came to Allison’s side immediately and whispered something in her ear. She sidled up to him and pressed her head to his chest and closed her eyes.

Reap sauntered up behind Rachel, set a hand on her shoulder, and stole her coffee. She didn’t even bother fighting him over it.

I pretended not to see Zip giving Joni a long, lingering look.

“What’s for breakfast?” Boxer asked, breaking the tension filled silence.

“Whatever you’re cooking,” Darcy said.

“Ah, come on,” Boxer whined. “I’m hungry.”

The back door to the clubhouse opened and Lily ran out, clutching her blanket, her eyes sleepy. She encircled Darcy’s legs with her spindly arms before looking to her father. Gray scooped her up, causing her to giggle.

A gesture so simple it reminded me that I’d never had that growing up. I caught Knight looking at me, his face schooled into a blank expression.

I placed my hands on the table and stood up. “I’ll make pancakes. But I need help.” I looked at Lily. “You want to help?”

She nodded eagerly, scrambling to get down from Gray’s arms.

By day three of the lockdown, everyone in the clubhouse was at each other’s throats. Kids squabbled, couples bickered, and I had to pretend that I didn’t see Joni and Zip sneaking off to be with one another. The inactivity had everyone on edge.

Colt and I hadn’t spent a lot of time together since he was constantly talking to Knight, Mateo Sanchez, or Flynn Campbell.

The fourth morning of the lockdown, I finally broke my silence. “You have to let everyone out of here.” I pulled on a pair of jeans and went to the dresser and grabbed a Blue Angels tank top they sold in the garage. It was soft, faded cotton and it felt like wearing pajamas.

Colt lounged from his spot in the bed, one arm underneath his head, eyes heavy-lidded as he watched me get dressed. “Why?”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this,” I said with a wry grin, “but I’m pretty sure there’s going to be a death or two—gladiator style—and soon. The tension in this place is at an all-time high.”

“Huh. I haven’t noticed.”

“Liar. What’s been happening with the Iron Horsemen?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Nothing. Dev has been silent. No blood on the streets. That doesn’t mean it won’t happen,” he said.

“You’re being overly cautious.”

“That’s my job. I have to look out for you and the club. Until I know for sure when Sanchez will send men to move the product, I don’t want our people on the streets.”

“And when do you think Sanchez will be sending men?”

“Soon.”

“That’s not good enough,” I snapped.

“What’s this really about?”

“I’m stuck in here unable to live my life. That’s what this is about.”

“You don’t think this has something to do with Knight?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please.”

He shrugged.

“It has nothing to do with Knight.”

“So you say. Have you talked to him since the night you found out he’s your father?”

“Been kinda hard to.” I wasn’t actively avoiding the man, nor was I really seeking him out. There were always people around, and furthermore, what was I supposed to say to him?

A shouting match started up just outside our closed bedroom door, followed by a thump and another thump. The sound of yelling migrated down the hallway. A door slammed shut and then nothing.

I looked at Colt and raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think that was?”

“Reap and Rachel, if I had to guess.”

A rapid succession of knocks sounded on our bedroom door and then, “You two better be decent!”

“He’s talking to you,” I said. “I’m fully clothed.”

“Not by my choice,” Colt muttered as he quickly reached for a pair of jeans. He didn’t bother with a shirt, but headed for the bedroom door after he’d gotten his jeans buttoned.

Zip strode in. “Call the lockdown off.”

“Oh good, maybe you can talk some sense into him,” I said to Zip. “He won’t listen to me.”

I left the two of them to duke it out and went into the living room, wondering if I could pick at some of the breakfast leftovers. Meals had been on a rotation schedule, but we were all tired of cooking for the masses.

“Where are the kids?” I asked Darcy, who sat at the kitchen counter.

“Video game show down,” she said. “I hate sticking them in front of the TV, but sometimes it’s the only thing to do.”

“They need to be running around after a Frisbee or soccer ball,” Gray muttered from his spot on the couch.

The living room was fully occupied, but I didn’t see Knight or Bishop, his VP, who I’d yet to really talk to. I’d caught him side-ways glancing at me, though. I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of Knight’s long lost daughter.

I scraped together the last of the eggs and bacon, poured myself a cup of coffee, and stood at the counter to eat.

“Did you talk to Colt?” she asked.

“About letting us out of here? Yeah. He didn’t really want to hear it.”

“The charity sale for the elementary school is this weekend. I promised Laura we’d be at the park to help her.”

I hadn’t seen the woman who’d brought me a bunch of clothes in a few weeks. Nor had I given her a check for a donation like I’d wanted to, either.

“I feel so cut off from the world right now,” I said.

“Yeah, I feel you.”

“I haven’t even called Shelly,” I admitted. “To tell her about, well, everything.”

No matter how much I tried to keep her in the fold, she wasn’t part of the Blue Angel family, and therefore would always be on the outskirts. She should’ve been the first person I talked to when I found out about Knight. But we were on lockdown and Rachel, Darcy, Joni, and Allison were here so I’d turned to them.

“This is fucking ridiculous!” came Zip’s roar.

“I’ve a right to be concerned!” Colt yelled back.

All movement and conversation stilled as the fight down the hall unfolded.

“Concerned, yes. But this is fucking ridiculous. We need to be able to live our lives.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Get the boys. We’ll fucking vote on it,” Colt bellowed.

The Blue Angels didn’t need to be gotten since they could hear everything that was going down between Colt and Zip. With a sigh, Gray stood up and headed out back. Boxer, Reap, Torque and the others followed suit.

I finished breakfast, tossed the paper plate in the trash, and then headed back to our bedroom. I was sorting our dirty laundry when Colt filled the doorway, his face dark with annoyance.

“Vote didn’t go your way, did it?” I asked.

“Democracy’s a democracy,” Colt said, but his voice was filled with anger. “Why are people so shortsighted?”

I nudged the door closed so we could speak in private. “I think because people make most of their decisions emotionally.”

“Yeah.” He shoved a pair of dirty boxers into the bag. “You’re right about that.”

“They’re right, too, though. Can’t live your life in fear, waiting for something to go wrong.”

He let out a sardonic laugh. “That’s just it. I know things are gonna go wrong. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Hell of an outlook on life, Colt.”

“You disagree with me? You? Based on what you’ve lived through the last few weeks?”

“Sure, life is one shit storm after another,” I agreed. “But look what it can bring. I’ve got you. I’ve got the girls. New family.”

“Knight.”

“He’s not my family,” I protested.

“We haven’t gotten a chance to talk about it the last few days, have we,” he murmured. “Sorry for that, babe. Sounds like you can use an ear.”

“I could use my own bed,” I stated.

“Yeah?” He slowly came toward me, backing me up until I hit a wall. “What do you want to do in that bed?”

I grinned. “Sleep for hours without being awakened by screaming children or fighting couples.”

“Everyone is clearing out except for the Coeur d’Alene brothers. I don’t want to take you home—not while all this shit with Dev and the cartel is still a loose end.”

I sighed and reached up to wrap my arms around his neck. “I know you couldn’t control the outcome of the vote and everyone is taking their families home. But if you want to stay, if it’ll make you feel better, then I won’t fight you on this.”

He leaned down and captured my lips with his. “Thank you.”