6
R eaching up, I carefully knock on the door.
The first house I went to, two houses down on the left of my old home, wasn’t Paul. In fact, it was a grumpy old woman who cursed at me and told me to get out of town and that she didn’t want me bringing bad spirits into their neighborhood. Clearly hating me as much as the rest of them, I got the hell out of there.
That only leaves this house – a worn-down little cottage with peeling white paint and an overgrown garden.
It’s sad, like the love has been sucked right out of this place.
Knocking again, I’ve just lowered my hand when the door opens, revealing a man possibly in his early fifties. He has soft brown hair and kind green eyes. He’s well built, but his body is slightly hunched, as if he’s tired. The moment our eyes meet, though, I know I’ve found the right person. I know because he jerks like he has seen a ghost, then a sadness washes over his features that runs deep.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I say quickly. “But are you Paul?”
His eyes dart behind me, then come back to mine. “How did you find me?”
I almost exhale with relief.
“I found this.”
I hand him the letter, and he doesn’t even need to open it to know what it is. His face scrunches in pain, and it rips my heart into pieces. This man is broken, broken because he was clearly in love with my mother.
“Can I come in?” I ask, softly.
He nods, stepping aside.
I enter his home, which is clean and tidy on the inside. He points to a small sofa, and I take a seat before he sits across from me, the letter held tight in his hand like he’s afraid to let it go.
“I heard you were back in town,” he murmurs, staring down at his hands a moment before finally looking up at me.
“Were you and my mother having an affair?”
I blurt the words, unable to help it.
Paul’s mouth tightens before he nods sharply.
“I’m sorry,” I go on. “I know this must be difficult, but I just ... I need answers. So many things feel wrong about my life, and I spent most of it thinking my mother died in an accident, only to find out her death was ruled as a suicide.”
“She didn’t kill herself,” Paul growls, his voice low. “She would have never left you willingly.”
My heart aches. “I’m starting to believe that, and I guess we both know who was behind her death, but I want to know why.”
“How much do you know about your father’s past?”
I shake my head. “Only the lies he told me.”
“It was dark. Your mother told me all about him. He was raised with a mother who was free with herself, so to speak. His father, who he believed was a good man, worked and did everything he could to provide for his family, only to have her constantly going around with other men behind his back. He knew about it, and, eventually, it got to be so much that he took his own life, leaving his kids with her. She couldn’t handle them, so she threw them into the system and never looked back.”
Oh.
I never knew that.
He always told me he had great parents who died of old age before I could meet them.
Is every single thing he told me a lie?
“So, when he found out about your mom and me ... Well, you can imagine how that went.”
My brain spins as I try to process what he is saying.
“Why did she cheat on him? Did he hurt her?”
Paul shakes his head. “As far as I know, he didn’t abuse her. But he was emotionally distant, cold at times and could be incredibly controlling. We met, and it was by complete chance that we grew a bond. She didn’t want to cheat on him, and she tried everything she could to make it stop, but we had a love that ... I can’t explain it. I know it was wrong, but I will never regret loving her.”
“He found out?”
Paul nods. “She was going to call it off with me. She said she had to try for her marriage, for you, and that she needed to be a good wife and do what she had promised. I was heartbroken, and I went out, drank a little too much and showed up at your house. He was at work, I knew he was, but he came home early and caught me there. Everything came out, and days after that, she was gone.”
My stomach twists, a sick feeling swimming in my chest.
It’s so hard for me to picture the man I grew up with being so cold that he killed his own wife within days of finding out she cheated.
“He was always so good to me,” I croak, pressing a hand to my chest. “I just ... I never saw that side to him.”
“Were you really looking?” Paul questions, carefully.
I snap my head up.
“I’m not trying to upset you, Mera. But you were a child, no doubt off in your own happy world, enjoying your friends and school. It’s very easy for parents to hide the depths of their problems from children.”
“Even after she was gone, he took care of me. Sure, he was never overly affectionate, but he took care of me.”
Paul looks sympathetic. “Because in his eyes, you are an innocent and he had a chance to make you into the kind of woman his mother and, according to him, your mother weren’t.”
A thought pops into my mind. “Do you think the women he killed were cheating on their husbands?”
Paul nods. “They were. Haven’t you read anything about his confessions?”
I stare down at my hands. “No, I haven’t looked at a single thing. I ran and never looked back, but I realized my life was on a constant spiral downward and I had to deal with all of this.”
“Do yourself a favor, read about it. You might learn some things.”
I make a note to do that.
Pushing to my feet, I offer a kind smile. “Thank you for talking to me, and for whatever it’s worth, thank you for loving my mother the way that you did.”
His eyes flash, and the emptiness inside him shines across his dull and worn-out face. Once, I have no doubt Paul was striking. It hurts to see that life has sent him down this path.
“She would be proud of you, Mera. You were her whole world.”
I force a smile, but the truth is, I have so little memory of her. Most of it my therapist has told me is probably trauma blocked, so I hope one day I get those memories back.
Turning, I walk to the door, but Paul stops me before I reach it. “That girl that went missing, it’s strange.”
I turn back toward him. “Someone has done it trying to make it look like it was me. I don’t know how they would assume I have her, when I have been freely walking around town living my life. It makes no sense.”
Paul shakes his head sadly. “Well, for whatever it’s worth, Mera, if I were you, I would find that girl and prove to every single person in this town that you aren’t him.”
I smile, sadly. “I shouldn’t have to prove that.”
“No, you shouldn’t, but this won’t leave until you do.”
That, he’s right about.
Can I do it, though? Find that girl?
Will it lead me to the kind of answers I don’t need?
RAISING A HAND TO OPEN the door leading into the office that Wolfe usually resides in, I pause when I hear the sounds of a woman moaning. I drop my hand quickly as the sound gets louder and louder.
“Fuck, yes, baby. Fuck me harder. Harder.”
Esme.
I’d know that voice anywhere.
Gritting my teeth, I can’t help the heat that rushes over my face. Something about knowing he is in there with her bothers me, but I can’t quite figure out why. Maybe I need to get laid. I’m a woman who has needs, and it is becoming apparent I have left it too long for those needs to be met. Considering I’m somewhat jealous of a biker and a girl who tormented me all through high school.
“Wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
Turning, I face a biker I haven’t met yet.
Just like the others, he is a fucking god, and I make a note to ask about the recruitment process for this club. Why are so many of them attractive enough to bring a woman to her knees?
This guy, though gorgeous, is a lot more rugged than most. His hair, shaved underneath with a long, messy knot on the top of his head, makes him look the part. He has the darkest brown eyes I have ever seen, a beard and a scar through his right eyebrow. His body is slightly leaner than the others, but he’s all muscle and well over six feet tall.
“I wasn’t planning on going in there,” I say, my eyes raking over him. “I’m Mera, I didn’t meet you last time I was here.”
He tips his head to the side, studying me. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Mera. Don’t often go for red heads but you’re somethin’ else.”
My cheeks flush. “Um, thank you?”
He grins, extending his hand. “Name is Zane, but you can call me Rogue.”
“Well, ah, Rogue, I am just here to talk to your President, but I can see he is otherwise engaged, so I’ll come back.”
I go to turn but the door to the office swings open and Wolfe steps out with Esme close behind him. I take them in, and that odd feeling washes over me once more. Am I obsessed with this biker? What the hell is wrong with me?
Esme looks perfect, of course. Her dark hair is messy and tied up loosely on the top of her head and her cheeks are rosy red making her look even prettier than she already is. She is wearing a tank and shorts. Wolfe, on the other hand, is wearing only a pair of jeans that are still unbuttoned, chains hanging off the sides. His hair is messy, and he has scratch marks on his chest.
Jesus.
“Kitten,” he murmurs, and Esme shoots him a look that he completely ignores.
I bite my lip, glancing at Zane and then back to Wolfe. “Could we talk?”
Wolfe nods, and glances at Esme. “Later.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but the look he gives her is enough for her to close that mouth and leave. Wolfe steps aside, letting me into his office where he just spent the last god knows how long fucking Esme. Exhaling, I walk in, because I have little other option. The moment Wolfe steps in, he closes the door and walks over to the sofa, sitting down and staring at me expectantly.
“I’m not sitting on that,” I point out. “I heard what was just happening in here.”
He pulls out a cigarette, and I want to knock it out of his hand for smoking inside, but I refrain, because it’s his room and all that. “She’s a screamer.”
Fuck me.
I hold my breath for a second, trying to get the image of them out of my mind.
“Good to know,” I say on an exhale. “I won’t keep you long. I want your help.”
His brows go up as he inhales the cigarette, leaning back and showing me that perfect body.
The ache between my legs has turned into a dull throb now, and I make a mental note to get that dealt with so I stop obsessing over this man once and for all. I just need a nice guy like Jace to come in and show me that a man like this isn’t worth my time. Yeah, that’s it. I will call him later and make everything up to him.
“You goin’ to tell me what you need or are you goin’ to keep eye fuckin’ me?”
I jerk. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Baby, I can see it in your face. You’re wonderin’ how it feels to be on my cock.”
The arrogance of this man.
“Don’t call me baby, and trust me, I’m not.”
He grins.
Just get on with it, Mera.
“I want to find the missing girl.”
He pushes up off the chair, his interest piqued. “What?”
“I didn’t stutter, biker. I want to find that girl, and I need your help doing it. This entire town thinks it was me, and I’m going to find her and prove to everyone here that it wasn’t. I need your help to do that.”
His eyes darken, flashing with something I don’t quite understand. “What part of stay out of this shit didn’t you get?”
“Listen, we can have the same conversation over and over, or you can decide if you are going to help me or not. Either way, I’m going to find her.”
“Some fuckin’ psycho probably has her, and you want to roll in and be a fuckin’ hero?”
“My father was a psycho, what can I say? I’m invested.”
My tone is laced with sarcasm.
“How do you think I can help you?”
“You know people, you can find out things nobody else can. This is clearly some attempt at a copycat killer, or even someone wanting to frame me. Either way, it’s a person that I have no doubt is well hidden, and I can’t find that person on my own.”
He tips his head to the side. “What’s in it for me?”
“Well, you’ve made it clear that sex is out of the picture, so I guess the only thing left is that I will promise to leave town if you help me.”
He grins. “So you don’t want to fuck me?”
“God, you’re arrogant. No, I do not, I’m just stating that sex isn’t on the table, considering it’s usually the first thing someone offers.”
He keeps the grin.
“Will you help me or not?”
“If you agree to get out of town and stay out once we find that girl, no matter if you have answers or not, then yeah, I’ll help you.”
I grit my teeth. I don’t want to leave without answers, but I also can’t do this alone. I need his help, so I’ll just have to make sure while we are finding the missing girl that I am getting as many answers as I can.
“Deal,” I mutter.
Pushing to his feet, he takes a step toward me and leans down close, his breath smells like cigarette and ... fucking Esme.
“Know this, Kitten. If you fuck me over, you’ll wish you hadn’t. A deal is a deal. You leave when we are done.”
I exhale. “Yeah, I got it. Trust me.”
He steps back, letting me get to my feet. I move to the door, but he calls out just as I reach it. Turning, I stare at him, my expression blank. I’m praying I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my life.
“Why are you so determined to get answers?”
I tip my head to the side, and our eyes don’t waver when I answer. “Because the man I grew up with was so different to the man who butchered those women. I need to know why, but mostly, I need to know if he killed my mother.”
“Think it’s pretty apparent he did.”
“Yeah, it is, but I still have a lot of questions, and I’m going to find the answers. I’m only just scratching the surface on his twisted life.”
“Why not go see him? Not like he’s far.”
I flinch.
I haven’t laid eyes on my father since the day he got arrested.
“I don’t know if I can look him in the eye.”
Wolfe studies me, then nods. “Be here tomorrow, seven am. We will start lookin’ for this girl.”
“Okay,” I say, before turning and leaving.
I either just made the biggest mistake of my life, or the best decision.
I haven’t figured out which it is yet.