Amaze (BLP Motorcycle Clubs #3)
Chapter 1
The hum of my bike as I tore down the highway was almost meditation. Whenever I was stressed or just needed to clear my head and think, I hopped on my bike and let it take me wherever it decided to lead me. Since I had a destination in mind, I couldn’t go too far off course, but I enjoyed the time and space to think. Riding was still and would always be one of my favorite pastimes next to making love.
A few short months ago, I had found and reunited with my deceased wife. My life’s mission had been to avenge her death over the past fifteen years. Now that she was back in the picture with a son I never knew I had, I was torn.
Part of me wanted to reunite with the woman I loved and pick up where we left off, but it wasn’t that simple. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew it was true. A large part of me knew Wesley would always be mine. The rest of me understood that I didn’t know her anymore.
Not only that, but I wasn’t sure that I deserved her after failing her so severely. The guilt of letting her down plagued me as much as the heartbreak and confusion I felt when trying to accept the fact that the love of my life still lived. As hard as it was, I had been giving her the time and space she needed to rebuild her life without the tyrant that she thought she married.
My baby had gone from her dictator father’s clutches to the prison built by the man who had controlled her every move for the past fifteen years. As much as I wanted to protect her, for a while, I had to ensure her safety from afar. I couldn’t be yet another man who thought she needed rescuing and controlling. Keeping that same dynamic would only lead to resentment in the future. I didn’t want that for us. Our love was built on connection and chemistry.
Wesley used to read all those sappy romance stories and swoon over the happily ever afters. She believed in fairy tales and true love. I wanted to give her that. I just didn’t know if I was capable of doing so. Over the years, I had become so hard-hearted that I didn’t know if I could love her the way she deserved to be loved. That didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to try.
Tears stung my eyes as I considered the time I had missed with my son. Years and milestones that would never be recovered haunted me when I let my mind wander. I worked hard to make up for lost time, but I wasn’t sure if there was such a thing as redemption when it came to something like not seeing your son grow up. No matter what, I wanted him to understand that I loved him with everything in me. He was part of me and so much like me that it was scary.
Looking at Anthony was equivalent to looking in the mirror. I talked to him on the phone every day and went to every single one of his games. I watched him from afar when it was necessary because I didn’t want to intrude on Wesley’s life. She was my wife, but after so much time had passed, I felt like we were strangers. My love for her never dwindled. My love for her was the sole reason for me keeping my distance.
I had been busying myself with doing the one thing I vowed to never do. I had taken over the Dirty Strykers. Wes’s decision to remain in the town where she and Galvin had been living disturbed me, but I refused to be yet another man telling her how to live her life.
My family was the reason that I had taken my dad’s position with the Strykers. I would be the first to admit that I was one hell of a man. I was a one-man army on a bad day, but even I couldn’t stand up against the entire organization.
Knowing that Zachariah was still out there was enough reason for me to pull out all of the stops to protect my wife and son. Her father was the most ruthless of them all when it came to our separation. Anyone who would risk killing their own damn child just to control them was not to be underestimated.
After he conspired to have me killed, then hid Wesley from me and made her think that I was dead, I knew he was capable of anything. I needed the backing and the blessing from the Strykers to break our truce with the Black Rider Gang. I didn’t give a fuck about the truce, honestly. Fuck the truce, if you asked me. I just didn’t want my retaliation to result in any hurt, harm, or danger coming to my family.
I pulled up to the university where I was a professor and parked in front of the history department. I had lectures that ran from ten to ten fifty, three days a week. For years, I had been leaning toward accepting a full-time position, but now that I was living three different lives, there was no use in me straddling the fence.
Between running the shop and the organization, I barely had time to check the discussion boards the university required the students to use. Every other weekend, I spent time with Anthony, just getting to know him. Despite being raised by a maniac, my son had turned out to be an amazing young man.
He had aspirations of going to the NBA, but his mom had been on him enough that he knew to put his education first. He was only fourteen, but I was already looking forward to touring colleges with him. There was healing in encouraging my son to pursue his education instead of trying to force him to aspire to run the business once I retired. I wanted him to be his own man. Wes had done a wonderful job raising him in spite of the circumstances. I was confident in whatever direction he chose for his life.
I was determined to make sure my son knew how much I loved him and valued his life choices. I could lead him in the right direction without making his decisions for him. For the first time in a long time, I felt confident about my future. I had a legacy to look forward to.
I would never turn my back on my son, no matter what. It was up to Wesley if she wanted to be with me for the long haul or if we would just co-parent. When the dust settled, our emotions were so raw I knew that the best thing to do was to give her space, whether I wanted to or not. Knowing that us not being together was a possibility was what kept me from running straight to her every chance I got. Being with my wife and son would make my life complete.
Even if I determined things wouldn’t work out between Wesley and me, life would go on. As hard as it was to grieve her loss, accepting that she was still here seemed even harder. I loved Wesley more than anything in the world. I would die for her. Although it would crush me, I loved her enough to let her go if that was what I had to do.