Chapter Six
Brody
Daisy rubs my shoulders as we watch our son scarf down bites of pancake.
“This is such a huge fucking responsibility,” I tell her.
“It is.” She squeezes a little harder. “Rachel trusted you, Brody. She knows you’ll make the right decision, whatever that is, but you don’t need to worry about it right now. Just go and see what you find.”
“You’re right. No use guessing what this is all about. I should just head over there and see what I find.”
My wife takes my son from his highchair and follows me out the door. She always walks me all the way to my bike whenever I leave. I love her for it. She makes me feel special.
“Be safe,” she tells me after I kiss them both goodbye.
“I will.”
Once I get on the open road, I take a deep breath. God, I love riding. It never gets old.
Before I left, I searched for the address Rachel gave me on my map, and it was way out in the foothills near a small town.
Basically, it’s in the middle of nowhere.
I’ve heard a bunch of eccentric artists live up there.
I’ve never had a reason to go that way, but at least it’s not far. Maybe an hour or so from home.
When I arrive, I realize that if I would have blinked, I would have missed it. There are a few businesses on a two-block stretch, and that’s it. Where the fuck are all of the houses? I sit at the intersection, noticing a few rooftops scattered in the distance between the treetops.
Evidently, the residents around here like their space.
The address I’m looking for is still another couple of miles farther up. My GPS leads me to a driveway, but there’s a gate blocking the entrance.
I pull up and park my bike. The gate is locked, and there’s a no trespassing sign but …
fuck it. I shove my gun in the back of my pants and hop the fence.
I’m not leaving here without some fucking answers.
Rachel’s letter was vague at best. It was a lot of I know you’ll do what’s best for Jackson … yadda yadda yadda.
As I’m walking up the driveway, I get the distinct feeling I’m being watched. I’ll admit it creeps me out a bit, but I’m no pussy, so I keep fucking walking. About a mile up, I spot a small cabin surrounded by the craziest fence I’ve ever seen. The place is giving off some serious witchy vibes.
I squat in front of it, chuckling to myself when I notice a tiny wooden gate that matches the larger one I’m about to go through. It’s a fairy door. I only know this because Willow has them hidden everywhere on the farm.
Fuck, this had to take someone forever to build. It goes all the way around … I stand to see just how far back it goes when I’m faced with the end of a double-barreled shotgun.
“Whoa there, little missy,” I say, putting my hands in the air.
A woman with loosely braided hair stares at me over the top of her weapon. “Didn’t you see the sign at the front gate? Don’t you know what no trespassing means?” she asks.
My gaze slides over her face, stopping on a little heart-shaped birthmark on her right cheek. It’s just like Aspen’s. That’s weird. It’s so distinct. As if it sums up their whole personality. Speaking of weird, a strange feeling is settling low in my gut, and I’m not sure I like it.
It’s just like Aspen’s!
“Oh! Oh, fuck no!” I begin hopping around despite the gun that is still pointed at me. “Oh Jesus Christ, Rachel.” My hands grip my hair, pulling at it.
“Rachel?” The woman stops, and then she hurries out of the gate and spins me around, pressing her hand against the patch on my back. “You’re a Skull?”
“Yeah, I’m a Skull. And you’re Jackson’s birth mom.”
She stumbles, falling to the ground. She starts to crawl away from me. “No. Please tell me he’s okay. Oh my god!” She begins to cry uncontrollably.
Oh shit. She thinks I’m here to tell her he’s dead.
“Hey.” I drop to one knee and hold my hand out to her. “Jackson is fine. He’s just fine.”
She stares at my hand but doesn’t take it. “Then why are you here?”
I shake my head and chuckle. “Well, I really don’t know.”
We stare at each other, and slowly her face begins to relax. Wow, she’s a very attractive woman. I turn away because fuck, this is my best friend’s mom.
“You’re his friend,” she whispers.
I nod still not looking at her.
“Why are you here?” she repeats.
“Again, I don’t know.”
She jumps to her feet. “Oh … oh you can’t tell him.”
The panic in her voice breaks my heart. She leaves the shotgun on the ground and hurries toward the house. The woman is so stunned by my arrival that she enters without closing the door behind her.
Slowly, I pick up the gun. I tip my head and glance at the clouds. “Woman, you better be securing me a place up there, because fuck …” I shake my head and step through the gate.
I find her dumping cash in the middle of a table. She rushes to another drawer, pulling it out. Another wad of money is tossed on the pile.
“I’ll give you everything I have, just please don’t tell him.” She pauses and covers her face with her hands.
I walk up behind her cautiously. “Jenny, I’m not here to cause problems. Let’s just talk.”
Her head shoots up at the sound of her name. “Jackson’s really okay?”
“He’s probably at home right now chasing Aspen around.”
“Aspen?”
My heart falls fast. She doesn’t know she has a granddaughter. I take her hand and pull her over to her couch, then I go back to her kitchen to get her a glass of water.
“Here.” I place it in her shaking hands, then lower myself beside her. “I apologize for startling you the way I did,” I say.
She sucks in a deep breath. “Is it … is Raffe okay?”
I drop my head, shaking it. Fuck. This is fucked up. So fucked up.
“Please tell me why it is you’re here,” she pleads.
Her gaze bounces over my face, and she begins to pull herself together when she realizes I’m as clueless as she is.
“You’re as surprised to see me as I am you,” she deduces quietly.
I take a breath and nod. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever been as surprised as I am right now.”
“Okay then, we can figure this out.” Her entire demeanor shifts as she accepts what is happening.
We’re in the same boat. “I’m sorry about my reaction.
I worry every single day that I’m going to get bad news about Jackson.
I hadn’t prepared myself for anything else.
” She laughs lightly, rubbing her temple.
When I remain quiet, she runs her eyes over me again. “You’re Brody.”
My eyes shoot to my hairline, and she laughs. Her voice is as unique as she is.
“How do you know my name? Did Rachel tell you about me?”
She rubs her hand over her chest. “No.”
Okay, I’m so fucking lost here. Has she been spying on us?
“It looks like we have a lot to talk about. Would you like a cup of tea?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. She stands from the couch, and her skirt billows around her bare ankles as she makes her way to the kitchen.
She really is the definition of barefoot and beautiful.
Jesus, this is crazy. I’m having tea with Jackson’s birth mother … his angel mom.
I glance around. You know, this is exactly how I pictured her when we’d talk about her. Except all of this was in Heaven, not the foothills of Nevada.
She’s already asked me not to tell him. How the hell am I going to do that? He’s my best friend, my brother.
The little cabin is filled with handmade items. Just like the fence. Did she do all of this by herself? The home looks solid. I stand up to inspect the handiwork. No way did she do all of this herself. Maybe she bought the place.
Her gaze follows me as I move around the room. “Do you like to work with your hands?”
I glance down at my palms. At all of the blisters and callouses I’ve accumulated over the past year while adding on to my grandmother’s house. It wasn’t nearly big enough for the family I suddenly found myself with.
“I do.”
“Did Bill teach you?”
My heart completely stops, and I turn to look at her.
“The house was already built, but it needed a little work. Bill helped me,” she admits, pulling her shoulders to her ears. She smiles nervously as she takes in the space she calls home.
I fall back onto the couch. “I feel like somebody slipped shrooms into my fucking coffee this morning.”
She laughs. “I have some, if you’d think they might help.”
The look on her face tells me she’s not joking.
“Nature is the best medicine cabinet.” She sets a cup and saucer in front of me and then goes back to the kitchen, returning with a tin filled with cookies.
Now she’s talking. She just found the key to my heart. I take a bite and close my eyes. “These taste just like Grandma Maggie’s chocolate chip cookies.”
When I open my eyes, I instantly regret my words.
“I’ve tried to get it right over the years. This is as close as I’ve come.” Her head tips to the side, and she takes a deep breath. “Is my …” She chokes on her words.
“Maggie’s fine, too.”
Jenny releases the breath she’s been holding and looks away, blinking rapidly.
“Listen, I’m just going to give it to you straight, so you don’t have to keep torturing yourself. Rachel passed away, and I recently received a letter from her. It was given to me by someone in the club.”
“But she’s been gone so long …” Her words trail off.
“You knew?”
Her gaze bounces around the room frantically, like she’s looking for a way out.
Well, I hate to tell her there isn’t one.
This is something I have to get to the bottom of.
I can’t overlook finding my best friend’s birth mother alive.
He’s spent most of his entire life loving a dead woman. This is all a little fucked up.
I lean over to get her attention. “The woman who gave me the letter told me Rachel instructed her to wait two years.” I shake my head. “The letter was vague. It just said she trusted me to do right by Jackson, and it included directions here.”
“Have you been looking after Jackson?”
It makes me smile, but it’s kind of sad at the same time. “Jackson’s an adult. I mean, of course we look out for each other, but …” I shake my head a little confused by her question.
“He’s my baby.”
“Yeah, but have you seen him lately? He’s got a beard. If you can call it that.” I laugh at my own joke, but she doesn’t.
“No. I haven’t seen him since …” Her face falls, and sadness washes over her. “I haven’t seen him since Bill’s funeral. He was just a teenager.”
I lean back against her couch. Fuck, this is so nuts. I was at the funeral, and I sure didn’t see her there. No one did.
The ceiling catches my attention, and I chuckle to myself while admiring all the little gold stars painted there. Jenny would definitely get along with Willow. I rub my hand over my head. What a predicament I find myself in.
“I’m good at hiding,” she jokes quietly.
“Yeah. That’s an understatement.”
She rests against the cushions beside me. “What do we do now?”
I roll my head to look at her. “Well, I don’t know, but I think I better call my wife and tell her this is going to take a little longer than I thought.”
Her sigh almost breaks my heart. She knows her entire world is about to change. “Okay,” she agrees reluctantly.
I take her hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you just start from the beginning?”