Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
FREAK
“Did my aunt contact you yesterday?” Ace asks, his voice animated. Glancing across at him, he’s bouncing excitedly in his seat.
Well, fuck. He’s broached the subject before I had a chance. “What the fuck were you thinking?” I growl. “You’re too fuckin’ young to submit your DNA to a database. Have you any idea how that can be used? You’re in the system now, kid.”
“I’m not going to murder anyone, and even if I did, I know how to hide the evidence.”
What the fuck? His unexpected comment has caught me off guard. Does he spend too much time at the clubhouse?
“Anyway, Dad, did my aunt contact you or not?”
His direct question has me answering truthfully.
“She fuckin’ turned up at the compound.” It’s one blessing that, though I can’t seem to clean up my speech around him, Ma’s managed to teach him that “adult” words shouldn’t come out of kids’ mouths.
One benefit of his tendency to take things literally.
“She did? What’s she like? She’s my mom’s twin.
Does she look like her?” He can’t seem to keep still, nor stop his words tumbling out so fast I can barely keep up with them.
“I can’t wait to meet her, but she said she needed to clear it with you first. When can I see her?
I never knew I had an aunt.” When I go to speak, I find he hasn’t yet finished.
“Dad, I know losing Mom hurt you, but I’d really like to know about her.
You’ve never told me anything, and neither has Nana. ”
Ma never met her, and as for me, how do I tell him he was conceived out of lust, not love?
That I had already started to regret getting involved with her when I learned he was on the way.
And, on top of the list of things he doesn’t need to know is that she tried to kill him.
If I hadn’t providentially walked into the house at that very moment, he wouldn’t be alive.
It wasn’t even that she’d been out of her mind due to a mental illness she had no control over.
She was to blame for not taking the fucking tablets the doctor had prescribed.
Last but not least, how could I tell him, in order to save his life, I’d killed his mom?
Without explaining all of that, how could I voice the suspicions I had about her twin – her not being who she said for a start, and for a firm second, that she was possibly suffering from the same mental illness?
Without voicing those truths, how could I justify not wanting them to have a relationship?
One benefit of him being how he is. Though in this case, it had come back to bite me in the ass - his taking things at face value.
When I’d previously copped out when he’d asked about his mother by saying I didn’t want to discuss her, he dropped the subject, and hadn’t again mentioned it.
Obviously, my feelings hadn’t prevented him from trying to find out for himself.
I could answer his question by saying Antoinette looks exactly like his mother, probably would if she were alive today, but the words stick in my throat.
Deep down, I’d rather he not know anything about his mom or my relationship with her.
It’s hardly anything to be proud of. How much would it fuck him up, to know his mom wanted him dead?
And that only serendipity had saved him.
I settle for what’s happening in the present. “I’m getting your so-called aunt checked out. I never knew your mom had a twin, so I’m being cautious. Until I find out all the facts, I don’t want you contacting her.”
“She’s my aunt.” Stubbornly, he crosses his arms over his chest. “DNA proves that. You can’t stop me from seeing her.”
“I’m your dad. And I can.” I slam my hands onto the steering wheel. “You must have lied about your age when you set up an account with that DNA database. What the fuck were you thinking?”
Oblivious to my rising anger, he replies calmly, “I know about the relatives on your side. Nana’s the only one still living. Neither she nor Grandpa had siblings. So I wanted to find out if Mom had.”
Don’t call her Mom, I want to snarl at him. She doesn’t deserve that title.
“I don’t understand why you’re…” he raises his hands and dips two of his fingers on each. “‘Checking her out’. DNA doesn’t lie, and we’re a match. She’s my aunt, however much you want to deny it.”
“You’re my son,” I counter. “I don’t know fuck all about her. She could be a serial killer for all I know. Until Pippa or Genie gets me more details, I don’t want you anywhere near her.” I know that look. It’s the one that says he’s going to do what he wants. “Give me your phone.”
“What?”
I hold out my hand. “Give it to me, right now, Ace.”
He mumbles something under his breath, then reaches into his jeans, pulls the device from his pocket, and hands it over. A sideways glance shows me there’s a smirk on his face.
“And I’ll be confiscating your computer equipment.”
“Dad!” His face fills with horror.
“I know you, Ace. I don’t want you making arrangements until I know the reason she’s here.”
“She’s here because I’m her nephew, her only living relative.” He all but snarls, “You can’t stop me from meeting her.”
His hands form fists, and he starts banging them against his legs rhythmically.
Oh fuck no. I pull the SUV over to the kerb and turn to him.
“Ace, you know better than this. Son, I’m not saying I’m not going to let you meet her.
I’m just saying not yet. We know fuck all about her except she’s got some of the same genetic markers as you.
” Of course, she could be a fraternal twin, but having seen her, I don’t hold much doubt that Josie and Antoinette came from the same egg, and that’s the part that worries me.
His mom tried to kill him. Would his aunt end up doing the same?
I can’t take that risk, however minuscule it might be.
His hands are still on the move, hitting his legs so hard I fear there’ll be bruises.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen him like this.
When he was younger, he’d retreat into himself when shit was outside his control.
I’d thought he’d grown out of the meltdowns that used to plague him, but he’s certainly heading for one now.
I’ve got to do something to try to stop it from developing.
Feeling like the shittiest dad in the world, I turn off the engine, glad to be parked on a quiet road.
It’s my fault he’s lost in his own world of pain.
But how the hell could I let him meet a stranger, when I don’t know why the fuck she wants anything to do with him?
If I wasn’t such a suspicious man, I might take things at face value.
But the life I lead, the role I play now, and the one that I had in the past, means I’m a suspicious fucker.
I question everything. It’s the difference between staying alive, being caught blindsided, and dying.
But by being as I am, I’ve fucked up Ace’s – to him – perfect plan.
Ace had tried to find details about his mother, and that’s on me.
I’ve never told him, never thought there was a good time to let him in on the nightmare that still haunts me, deciding to carry that burden for him as long as I can.
But Ace has a questioning mind, and the skills to find out anything he puts his intelligence to, without asking whether it’s right or wrong.
To him, it would have been simple. Use his DNA to see if he’s got relatives out in the world, then make contact with them. He hit the motherlode with Antoinette. And now, I’ve come between them.
“Ace, believe me, I promise I’ll find a way to make this right.
” Reaching over to the back seat, I grab hold of my cut, the hard-earned leather that’s part of me, and which I always treat with respect.
Placing it on his lap, I make a vow. “Ace, I swear on my patch, if everything checks out, you’ll be meeting Antoinette sooner rather than later.
But indulge me, yeah? Just let me make sure everything’s on the up and up. ”
Gradually, Ace’s fingers unclench, and he starts running his hands over my leather vest, tracing the shape of the patches on the front, then repeating the action, touching them in the same order, then replicating the sequence again and again.
Normally, I let no one touch my cut, not even my son. Today, Ace’s needs are greater than even my loyalty to the patch. He can do anything he wants with it, if that’s what it takes to stop him from having an actual meltdown.
I stay quiet, giving him time to process my words.
I can’t say how much time has passed before I hear the best sound in the world.
Ace tremulously questions, “Dad?”
“It’s okay,” I tell him, watching his face that’s gone pale. “You’re okay.” I raise a brow, turning my statement into a question. His slow nod is the sign that I need to start the engine, put the car in gear, and continue the journey to the clubhouse.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why aren’t I going back to Nana’s?”
“She’s got something on today. I agreed that you can come with me.
” That’s a lie, but Ma and I were both of the same mind.
If Antoinette came looking for him, it would be better for him to be at the clubhouse.
Not only for the protection my brothers and I could provide, but also to lessen the risk of Ma taking matters into her own hands and permanently getting rid of the problem.
Her guns aren’t for show, and she’s not scared to use them.
Sometimes I think Ma is better suited to being the club’s enforcer than I am.