Chapter 20
TWENTY
FREYA
The second she walked out of the hallway and into the light, my world froze.
Images of the picture I had in my wallet bombarded my mind, but they were nothing compared to actually seeing her.
My gosh, she was gorgeous. Her body was shaped like mine.
Her hair was the same color as mine. She didn’t have my eyes, but she had my eye shape.
Her facial features were softer, but the length of her neck resembled mine.
The broad shoulders. The small dip in the waist. The truncated legs that made us look even shorter than we really were.
I flipped the recliner down and stood up, her eyes connecting with mine.
The voices of the guys fell into the background.
Everything ceased to exist. My heart slammed against my chest as I took a few steps forward, emerging just beyond Bronx’s form.
I knew Stone was scared. Protective of who he loved.
And I could respect that. I did respect it.
And as I grew closer to Hayley, I saw more and more of my mother within her.
Like the way her cupid’s bow was a little sharper than normal. Or the way she had those natural dark circles underneath her eyes. Or the way her eyebrows were naturally shaped. I mean, her fucking hairline screamed of my mother. The small widow’s peak that made her face almost look like a heart.
“Hayley, you should go back into the room,” Stone murmured.
“Please don’t leave,” I said breathlessly.
Hayley’s eyes connected with mine as I stood there halfway between her and Bronx. I ran my eyes over her, taking her in. She was beautiful. Hell, she even stood like me. With one hip always cocked out.
“Who are you?” Hayley asked.
“You really need to get back into the bedroom,” Stone said.
“Let me explain. Let me meet her, please? She deserves answers just as much as I do,” I said.
I looked over at Stone and watched his eyes burn a hole into my face.
At least, he tried. I looked back at Bronx and saw him eyeing the guys around the room, his entire body tense.
He was ready for a fight. A brawl of sorts.
My eyes panned back over to Stone as the two stared off, each silently begging the other to back down.
“Who is this woman?” Hayley asked.
I closed the distance between us and stuck out my hand. I held it there, waiting for her to take it. She looked over at Stone, and I followed her gaze, watching as the man let his eyes wander to me one last time.
“You really do look like her,” he murmured.
“So, I’m not the only one that thinks she looks like me,” Hayley said.
“No. You’re not,” Bronx said.
“Please shake my hand so I can introduce myself,” I said.
She looked back at me with those striking blue eyes and took my hand. She had a firm grip. A commanding one. One that was very well-suited to the future wife of a club president. I grinned as I shook her hand, but then she released my grasp a bit too quickly for my liking.
Hopefully, my half-sister wouldn’t hate me for what I was about to do.
“Now, who are you?” Hayley asked.
I drew in a deep breath and settled myself in for yet another chaotic ride.
“My name is Freya. I grew up in Yuma, Arizona. My father is the president of the Celtic Riders motorcycle club there. And I’m your sister,” I said.
The entire room fell silent as Hayley’s brow furrowed.
I let her eyes dance around me as she took a small step forward.
Away from Stone’s side and up to my face.
Her hand came up and she ran her fingers through my wild hair.
Her fingertips grazed my cheek before she ran them over my nose.
My lips. My neck. There wasn’t as much shock in her face as I would have expected. If anything, there was relief.
“My sister,” she whispered.
“Yes. Half-sister. We have the same mother,” I said.
“How is—how is that possible?”
“To have the same mother?”
She nodded softly. “My mother is supposed to be dead.”
My hand came up, and I wrapped it softly around her wrist. I closed my eyes, knowing damn good and well I was about to destroy this young woman’s world.
Dead. That’s the lie her father fed her.
I turned around and searched for my purse and saw Bronx holding it out for me.
I walked over to it and plucked it from his hands, taking it to sit on the kitchen table.
I rummaged around in my purse until I found my phone.
Then, I turned it on airplane mode before flipping through my gallery of pictures.
I came across my most recent photo of my mother before I held it up to her face.
“This woman?” I asked.
Hayley’s eyes lined with tears almost immediately. She ripped my phone from my hands and looked down at it in disbelief. I watched her as her hand smoothed over my phone. I watched as her fingertips danced over the picture of her mother. My mother.
Our mother.
“Your mother’s name is Rose?” Hayley asked.
I nodded softly. “Yes. Rose.”
“And uh, and when was this picture taken?”
“Hayley,” Stone warned.
I held my hand up to the man and shot him a warning glance.
He wasn’t in control of this situation any longer, and I wasn’t going to let him keep his fucking fiancée in the dark.
I heard someone snicker. One of the guys.
But I didn’t bother to discern who it was.
I walked over and stood in front of Hayley, waiting until her eyes came up to meet mine.
“When was this taken?” she asked.
I sighed. “A little under two months ago. At my college graduation.”
When the phone fell out of Hayley’s hand, I was there to catch it.
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and her fiancé came to stand behind her.
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her shoulder.
Her neck. Her cheeks. I saw the pain in her eyes.
The absolute aching pain that came with realizing someone she loved had been lying to her for so long.
I sniffled myself as I slid my phone into my back pocket, trying to give her the space she needed while gathering my thoughts.
Because I knew she was about to bombard me with questions.
“How—why—she’s—my mother, she’s—”
“I will answer whatever you want. Whatever questions in whatever order. Just, take this time. Breathe for me, okay?” I asked.
A hand came down onto my shoulder. A comforting hand with a grip I recognized.
I leaned my cheek against the top of Bronx’s hand, waiting for Hayley to dry her tears.
Her sobs broke my heart. The way she cried reminded me of how someone would cry if they were watching their world being torn apart.
I closed my eyes and bowed my head, sucking back my own tears so as to not detract from her a second longer.
Then, she cleared her throat.
“My mother’s alive,” she said softly.
I lifted my eyes and locked them with hers.
“Yes. She is,” I said.
“So, my father was lying when he said she was killed by some guy on a motorcycle.”
“Yes, he was.”
“How did your parents meet? I mean, how did our mother and your father meet?” she asked.
“They met here. In San Diego. The Celtic Riders used to dominate the area. My father never told me why they left. But when he became president—”
“Your father is the president of another club?” she asked.
I nodded. “He is. Has been my entire life.”
I watched recognition waft over Hayley’s features.
“That’s why,” she whispered.
“Why what?” I asked.
“It’s a long story, but that’s why my father has it out so badly for motorcycle crews,” she said.
“I don’t know what that means,” I said.
“I do. And it’s the missing piece we’ve needed,” Bronx said.
“I’m not following,” I said.
“It makes all the sense in the world,” Stone said.
“Your mother left Hayley’s father for your father. Didn’t he, Freya?” Texas asked.
My eyes flickered over to the large man standing off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest.
“All I know is they met in San Diego and my mother left with my father. They were still seeing one another at the time, and once they got settled into Yuma, my father proposed to my—our—mother in front of the entire crew one night,” I said.
“Holy shit,” Hayley whispered.
“I’m lost again. What’s this about a missing piece to what?” I asked.
“It’s a long story,” Notch murmured.
“Well, you think maybe it’s one you should clue me in on?” I asked.
“So, my mother’s alive. Like, right now. In Yuma, Arizona. Married and living a life with your father. The president of the Celtic Riders?” Hayley asked.
But before I could confirm her statements, a knock came at the clubhouse door.
Stone immediately drew his gun, and Bronx pushed me toward the hallway.
Someone took my hand, and I looked down to see Hayley’s hand slipped into mine.
I looked up at her as she tugged me toward the hallway.
Then, Bronx and Notch barricaded themselves in front of us with guns drawn and their entire bodies on high alert.
“What’s happening?” I whispered.
“Just hang tight. Okay? And I promise you, I’ll tell you all you have to know once whatever this is, is over,” Hayley murmured.
Then, the two of us turned our eyes back to Stone as he slowly made his way for the door, with Texas standing in the shadowed corner I’d taken up initially with nothing but the barrel of his gun gleaming in the light of the setting sun.