Chapter 18
Jules
Three weeks have gone by since taking the pregnancy tests.
I wanted to toss them someplace where Flint wouldn’t find them.
When push came to shove, I couldn’t let them go.
Instead, I threw out the packaging, sealed the three test strips into a small zipper bag, and put them beneath everything in my purse.
Flint would never search through my purse.
That bought me a little time to plan out the proper time and place to broach the conversation.
I’ve spent the past three weeks at the clubhouse, after everything that happened, Flint thought it was too risky for me to be at the gun shop. However, everything has been peaceful.
We’re still waiting on the results of the blood sample in the sedan’s trunk, but Jasper spoke to the lab the other day and we should get them this week. Detective Morgan says the crime lab is still backed up, so it’s a good job we decided to take matters into our own hands.
Tessa is noticing that I don’t drink alcohol anymore.
I caught her and Queenie with their heads together, whispering the other day.
I think they’re onto me. They’ve not said anything to me yet, and I know they wouldn’t go behind my back and ask Flint.
I want to tell him, to think that his baby is growing inside me is wonderful.
But I can’t help but be scared of his reaction.
We’ve only been together for a short while.
What if he says it’s too soon? What if he doesn’t want this?
I know in my heart of hearts that he’d be a great father, and he’s always been the responsible type.
But still… I’m trying to find the right moment, except while all this is hanging over us seems like the worst moment in the world.
On the relationship front, I’m still wearing his property cut, and not only is everything golden with us, but I’ve also decided that he’s a demon in the sack.
He does things to my body that would make a wild animal blush.
We go places and do things, so it’s not all sex morning, noon, and night.
But I’m not turning it down when it’s offered.
Sometimes, I even help myself to some, much to Flint’s delight.
This morning, Onyx and Jinx come through the main room, looking around until they see us. I set my coffee down and whisper to Flint, “We’ve got company.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Flint’s expression turns hopeful. “Please tell me we got those fuckin’ DNA tests back. I’m about to go stir crazy waiting for them.”
Onyx slides into the seat across from Flint, and a smiling Jinx takes the remaining seat.
Onyx replies, “Yep. And you’ll never believe the story. It’s like something out of a fucking soap.” Pulling out his laptop, he angles it so we can both see the screen. He looks at me and asks, “So you thought it was your friend’s father, right?”
I nod. “Mr. Allen. The man looked so much like him I would have put money on it. Though they say everyone has a double.”
“Try a twin,” Onyx says.
“A what?” I sit upright and try and look at what he’s showing me on the screen.
“Turns out your Mr. Allen has a secret sibling.” Onyx starts scrolling through the ancestry website.
“I don’t remember my friend Lauren ever talking about uncles.”
“I’m not sure if he knows he has a twin. We got the DNA test back with a twin sibling match. It was performed four months ago.”
“It was around three months ago when I saw the abduction,” I tell him.
“That makes even more sense when you see who the match is,” Onyx adds.
Onyx turns the laptop. The screen shows the relative-finder page of the account they set up. The match at the top is Robert Allen, Pasadena, California, parent, child, or identical sibling. My friend’s dad.
Onyx scrolls down, and the match below it shows the same tier and same percentage but a different name. Daniel Terrance. Long Beach, California. Last time active: ninety-two days ago.
“That,” Onyx says, “is the man in the trunk. His last name is the same as the mobsters who sent those assholes to our town looking for you and Flint. He submitted a DNA sample a month before you saw him get abducted.”
“But if he’s their adopted son, why would they take him?” I ask.
My hands start to shake so badly that I have to set my coffee aside. This is proof that I wasn’t wrong about what I saw. Daniel Terrance is Mr. Allen’s identical twin.
“Let’s go through it from start to finish,” Flint tells them. “I want to understand all the fuckin’ details before I decide how to proceed.”
Onyx points at Robert’s line. “Robert took his kit six years ago. It’s likely that someone bought it for him as a Christmas gift because he took it the first week of January. He mailed it in, got his ancestry breakdown a few weeks later, logged in once to look at it, and never came back.”
“How in the hell do you know that?” Flint demands.
“Striker managed to hack into Mr. Allen’s account by using his social media to look for password clues.
It’s a combination of his daughter and wife’s names.
That’s how we pulled the information. The information Mr. Allen never saw because he never logged back into the system.
The relative finder page only activated when Daniel submitted his sample.
Before that, there was nothing to match. ”
“And the brother, this Daniel Terrance? He took the test four months ago, right?”
“Yes. It was a different lab but the same database. Several of the big labs cross-reference results.”
“I guess he got one as a gift too. Maybe by someone who knew about the adoption.”
Onyx shakes his head at Flint. “Once we had his name, I asked Striker to dig up everything he could on Daniel. I think he bought it himself. Daniel caught a bullet eight months back. He’s got a rare blood type, B-negative, and the medical center was out of it. They had to get some airlifted in.”
I ask before thinking, “Why didn’t his family donate…” I trail off when I realize if he was adopted, others in his adoptive family might not have that blood type, particularly if it’s rare. When I snap my mouth closed, Flint reaches across the table to take my hands in his.
Onyx states, “Daniel probably asked himself the same thing. All we know is that a few months later he bought a kit, mailed in the swab, and four weeks later he had Robert Allen’s name and city sitting at the top of his match list.”
Glancing at the screen, which shows Robert’s image, I know all the way down to my bones that Daniel took one look at his twin and did his best to get to him.
“Why didn’t Daniel just message him in the system like you’re supposed to?” I’m full of questions this morning.
“Daniel did reach out to Robert.” Onyx pulls up another image. “Striker found this in the message section when he was snooping for intel.” The message is short. Onyx reads the short message out loud.
“My name is Daniel Terrance. I am fifty-eight years old, and I live in Long Beach. I recently took a DNA test, and it genetically matched me to you. I believe we are biologically related, possibly twin brothers. If you’re willing to speak to me, my phone number is below.”
I stammer, “Robert never opened it.”
Flint’s hand closes tighter around mine. “We’re gonna figure this out. Remember, I promised we would, and now we’re one step closer.”
I glance up to find him looking at me intently. “You’re right. This is exactly the kind of break we needed.”
“We got an address for Daniel?” Flint asks without taking his eyes off me.
“Striker pulled the registration data from the website. He listed a home address instead of a PO box. It’s a small apartment in Long Beach.
It looks like he’s been there for nine years.
I had some guys from our LA chapter ride past his house.
They talked to the building manager. He’s been getting mail returned because his box at the complex is full.
Nobody’s seen him for a while, but his rent is still comin’ out of his account through an automatic draft he set up. ”
Jinx gives his opinion. “Well, maybe his adoptive family took him back to their parents’ house. Or some other type of safe house they use. They’re a fuckin’ crime family after all.”
Flint states quietly, “There may be something in the apartment that tells us where they took him.”
“No way,” Onyx says. “The last fuckin’ thing we need is a breaking and entering charge in LA. Striker is workin’ on tracing all the Terrance family holdings, including real estate. He promises me that he’ll have everything by tomorrow morning, even the property they own through shell companies.”
“Then we rest up and plan to tear outta here in the morning, right?”
“Yeah,” Onyx responds. “That’s the best move.”
I speak up. “I want to go with you. I want to help find him.”
“Absolutely not, Jules.”
I bring my hand up to tap against my chest. “I’m the one he reached out to in the dark that night. The one he pleaded with for help. I want my face to be the first thing he sees, so he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s rescued. I need to do this, Flint.”
Onyx and Jinx are both quiet. I know they agree with Flint that taking me is a bad idea. Maybe it is, but I have the right to make decisions for myself, and I think Flint gets that.
“Darlin’, please don’t do this.” I can tell by the look in his eyes that Flint would rather gnaw off his own hand than take me to LA with him.
But part of me believes that it’s more than showing up for the man who reached out for me.
It’s proving to Flint that I’m an adult who can make good decisions and hold my own in a crisis.
I can do this, and I need him to see that.
Finally, Jasper’s voice comes from behind us. “She’s right, brother.”
“What the fuck?” Flint responds as his club president walks up to the table.
“She’s right, Flint. This man ain’t gonna see four rescuers when we break down that door. No matter where we find him, he’s gonna see four men wearing one percent cuts and assume it’s another complication.”
“I don’t want her in danger,” Flint grounds out.
“She can ride in one of the trucks. She’ll be covered and not get out of the truck until we’re sure it’s safe. She’s wearing your cut, brother. Ain’t nobody with any sense gonna mess with her. She won’t be out of our sight for a second.”
Flint closes his eyes and tilts his head back for a long moment. Finally, he looks back down at me. “Fine, but I don’t want you to leave my side. And don’t take your property vest off for anything.”
“I’ll do exactly as you say,” I promise. I know how overprotective he is and how hard this must be for him.
He tells me, “See that you do.”
Relief surges through my body that he’s listening to me, respecting my choices, and not just letting his protective instincts run wild.
Jasper speaks up. “We meet in the chapel at seven in the morning to hear Striker’s report.
Then we hit the road. It’ll be the two of you, Onyx, Slate, and me.
I know that four of us doesn’t sound like a lot against the mob, but we’ve got thirty brothers in LA who know all about how to deal with these fuckers. ”
The others mutter their agreement and wander off to the bar area.
Flint stands, tugging me to my feet. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
I follow Flint out of the meeting room, thinking that now definitely isn’t the right time to tell him I’m pregnant with his child. That’ll send him spiraling one way or another, and I can’t have him distracted when he’s going into a dangerous situation.
Best save it for when we get back. I’m still of two minds about how he will react. I think he will be happy, but then again, maybe he’s one of those men who has in his mind to be child-free.
We go to our room and cuddle on the bed. I sketch while Flint sits with his arm around me. He’s enthralled with watching my charcoal move over the page.
“That’s some kind of magic you’ve got there, sweetness,” he murmurs. “Sketching really helps you relax, doesn’t it?”
I nod without looking up from the face I’m shading. “Being able to finally put a name to the face I’ve been sketching and seeing in my nightmares makes it feel so much more real.”
He leans over to kiss the side of my head. “That’s one reason why I’m not bringing it up again. I know you need a break from talking about it.”
“Do you think he’s still alive?” I ask timidly.
“What? Of course he is. He’s not only alive, but we’re gonna find him.”
My hands keep moving over the paper, sketching, smudging, and erasing, carefully crafting the image that’s still stuck in my mind.
I’m excited, terrified, and dreading tomorrow. But I’m going to go anyway because if I were in Daniel’s place, I would want someone to show up for me.