Chapter 10 #2
I grimaced. Not helpful. Not possible. Well, OK, technically possible. But unlikely. And I hoped the fuck not. I guzzled the rest of my beer and walked outside to see a lanky hurricane of a teenage girl with long hair arguing with Coast, attempting to bulldoze past him to get into the clubhouse.
“Can I help you?” I asked pointedly.
Her gaze snapped to me, and she put her hands on her hips. “Are you Jonah?”
“Legally, yeah. And you are?”
She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “I’m Jessa. Your sister.”
The words hit like a baseball bat to the ribs. I took a sharp breath. My fucking what?
Coast let out a low whistle and patted me on the shoulder as he walked past, heading back into the clubhouse. “Good luck with that.”
I blinked at her. “What do you mean you’re my sister?”
“Are you dumb?” she snapped. “We share a mother. That makes me”—she pointed at her chest—“your sister.”
My jaw tensed. “Well, I’ve never known my mother. And I don’t know you. How do you really know that we share the same DNA?”
“Google,” she explained. “I found your name in a newspaper article about a self-defense class you taught for the club.”
My gut tightened at the memory of that debacle. My life was just one fuck-up after another.
“Why are you here?”
Jessa’s tough-girl posture wavered. “Mom wants to see you. Just one time.” Her shoulders slumped. “She’s sick. Real sick. And, sure, she hasn’t been a great mom, but she’s dying.” Her voice cracked.
A tear rolled down her cheek before she wiped it away fast. My gut clenched. This kid was about to lose the only parent she’d ever known. And a piss-poor parent at that, if I had to guess.
“I don’t know you. You don’t owe her anything. You don’t owe me anything. But it’s her last wish. Just come see her, and I promise you’ll never hear from me again.”
I released a heavy sigh. “Let’s go for a walk,” I suggested, nodding toward the back trail that wound behind the clubhouse. “There’s a path behind that goes to a little stream. It’s quiet.”
She looked at me with doubt in her eyes. “Are you going to off me or something?”
That pulled an unexpected laugh from my chest. “Girl, I might be an outlaw, but I don’t hurt innocent kids.”
She huffed. “I’m not a kid. I’m fifteen.”
“Jesus.” I rubbed a hand on the back of my neck. Fucking fifteen. She was younger than I’d realized because she was so tall for her age.
“Come on,” I said, my voice softening. “I need a minute to process the fact that I have a sister. Let’s talk.”
Nearly nineteen years. That’s how much older I was than Jessa. Old enough to be her father.
She narrowed her eyes at me in suspicion but then nodded as she walked by my side.
“How’d you get here?”
She looked at me like I’d asked her the color of the sky. “Ever heard of Uber?”
I snorted. “Yeah, I’m aware of Uber.”
She shrugged. “Wasn’t sure if old people knew what that was.”
I ignored the age comment. “So, how much do you know about me?”
“Not much. I knew Mom had a kid before me. Like way before me. And she gave you up.”
That was a generous interpretation of what happened, but I controlled my expression.
“She didn’t start to really talk about you until the past few months. She has end-stage liver disease. She’s got maybe three months.” Jessa glanced away to wipe another tear. “She’s been making amends. You know, before she’s too dead to make them.”
I nodded, not sure what to say. She was way too young to be carrying the burden of her mother’s last dying wish.
“That’s why she wants to see you. She wants to explain.”
I bristled. “I’m not interested in her excuses. She can take them to her grave.”
Jessa winced, and I immediately felt like an asshole. I rubbed my eyes, trying to figure out how to explain. “Listen, kid, I had a shit childhood because of her.”
Jessa held up a hand. “Again, I’m not a kid. Stop calling me that or I’m going to cut out your tongue. She wasn’t exactly winning Mother of the Year awards raising me.”
I smirked. Jessa was more like me than she realized. “How bad was it?”
She shrugged. “She’s a shitty parent. But it could’ve been worse.”
“And you still want to help her? Tracking down a stranger to fulfill her last wishes? Even though she sucked at parenting?”
“She’s still my mom,” Jessa said quietly, her voice cracking. “I can love her while recognizing that I deserved better. I can go above and beyond to make this happen while hating her a little for not even doing the bare minimum for me.”
This kid. Fucking mature beyond her years.
“That’s what I’m asking of you. The bare minimum. Visit her for twenty minutes. Let her say her piece. Then you can go back to”—she waved a hand back toward the clubhouse—“whatever you do in a biker gang.”
“Club,” I clarified. “We’re a club, not a gang.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. So, will you do it?”
I stared at the stream, my eyes unfocused as I considered her ask. “Can I think about it?”
“I guess.” She tossed a rock into the water and watched the waves expand outward. “I need to get back. I have to work tonight.”
“You work?”
She nodded. “At a diner. I wash dishes. Sweep floors. They pay me in cash. Under the table.”
I didn’t like it. At fifteen, she should be—I don’t know—playing with makeup? Walking around the mall? What did kids do these days?
She opened the Uber app on her phone, and I pressed her hand down to stop her.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
I shot a text to Merrick.
Me: Long story, but I have a sister. She took an Uber here. Can I borrow your truck to drive her home?
He responded with just a thumbs-up. He always said I could borrow it anytime. But I still liked to offer the courtesy of asking.
Jessa followed down the trail and hesitated when I took a path that split from the way we’d come.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked suspiciously, stopping in her tracks.
“My club brother lives on the property. I’m borrowing his truck to take you home. I only have a bike, and I can’t take you on that. He lives this way.”
She stepped after me. “Why not? I’ve been on a motorcycle before.”
“You what?”
“Yeah, I went on a date with a guy who drove one.”
“Was he wearing a Mavericks cut?”
“A what?”
“This,” I said, tugging at the leather vest with patches. “Was he wearing one of these?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Good,” I gruffed.
“Does that mean I can’t date any of the guys in your little gang?”
“Club,” I reminded her. “And no. Abso-fucking-lutely not.”
“Why?”
“One, because you’re a child. Fucking jailbait. And two, and most fuck-portantly, you’re my sister. That makes you a no-fly zone.”
“Huh.” Her tone was even, but curious.
“Huh? The fuck does that mean?”
“Just the whole ‘morals’ thing. I didn’t expect it.”
I shook my head as we got to Merrick’s porch.
He tossed me the keys. “Stop by after,” he said. He nodded at Jessa, then turned to go back inside.
That’s what I appreciated about Merrick. He didn’t grill me for details. Didn’t ask Jessa questions. He’d let me explain later.
I slid into the driver’s seat as Jessa hopped into the other side. “Seatbelt,” I reminded her.
She grumbled but listened.
“Which way?” I asked.
“Hell if I know. Do you have GPS?”
I handed her my phone. “After you put your address in, add your number in so I can get a hold of you.”
“Do you seriously use this phone?”
“What’s wrong with my phone?”
“It’s not an iPhone.” She stared at my Google Pixel like it was a pile of dogshit.
“My phone’s fine. It makes calls. Fully functional.”
“But the green texts.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s criminal. How do you even live like this?”
“Are teenagers always this dramatic?” I deadpanned.
I followed the mechanical voice reading directions as I grilled Jessa about her life.
Did she like school? What were her hobbies?
She was clearly smart and funny, though often using humor and sarcasm as a shield.
She didn’t have time to do anything outside of school with her job, but she loved to read and write. She wanted to be an author someday.
When I asked about her father, she scoffed. “Mom didn’t change there. She didn’t remember who he was by the time she realized she was knocked up.”
The GPS directed me to turn into a mobile home park, and I stopped in front of a run-down trailer with a tattered tarp covering missing shingles. The uncut grass stood nearly knee-high.
“Home sweet home,” Jessa said sarcastically. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem,” I said, my gut tightening at the thought of what the trailer must look like inside.
“Maybe we can get to know each other?” she asked hesitantly. “Even if you don’t come see Mom. I’ll understand if you decide not to. Just, like …” She trailed off and looked away. “I won’t have a family after she’s gone.”
I wrapped a hand around her shoulder and squeezed. “I’d like that. Call me if you need anything.”
“Who calls people?”
“OK, then text me if you need anything. I’m serious. A ride. A meal. School stuff. Whatever. How about we have breakfast tomorrow morning?”
“I have to work, but I’ll look at my schedule and text you some days that I have open.”
“OK, kid. I’m glad you found me. And I’ll think about it, OK? I just don’t know if I should see her. I don’t know if I can hold my tongue.”
She nodded. “I understand. But she’s not a bad person. She’s a human who was dealt a shitty hand in life and did shitty things. Sometimes she didn’t know better. And sometimes she just wasn’t strong enough to do better.”
I smiled grimly at her. This fucking kid deserved so much more.
Jessa slammed the door behind her and walked into the ramshackle structure that would probably collapse during the next hurricane.
I drove back to the clubhouse in complete silence.
No radio, no phone calls, just a buzzing in my head and an ache in my chest. I walked into Merrick’s house without knocking, set the keys on the counter, and cracked a Shiner Bock.
I sat across from him at the table. I took a long drink and then met his eyes.
“So, I have a sister,” I explained.
“I heard,” Merrick said, his tone even. “Did you know she threw a punch at Coast?”
I snickered. “Not surprised.”