Chapter 11
Tank – Present Day
I grunt as I lift up the pipe against Ace’s Harley, then grab the jack to stand beneath it so I can bolt it on, struggling to do the job on my own, my arm screaming at me with the weight of the metal, but I relish it, in the pain. I need a distraction.
Since Granny’s funeral, since feeling Jas and thinking maybe I was going insane, to then fucking seeing her in the hospital with my daughter, my fucking kid, I haven’t been able to keep my emotions under control as I have for the past six years, but finding out my own mother threatened to slice my daughter's throat…
Fuck!
I’m about to snap, I can feel it so I’m trying to get outta my goddamn head by doing all the grunt work alone before I say fuck it and go into the clubhouse and shoot my mother between the eyes like she deserves because of fucking course she hasn’t listened to Doc’s command to stay the fuck away.
Disrespecting her husband’s pres and Dad also won’t follow through with Doc’s command until he’s been told why his wife is being banned like a fucking prick despite him fucking Tiffany every goddamn day.
He should have taken his pres’ orders because then yesterday would most likely not have happened, and he wouldn’t have been demoted to grunt work with the prospects.
And to make things worse, the brothers have backed my dad despite him being put on grunt work.
They’re demanding an explanation before banning an old lady of thirty years, going against their president, pissing him off, which only escalated after the shitshow yesterday to the point he’s been at work just so he doesn’t shoot his brothers or me.
My jaw ticks as I grab a bolt while wiping my forehead with my arm, sweat dripping.
Growing up, I fucking hated my mother, didn’t want to be around her, and felt like I couldn’t be near the club because of her.
I resented my father for being blind, now though, fuck, hate isn’t a strong enough word to describe how I feel towards my mother, towards him, and the fucking club that has stood behind them.
Her words from yesterday run through my head, and my anger spears through me yet again as I throw my wrench across the garage in frustration.
“Don’t worry, Kate, he’s going to marry you.
I’ve already ensured it when I paid that bitch to leave town and threatened to kill her after I saw she miscarried.
Logan will marry you. He’ll do as I say, or the footage I have of him growing up will be sent out.
I will have my way,” I hear Mama whisper as I walk out of my room and pause, listening.
What the fuck…
“No, darling, I promise, she lost the baby, I made sure by looking through her notes while the doctors were busy,” Mama consoles, and I frown.
Doctors?
I promised Doc I wouldn’t confront my mother, that I’d wait until our meeting today, but fuck, Mama thought Jas had lost Aisling?
But I thought Mama told her to get rid of her or else?
Confusion fills me, because what the fuck? Before anger builds as Mama gloats, “I owe whoever attacked her and killed the spawn a drink…”
Attacked? What the fuck does she mean by attacked?
I blink, her words spinning before they actually sink in, moving past the attack and fury builds.
Her own fucking grandchild?
“Is that so?” I sneer, making myself known, and Mama quickly drops the phone in shock as she jumps back, her mouth parting as her eyes tear.
“Mama?” I her Kate question and I try not to snort at the irony.
Of course she calls her mama.
“Logan,” my egg donor whispers, and I shout, “Is that fucking so, Mama?!” not able to keep my temper at bay making her flinch before I walk over to her and slam my boot down on her phone, Kate pleads quiet as I make sure the fucking thing is smashed, making the woman who birthed me and hated that I was born a boy gasp.
I get in her face and say, “You want to show everyone how you dressed me up in dresses? How you burned me when I wanted to act like a boy and not a girl? How you forced me to grow my hair out to the point I itch when I feel it getting too long, go a-fucking-head because Dad will put the bullet between your eyes himself,” her tears fall as her body trembles, not so much the fucking tough bitch now, and I threaten, “Come near me again, and I will slice your throat like you threatened to do to my daughter!”
Her eyes widen as she stutters, “D-daughter…”
I smirk coldly and confirm, “Yeah, Sara,” she flinches, “My daughter, the granddaughter you probably always wanted, the one you thought was dead and wanted to praise my girl’s attacker for trying to kill,” I get further into her face and grab her neck, squeezing it, showing her blood is not fucking thicker where she is concerned and I threaten, “You go anywhere near my daughter, if those psycho bitches you keep bringing around even look at her or my girl, I’ll burn you all alive. ”
“Lo…” she sobs, and I sneer, “You are fucking dead to me,” before shoving her back hard against the wall, and she cries out as her head bangs against it hard before I turn and storm away, my body trembling with so much fucking anger.
She lied to me, maybe not about Mama wanting to kill our daughter, but the whole scenario of how it happened, she fucking lied to me, or at least omitted the truth, but why?
I handed in my cut, well, more like chucked it on the floor, quitting the club, shocking everyone before storming out.
The only reason why I’m still working at Rebel’s motors with Dirty is because I’m contracted and the fucker knew what he was doing when he had me sign the fucking thing because the payout clause is over a million dollars.
Which obviously I didn’t check until I got back home last night from the hospital to see if I could quit, after watching my daughter sleep while Jas stared out the window, refusing to speak to me since her revelation.
I don’t even know the full story of how Jas ended up in hospital to begin with, dammit, I don’t even fucking know how Mama managed to find out about her.
Nothing is adding up, and the more I try to make sense of everything, the more my anger builds.
“You know I said I would help you with Ace’s bike, brother,” Dirty’s voice booms in the garage, breaking my thoughts.
I grunt, “Not your brother, just your family,” as I sit up straighter and grab a rag and wipe my hands, not shocked that he’s showing up today despite promising his son Caleb that he’d spend the day with him.
“It’s the same fucking thing you idiot, so stop with that shit!” he growls, and I roll my eyes before giving the man a hard glare.
“One, I’m not your brother any longer, I handed in my cut yesterday, so no, they aren’t the same thing, and two, where is Caleb?” I say, noticing a certain little guy is definitely missing.
Normally, he would have run in.
Caleb, the cute fucking kid, is his whole world despite how he was conceived.
His mama, well, she’s a patch chaser through and through, she heard how Trigger married Ashley as soon as she said she was pregnant with Cole and decided to try that tactic herself by poking holes in his fucking condoms like a crazy bitch.
When she gave birth, her plan to snatch a club brother failed when Dirty got full custody of his son.
Now she barely sees him, and when she does, the kid tries to run the other way.
“He’s at a friend's for the night,” Dirty admits, “Though this friend is a girl, so I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
I raise a brow, “Brother, the kid is now six, I’m sure him having a sleepover with a girl is perfectly normal.”
Dirty points at me as a grin overtakes his face as he snaps, “Ha, told you you're still a brother,” and I groan making him cackle, the fucker.
Years of calling them brothers, it’ll take a lot to get out of that mindset, fuck, I only patched in to begin with because of Doc, and Dirty knows this. I really don’t know why he wants to push me on this.
I never wanted to be around the club, around my mother, and becoming a brother stopped being my dream when my father became distant and began fucking Tiffany.
Sighing, Dirty walks over to me and takes a seat on the tire I’ve yet to put back on the bike and admits, “It isn’t the girl that’s the problem, not really, it’s her mama.”
I furrow my brows as I sit back and give him my whole attention and demand, “Explain, brother,” the word slipping out yet again making him grin but I ignore it.
Dirty has never mentioned a woman before.
He winces seeing I’m not going to let him out of this and he sighs, “The woman is Caleb's teacher, and I haven’t met her yet. She’s only been at the school for a few months.
I’ve met the kid’s uncle, or at least I think he’s the uncle but he’s the one who picked Caleb up, and the fact I haven’t met her mother is unnerving, especially considering my son wants to set us up on a fucking date. ”
I snort before a laugh escapes me, and he scowls my way but it doesn’t stop my humor, especially realizing now why he’s pissed his son has gone on a sleepover.
Okay, so we brothers, most of us anyhow, don’t want to settle down.
Growing up in the club, we see a lot, including our fathers, our uncles, our fucking family, treat the women of the club like shit.
We see them cheating, and sometimes, like my case, we see our mothers, our aunts straying on the men who gave them everything.
It puts you off, fuck, it definitely put me off more ways than one no thanks to my mother, but when we meet the girl of our dreams, the one who sends electric sparks throughout us, the one who gives us the urge to grab hold of her and never let her go, to protect her always.
We claim her without a second thought and refuse to let her go.