Under Locke (36 page)

Slim gave me a disbelieving look that just barely overshadowed his apologetic one. "Was he pissed?"

I snorted, making my redheaded friend wince.

"Yeah. Sorry, Iris. You know we don't care if you leave for a while but Dex called right after you left. Then he called again every ten minutes after that, checking to see if you'd made it back." He bared his teeth. "Sorry."

Like I could get mad at Slim for being honest. I shrugged and fished through my purse for a stick of gum, tossing
a piece
at him. "It's okay. I shouldn't have been gone that long." That was kind of the truth.

"We were all a little worried." He flashed me a bright smile. "It just means we like you."

If calling someone a dumb shit was a way of showing
them
affection, then I definitely didn't want to have any friends.

~ * ~ *

For the next few hours, I tried my absolute best to not think about what had gone down on the top floor of Mayhem. I was a little sad, a little mad, and a lot frustrated. Frustrated because I wished this crap with the sperm donor wouldn't have happened because then Sonny would be in Austin, and I'd be at his house, and things would just be fine.

It made me feel selfish but oh well.

We closed up the shop a little after midnight, and I sent Dex a text as soon as I'd gotten into the car. With any luck, I'd get back to his place before him and could feign being asleep to avoid any other crap. Now, if he was home already, I was screwed and wanted a minute to mentally prepare myself for him.

So I thought it'd be a good idea to drive by Mayhem and make sure he was still there, otherwise...

Yeah.

I slowed down to drive by the parking lot, but I recognized him even before I was close. After seeing him outside of Pins so many times, leaning against the wall with his cigarette between his lips and fingers, his stance was identifiable. It was all Dex. Relaxed and strong, reeking of all the shits he didn't give.

And right next to him
was the same redhead that had come into the shop earlier.

They were talking but his attention was focused on the biker I recognized from Sonny's place, the one I'd stood next to just a few hours before.

Jealousy and I don't know what else it was—it was bitter and stung my throat—rose up into my mouth. Because...

What did I expect? That Dex was some kind of celibate saint? He was attractive. Incredibly attractive. And he was really nice when he wanted to be. He was even nice in his own way when he didn't want to be. And he'd told me things about himself that I was confident he didn't share often. And he took care of me in his rough, Dick way. I liked Dex.

Holy shit.

I liked Dex.

I don't know why it hadn't hit me before. Maybe because he was my boss and he still got on my nerves pretty often.

But mainly because I realized deep down inside of me that there was no point in accepting or recognizing any feelings I could have for a man like him. A man who did his duty to his friend's sister.

God, I was such an idiot.

Such a friggin' idiot.

I hit the gas to accelerate at the same time I reached out to grab my phone, hitting the second person under my favorites to call.

It rang for a while, almost too long but right at the last moment, he answered.

"Ris?" Sonny answered in a raspy voice.

A shuddering breath made its way out of my lungs. "Hey, Sonny."

There was a bunch of noise in the background. The sound of a door opening and closing. "Hey kid, I was just thinking about you," he said. "You doing okay?"

Ugh. The one day out of so many when I wasn't fine, and he'd ask. "Eh," I answered him honestly. I mean, I'd already lied enough today. No need to tarnish my record anymore, especially not with my brother. "You?"

He sighed. Long and deep. "I've been better, too."

Something about his tone nipped at me. "What's wrong?" I asked him carefully.

"Ahh, kid," he hedged.

Like that would stop me. "Where are you?"

"Almost to Denver. I don't know what the name of this shitty little town is but we're in Colorado."

Colorado? "Is that where you think the sperm donor is?"

The three second long hesitation should have been my warning sign. "Maybe. My friends in Arizona said they know he'd passed through a couple weeks ago, so I'm hoping he went up north since he used to live there."

"Oh." It frustrated me how little I knew about my dad, though it shouldn't. "Did he live there recently?"

Another pause. More hesitation. "Uh, not really. I just don't think he'd be dumb enough to go back to Cali if he knows there's people looking for him."

So, Curt Taylor had lived in Denver for a while before ending up in California somewhere? What was it about this guy that made him unable to settle down?

And then it hit me, caustically, like a
massive
stone stuck in my kidneys, tearing a fresh line of pain through my insides.

What was the one thing this man always ran from, Iris?
M
y brain screamed.

"Son," was all I could manage to get out of my mouth while I maneuvered across the freeway.

"Ris." He was being too different. Too guarded.

Neither one of us said anything for too long. Only the steady in and out of our breaths crossed the cellular connection. I was scared to ask, scared to desire the confirmation of the fear that had rooted itself into my stomach, and Sonny? Sonny was probably nervous about answering any more questions I had.

He knew. He knew that I had an idea.

As much as I genuinely didn't want to know, the question just kind of came out in a gasp. "Is there—?"

My brother, my beloved half-brother, sighed. "I'm sorry, Ris. I didn't know how to tell you."

Of course he wouldn't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

"
Lu
told m
e
about it fucking forever ago. Your mom had been really sick back then, and you were just a kid—"

It felt like the blood instantly drained from my body. Back when my mom had been sick?

I must have made some sort of sound because Sonny let out a long line of colorful curse words that I would
ha
ve appreciated if I hadn't just found out that my father had more kids while he was still married to my dying mother.

That time I did hear the ugly choking sound that exploded out of my mouth.

"I'm sorry, Ris. I know I should've told you but I couldn't," he murmured, his voice straining. "I love you, kid. I love you so fucking much and you've been through
enough shit
already, I just couldn't do that to you."

For being the kind of person that cried whenever I felt anything slightly more than normal, later on, I could wonder why I didn't burst into tears at Sonny's words. At his explanation. His truth and lies. At my father's indiscretions and mistakes.

But in that moment, all I could focus on was the burning that
scorched
my guts and throat. It was betrayal and jealousy and anger in its purest form.

"Talk to me," Sonny pleaded over the line, pulling me back from the insane thoughts going through my head.

I shouldn't be mad. I shouldn't feel anything.

But the problem was, that I did.

"Iris," he called out.

"Shit," I muttered into the phone, somehow managing to keep on the barely familiar drive toward Dex's place. "I just—I just can't wrap my head around it. How old...?"

He groaned, telling me that this definitely wasn't a conversation that was easy on him either. "I don't know for sure.
I’m guessing
like ten, eleven."

That son of a friggin' whore.

Lava-like anger flared through my chest again. When I was fourteen, I'd been in the middle of radiation. My Mom had been getting weekly chemotherapy treatments that ravaged her. And what had that asshole been doing? Making babies? Babies that he apparently didn't take care of.

Another ugly choking noise sprang out of my throat no matter how hard I tried to repress it.

I mean, how the fuck could he have done that? Sure my parents were separated, but seriously?

"What
’
s wrong with him?" I gasped into the receiver.

"I don't know," Sonny replied, sounding way too glum. "He's fucked up in the head, kid."

He was fucked up in the head and he was a huge asshole. A monstrous asshole.

"I can't believe it." Because I could remember his face when he'd come down right before my mom died two years later. His face when he came into the hospital room to see her, was etched into my memory. There was no way he coul
d ha
ve faked his devastation, but maybe that had been my problem.

I hadn't really thought about it. He'd been devastated for my mom. But I'd been in remission at the time of his visit and not once had he ever even made a peep about my arm. About my own situation. I'd
caught
him looking at the scarring from time to time, this man I wasn't sure what to think of, but he never said a word.

That reminder just refueled my resentment.

"Are you with Dex?"

I sucked in a deep, ragged breath. "No."

"Where are you?" he asked in a gentle voice.

"Driving to his house."

There was another infamous pause. "By yourself?"

Damn it. I could
ha
ve lied to him or at least not mentioned the earlier incident but I didn't have it in me. If he'd finally confessed to the existence of our other half-sibling then I could at least tell him something. "He's pissed off at me." My voice was still too ragged. "I left Pins and stopped by your house without him. He got really mad."

The only response I got was a long, low groan. He was trying not to blow his lid. Sonny knew I didn't need or want to hear him bitching at me. "Goddamnit, Ris," he sighed. "Don't do that again."

"I won't." God, I sounded so meek.

Another long pause filled the line. A million thoughts being processed by two different brains, I could only imagine. "Look, I'll let you know how everything goes. I want to find him as soon as possible, and Trip's helping. Once I get back, we'll figure shit out."

I didn't know what shit there was to figure out but a small voice told me that he was probably referring to the child in Colorado that, at least at the moment, neither one of us were fans of. I'm sure that once I wasn't so mad anymore, I'd come to my senses. From what Sonny had said, our dad hadn't stuck around there for long either. That man was a creature of habit.

Damn it. I could feel myself getting pissed off all over again. Even more so than before.

"Okay, Sonny." I wanted to bang my head against the steering wheel, but there was still another five minutes of driving left ahead of me.

"Are we gonna be okay?" he had the nerve to ask.

My heart swelled, only momentarily eclipsing the fury I felt toward our asshole sperm donor. My vow to not call him an asshole had apparently disappeared at some point.