Chapter 24

Elena

“How did the session go today?” Carol asks as we prepare dinner together.

It’s been a while since I’ve worked in a kitchen; helping Carol prepare a meal that we’ll share actually feels nice. It’s a normalcy that pulls a certain peacefulness from a lost place in my heart and spreads warmth to the soul which seems to be on the mend.

Almost as if a piece of me has found its way back to the scarecrow that I’ve become.

“It was kind of helpful. I’ve learned a little bit about my father and who he was before he met my mother.” Now I know why he never shared much of his past with me. A pang of sadness grips me over the thought that he couldn’t tell me. I would have loved him all the same. Why couldn’t he just be open with me?

“Oh, Viper told you about how they grew up?”

“In a way,” I say, not wanting to really dive into specifics at the moment and ruin the fragile blooming of pure contentment.

“Does that help? Knowing.”

I shrug. “It does. Even though it makes me feel like a lousy daughter for not knowing the whole truth about who he was and what he’s done.”

“I think he may have been trying to protect you.” She tries to rationalize his behavior.

“Protect me from what?”

She doesn’t respond right away so I turn to look at her.

With a certain gloom, she says, “The evils of this world and how cruel it can be.”

Knock, knock.

I jump at the sound from Carol’s front door. Carol’s puzzled look has me widen my eyes. She wipes her hands on the kitchen towel hanging by the sink, then pads her curious feet to the door.

Staying in the kitchen, peeling the sweet potatoes, I listen closely and think of an exit strategy. I hate this feeling. The feeling of believing someone could be after me; I can’t shake it. I know too much – I’ve seen too much.

Could it be Randall to come and finish what he started? I’m still surprised that he let me live.

Not that I’m complaining, but why?

Maybe it’s Declan. Perhaps he wants to know how I’m doing. Carol’s been hounding me to stop ditching school… maybe he’s here to also convince me that I should probably take school seriously again if I want to graduate on time.

You know, like the friend that he is…

Or is it the spawn of Satan, himself?

Michael. The only house he ever really knocks on is his mother’s. Sure, he may have knocked once or twice at my house, but ninety percent of the time, he just busts right through.

Michael.

He’s played with my heart. He made me fall in love with him, kept me in love with him, and no matter how much I try to fight him off that cold dead piece of my heart - he’s still there like a leech sucking me dry. Why can’t I stop these feelings?

Whenever he’s around me, I feel that part of me start to warm up and slowly grow. I hate it because it feels like I’m letting him win. Winning this twisted game, he started with my father.

Michael. I peel a poor innocent potato with vengeance.

He didn’t want me the other night. How I hate him for denying me and then telling me that my father literally helped him cover up Isaac’s murder.

I stab and violently peel the potatoes as if they are to blame. It all makes me sick. How can I still love a man who killed another in cold blood? Something must be terribly wrong with me.

Maybe it was a matter of time – like what my dad apparently mentioned.

Bile slowly rises at the thought that entered my mind. Who knew I was capable of thinking such things?

A trickle of ice seers down my spine the second I hear that soothing, deep, southern drawl from the front door.

“Hi Ma,” he says, like he has bad news in the forecast of conversation.

Whisky tango foxtrot!

I can’t handle any more bad news. Not from him. If it’s from him, it must be very bad.

Calmly, I place the peeler and one of the many poor potatoes I peeled in anger onto the counter, then slowly step away. I gaze at the side door to the garage; I might be able to make a break for it.

“Michael, what are you doing here? Elena doesn’t want to see you,” I hear Carol's voice with determination to keep him out.

With light feet, careful not to make the wood floors creak beneath my weight, I tiptoe and reach for the doorknob.

“Ma,” I hear. “It’s time we learn the truth. We deserve that much.” I stop in my tracks right when my eager sweaty hand wraps around the knob.

What truth?

I vaguely remember Michael saying something about asking his mother about certain details when we were shouting at each other in his kitchen. What was it again?

“Elena!” Michael shouts; I jump at the sudden demanding octave.

“Michael, wait!” Carol squeals. There’s shuffling and then there’s the sound of the familiar heavy boots gaining ground.

With focus, I try to leave - I swear I try to, but my feet are frozen. My heart is pounding widely in my ears.

What truth?

“Elena.” The sound of him right behind me has me close my eyes. I can literally feel his heat on my back. “Kitten,” he drawls. I feel a large warm hand engulf my shoulder. “There’s something you need to know. Please, stay and listen.”

****

I decided to stay and see what truth I’ve been missing. Gathered around the dinner table, Michael conveniently is sitting next to me and Carol is across from both of us. She fidgets in her chair, clearly at a struggle for words.

What has she kept from me?

She looks me square in the eye. Guilt and sorrow flood her emotional hazel eyes as she silently begs for forgiveness.

With all the guidance and help she’s given me; I already know I’ll give it to her.

Or will I?

“Elena. First, I want to say that I am so sorry. If I had known…I.” She stops to pull in a breath. “I never would have suggested it.”

Narrowing my eyes at her, I skeptically ask, “Suggested what?” With a slight glance at Michael, I see that he’s nodding his head towards his mother to encourage her to go on.

“A few months before you moved here, I reached out to Elijah,” she starts. “As you know, my son has been involved with people who decide to pave their own path against the law. Jack was the same way and I admit that I kind of liked that about him -to an extent, because it was new, fun and wild, but it later consumed him; I saw the toll that it made on him and I had to live through the heartache it gave me. Jack and I didn’t want Mike to end up the same way… We figured our son could use a distraction to persuade him away from the club life. I heard Elijah was back in town for a job through the precinct here in Ludowici - I figured I’d reach out to him – knowing he has a beautiful daughter.”

It feels like a heavy rock drops in my stomach. She orchestrated this?

Her eyes droop with sadness as she continues. “Your father never had an interview. He was relocated here in order to do his job.” What? “When I found out he was moving here with you, we talked about the old days and our children. He brought up how he’s been keeping an eye on Michael’s choices, in case Elijah ever needed to intervene to get him out of some trouble. Jack specifically suggested he do that ever since he left.”

“If Dad cared so much, why didn’t he just stay?” Mike interrupts with a certain tone of disdain.

“Your uncle, who I've recently found out goes by the name of Randall-“

“His name is Randall,” I correct her.

“He had alias names. I never really knew his real name. Last I heard he went by the name of Greg Foster. Do you know for sure that’s his real name?”

“He introduced himself to me as such,” Mike states.

“Well. Then, Randall, came to your father to force him into working for him. Where he is now, I don’t know. He’s not allowed to tell me, but we keep in contact… in secret.”

“All this time, you’ve been in contact with him? And you didn’t think to tell me?” Mike roars with hurt. “I never knew if Dad was alive or dead!”

Carol bows her head in shame. “He didn’t want you to know.”

Mike lifts his arms just to drop them at his sides. “Why the hell not?”

Carol flinches from her son’s rage. “He asked me to keep it from you. He knows you better than you think, Michael. He knows you’d try to find him and get yourself killed in the process.”

The tension in the space of this small kitchen is stretched out so tight between the three of us, that I’m sure one of us will snap at any moment. “Still using that excuse? I work for that piece of s**t now. I can handle it.”

“No. Michael. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, just… let him go.” Carol nearly barks with a twinge of fear for her son.

Fear of him or for him if he doesn’t let this go – I’m not sure.

Mike shoves himself up from the table, nearly flipping it. Carol and I jump at the surprise as he paces his heavy boots back and forth on the wooden floor. The furious sound of his boots thunder throughout the house. With his hands in fists, his brows forming a V, those eyes turning a dark shade of angry green, and his lips pushing together - he looks like he could kill somebody. For once around him - I’m a little frightened.

I pull my focus back to Carol in order to keep myself grounded, I ask, “So you went to my father and got him to agree to have Mike be a bodyguard for me?”

Her bottom lip wobbles as she concentrates on her words. “Not so much a bodyguard. That was Elijah’s idea to help try and keep you safe from the unknowns of the man – Randall, apparently - he was trying to arrest. Randall sent death threats towards you to your father because he wasn’t stopping his search.” My eyes grow wide.

Death threats? Randall threatened to kill me? That’s why Dad hired Mike…

The woman in front of me shrugs her small delicate shoulder. “I suggested that you two get introduced and maybe have him be a friend here for you in hopes that you two would grow close and my son would see that there is more to life than a motorcycle club and running from the law. I never thought it would blossom into a relationship or even go terribly wrong as it did.” She gazes down at her hands in her lap as a few tears trickle down her slightly rosy cheeks. “I was just trying to look out for my son. He’s all I have left. I have Jack, but I really don’t at the same time… because of Randall.”

“And now I have no one because of this deal you made with my father.” She closes her eyes as tears stream down her face from not only hearing the coldness in my tone but also my icy glare.

She whispers, “I am so sorry, Elena.”

“What was the threat?” Mike shouts in demand of his mother.

Her brows pull together in confusion. “Threat?”

“He threatens people into doing what he wants them to do. It’s how he gets you to commit. What did he threaten to have Dad disappear?”

Carol takes a shaky breath then stares not at her son, but through him. By the side of her face, I can tell she’s debating her answer. “You.”

***Thank you so much for reading <3 I am so sorry for the long delay for another chapter. Things have been crazy with my two jobs and on top of that I rescued another puppy so I've been pretty busy lately - my apologies!***