And I get pure honesty in return—I can respect that. “I know Giselle loves you, my son loves you … and hell, you have been my friend since I can remember,” I tell him, struggling to find the right words to say. “As long as you realize you and her are only friends, then I think we can be cool.”
He pauses for a second, but then nods with a little grin on his face. I’m jealous, but I need to let it go, because I have no right to be. He was here, I wasn’t. That’s on me, no one else. The consequences are mine and mine alone. My burdens to bear.
“Be good to her,” he says finally.
“Fuck, man, I never want to hurt her again,” I admit.
The door opens and Gage walks in with a woman, holding her hand. “Hey guys,” he says when he sees us. “This is Bianca.”
The cute, petite blonde waves at us. “Nice to meet you.” Her voice is soft and sweet. She definitely doesn’t seem like Gage’s usual type, but I guess that’s changed.
We mumble our replies as they head into his room. My eyebrows hitting my hairline, I turn to Levi. “Serious?”
“As serious as he’s ever been before,” Levi replies with a smirk. “First time he’s brought her home, though.”
Good for him.
“Keira told me about how you called her,” Levi says. “Thanks for handling that. I wouldn’t have let her try and keep Justin away.”
My lips tighten at just the thought of her. How had I even touched a woman that was so selfish? “I didn’t want Parker to have to suffer because I decided to …”
Did Levi even know about Keira and me? I don’t think he did, and I wanted to keep it that way.
He shakes his head. “My sister is a troublemaker; always has been, and always will be. She’s always been jealous of Giselle.”
I turn to him. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Sounds like a good idea.” Levi laughs as giggling sounds come from Gage’s room. We stand up and leave as quickly as we can.
Chapter Sixteen
Tane
I call Giselle’s phone the next day, but she doesn’t answer. Assuming she must be busy, I decide to go to the cemetery with flowers for my mother’s gravestone. I stare down at her name engraved in the marble. Jocelyn Miller. I wish she could have been alive to meet Parker. She would have adored him.
Besides her taste in men, my mother had no faults that I knew of. She was kind, loving, and sweet, and never had a mean thing to say about anyone. She would be the first person to offer anyone help, whether they deserved it or not. She didn’t deserve to die so young.
A heart attack.
I place the orchids on top of the headstone and take a step back.
I love you, Mum.
“I heard you were back.” A voice I’d hoped I’d never have to hear again.
I turn and stare at the man who I thought was my father my whole childhood.
“I still come by here every week,” he says when I stay silent.
What does he want? A f**king medal?
“I have nothing to say to you,” I say quietly, turning and walking away.
“Tane,” he calls out.
I turn back and stare him down. A man I thought was big and scary as a child is now shorter than me, slightly overweight, and looking a little worse for wear.
He looks pathetic.
I don’t feel anything for him other than pity and hate. I know I need to forgive him—not for him, but for myself. I know how hate eats at you, making you do things you normally wouldn’t.
“Did you ever find your biological father?” he has the audacity to ask.
Jim Carlson. The name of my father.
Did I seek him out? Yes, I did. But I didn’t talk to him.
He’s the president of a local motorcycle club. I sat and watched him with his wife, and they looked happy. I didn’t want to ruin that. I don’t know if he has other kids or not, or if he even knows about me, but I let it be. Besides, the last thing I need is to get caught up in the life of an MC world. Giselle might take Parker and run. And I really don’t need to be around any drugs.
“I’m sorry, you know, for what I said to you,” he finally says.
I nod, but it’s a little too late for apologies.
“I still consider myself your father,” he says quietly.
Really? How can he say that after how he treated me?
“I don’t have a father,” I call out as I turn around and walk to my car.
*****
I have a talk on the phone with my sponsor, Timothy. We check in with each other weekly, or more, if I need someone to talk to. After seeing my father, or at least, the man I’d thought was my father, I called him. We talk for half an hour, and he says the things I need to hear. I don’t need to go backwards just because I ran into him. I’m stronger than that. Just because he pushed me away doesn’t mean I’m not worthy.
I hit the gym for two hours then head back home. When I see my personal assistant standing at my front door, I frown, thinking something must be wrong.
“Julia?” I call out as I walk to her. “What are you doing here?”
She lifts her face up and smiles as she sees me. “I was getting bored on leave. I thought we could talk about some of the events you’ve been asked to do.”
I wish I could say I wasn’t a cliché bastard and that I didn’t sleep with my assistant, but I can’t. It was, however, a one-time mistake that happened when I was drunk. That might not be an excuse, but it’s an explanation. I told her after that it wouldn’t be happening again. She’s good at what she does, although she can be pushy if you give her an inch.