Bones levels Naomi with his typical blank stare, though I can see a small twinkle of emotion in his eyes as he clears his throat.
“Why do you think he took off? He stuck around for two kids, but three was too many?” he scoffs.
“You and my mom had an affair,” Naomi guesses.
Bones nods. “Anthony was suspicious but didn’t actually confront her until after you were born. Guess he got a paternity test done while you were in the hospital.”
I blow out a breath and run a hand through my hair. I mean… I just don’t even know what to say. This is fucking insane.
“Why didn’t she ever tell me?” Naomi asks, echoing the disbelief I feel. “I mean, I’m sure she wasn’t proud of cheating on her husband, but still. Didn’t I have a right to know who my father was? Unless you asked her not to?”
Bones stays quiet for a moment, and a flash of hurt passes over her face.
“Must have been quite the nightmare for you when I showed up at the club one day.” She laughs bitterly. “The kid you tried to forget, tried to ignore comes barging into your life one way or another. You can’t write that stuff, huh?”
I expect Bones to stay quiet, so it surprises me when he says, “I wanted to know you.”
We both look at him with furrowed brows.
And then the rigid, emotionless biker I’ve known my whole life stands up a little taller. “I asked your mom if I could meet you—a lot. Have a relationship with you. She wouldn’t allow it. She didn’t want this life to find you, and there was no backing out for me. I didn’t want this life to find you either, so it was for the best.”
His words seem to bring Naomi a semblance of peace, and she does something completely unexpected. She offers her hand to Bones. He looks down at it like he’s inspecting it for ill intent before shaking it slowly.
“Thank you for telling me the truth and for saving my life, Bones,” she says.
“Jerry,” he rasps.
She gives him a tight smile. “Jerry.”
Then she turns to me, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close as I reflect on how close I was to losing her.
Bones watches us leave with a steady eye, though I don’t miss the heavy wave of emotions that rushes over his face, especially when Naomi doesn’t turn around once.
After word spreads that my father’s no more, Bones quickly assumes control of the club. A few guys who were loyal to my father leave without a trace, but no one outright opposes him. In fact, the majority of them are relieved. No one was happy with the way he was running shit, so it seems a change in leadership is exactly what they needed. I also take the opportunity to do what I need.
I walk into the clubhouse, sit down and tell him straight up.
I want out.
He looks at me for a moment like he’s waiting for the punchline. People don’t just ask to get out. The guys that defect are barred and blacklisted, and if they ever show their faces in Seattle again… well, let’s just say it’s better they don’t. Which is why me sitting down and asking politely to leave the MC must be a fucking joke.
I’m not playing, though.
I sit there in silence for what feels like hours before Bones finally gives me one terse nod. No parting words or gestures. No threats or favors. A simple release. Just like that, I’m free, and fuck if I don’t feel like it too, like a thousand pounds has been lifted from my shoulders.
I. Am. Free.
When I tell Naomi I’m out of the club, she breaks down in tears. She knows it was never where I wanted to be, that it wasn’t what I wanted for our life, and now we have a chance at a real, fully-fledged happily ever after. The whole fucking nine yards.
Nick comes by our apartment a few weeks after that, and when I open the door, I half expect him to pick up right where we left off. Instead, he gives me a sharp look and threatens to break my legs if I ever hurt her before storming away. It’s the closest thing to a blessing we’ll ever get from him, and it’s good enough for both of us.
Even Bones—or Jerry, I guess—attempts to make amends.
One night, we’re all at Mom’s for family dinner when there’s a knock at the door. She goes to answer it and freezes in place when she sees the mountain of a man standing in the doorway, looking almost nervous. His beard is combed, his jeans are clean and he has a small bouquet of wildflowers clenched in his meaty fist.
I half expect her to slam the door in his face but instead, tears well up in her eyes and she throws herself into his arms. He holds her tight, like she’s the most precious thing in the world, and it honestly takes us all by surprise.
Mom invites him in, and after that, he doesn’t miss a family dinner once. No one questions his presence; no one asks what their relationship is. Honestly, you’d hardly even know he was there, except for the fact he’s a 250-pound biker whose hand is permanently attached to Mom’s leg.