Page 29 of August 20

"She's my daughter." He grimaced.

"You killed my sister and almost killed Skye by doing drugs in the house." She wrapped her arms around her waist and cupped her elbows. "You don't deserve her."

"It wasn't me." Maverick breathed heavily and shook his head.

Infuriated, she glared at him. He'd spent time in prison for the crime.

Everything he told her was a lie.

Chapter Sixteen

A cough held him in its violent grip. He sucked air into his lungs, trying to stop the spasms in his throat without breaking out in dry heaves that would only make it impossible to talk.

He'd let his temper get the best of him and talked too loudly. He strained what little muscles worked.

"You were guilty. They sent you to prison." She planted her hands on her hips. "I found out when I had to go to court to gain custody of Skye." She raised her hands and curled her index fingers. "You, the father, were responsible—"

"Three people died on August 20th." He held up three fingers. "Janelle, her boyfriend Tim Fields, and Jeremy Childress."

Maverick held up his hand, making her wait. Nobody knew why he refused to talk, and he wouldn't get into his struggles with Brooke. But he wasn't going to let her continue to believe he was responsible for almost killing his daughter.

"Fields manufactured meth out of the house." He panted, trying to breathe through the tightness. "Janelle had Skye. She never returned her to my house. I went looking for her and arrived..."

He coughed loudly. A bark.

The pain brought tears to his eyes, and he rubbed his hands over his face to hide the evidence of what it took for him to speak.

Brooke stood in front of him, waiting. His body shook, trying to keep his throat from sending him into a fit of coughing.

"I was at the door when the explosion happened." He bent at the waist and grabbed his knees, letting the tears from the struggle to talk fall to the ground. "I saved Skye. Ran back in and tried to get to Janelle, but the fumes and flames..."

"They said you were responsible—"

"No." He straightened and tapped his vest. She frowned, shaking her head. He pointed to the patch.

She continued to look confused. He hated that he couldn't shout out what he wanted to say.

He circled his face with his finger, pointed at the vest, and drew a noose around his neck with his finger.

Frustrated, he patted his chest again to calm the anger rolling through him. It was impossible to ignore the pain in his throat.

He coughed dryly until his abdomen screamed in pain.

"Are you saying they blamed you for the explosion and the murders because you're a biker?" she whispered.

"Just the explosion." He shook his head. "Not enough evidence for—" He coughed. "Murders."

She blew out her breath and turned away from him. He'd never told anyone that he was innocent. Jagger knew from digging into his past. As the president, it was his right. Maverick expected nothing less once he agreed to part from the mother club to the Chapter in Seaglass Cove.

Brooke covered her mouth. She shook. Had she assumed he was the only one responsible without knowing all the facts?

Janelle hung around with her druggy friends. It was a big problem after she had the baby. He'd had Skye most of the time because she wouldn't leave her friends behind and be the fucking mother Skye deserved.

"Oh, God," she whispered. "Meth labs have chemicals and fumes that are toxic and explosive..."

He nodded at the way understanding took the tension from her face.

She blew out her breath. "The explosion damaged you?"

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