Page 26 of Starting Over

“Stop keeping shit from her,” I growled. “People have kept shit from Beck her whole life, in the name of protecting her. It’s bullshit. Secrets don’t protect you, they just hold off the inevitable.”

“There was nothing to tell.”

“You’re in the fucking Mob.” I stood up and tossed the towel of ice in the sink.

“I have a twenty-minute conversation every six months. I am not in the fucking Mob.”

“What do you talk about?”

“What?” Blade asked.

“What do you talk about in those twenty minutes? What does he ask you?”

Blade scrubbed his hand over his face. I knew he was stalling.

“It’s just bullshit conversation. Wanting to know how I’m doing, have I told anyone about them, shit like that.”

“Do they know about my daughter?”

Blade stared at me. If he didn’t answer me, I was going to lose my shit. I needed to know how much Sal knew.

“They know I have a woman, but they don’t know her name or who she is.”

“Goddammit, Blade!” I stormed out of the kitchen and into the common room just as Patch walked in, and Blade followed behind me, spouting off more bullshit.

“They know nothing about her,” he reiterated.

“They are the fucking Mob. You think they haven’t looked into everyone you know?” I shouted.

His face paled.

Maybe he was finally getting it.

Shit, that meant he knew I was here. That meant he knew about King. Did he know the truth about who he was?

“Hey, Cash called and said I needed to look at your hand?” Patch said, drawing my attention.

“It’s fine. I punched the wall, but it went through the sheetrock. I didn’t hit a stud.”

“Just let him look at your fucking hand,” Cash growled behind me.

Sighing heavily, I held my hand up and wiggled my fingers. “See, everything works.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Patch clipped, grabbing my hand.

When he saw me wince, he shook his head and started poking around my hand.

“Ok, nothing’s broken, but it’s gonna be sore for a few days.”

“I told you I was fine,” I dismissed, walking to the door. Before leaving, I turned to Blade. “Go home. Stay with my daughter. If you can’t be with her, bring her here, or call me. I don’t want her left alone.”

I left the clubhouse and got into my patrol car. I needed to find out what Sal’s game was. Why did he let Blade live, and why hadn’t he come for me? When my parents died, why didn’t he come for King?

Assuming he didn’t know the truth about King, why hadn’t he made contact with me in all these years? Was it because I became a cop?

These were questions I needed answered, but there was no one to ask but Sal himself. I wouldn’t reach out to him, though.

Instead, I chose to live in ignorance a little while longer.

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