Page 125 of Past Due

“Done,” he said without hesitation.

“I want a monthly paycheck for the rest of my life. Enough to live on and be comfortable,” she clarified. “Nothing crazy.”

“That’s easy enough to arrange.”

“And I want Spider out of jail and free,” Mom said, surprising us both.

Besian glanced at me. “Kim, I’m not sure that’s something I can do.”

“Bullshit,” she shot back. “Whatever that stuff is,” she gestured toward the paperwork he held, “it’s worth a lot of money. I’m sure there’s enough there to pay off whoever needs to be paid off to get Spider out.”

“Not legally,” Besian warned. He glanced at me again. “I can make other arrangements, though. He’ll have to be transported from the hospital to jail at some point or from jail to the courthouse and vice versa. It won’t be easy, but I know some people who can intercept those transports.”

“Besian,” I said, worriedly. “You’re talking about breaking my dad out of federal custody.”

“Yes, I am.”

He said it as if it were the easiest thing in the world to arrange a jail break. Maybe it was if you were a man like Besian with the sorts of connections he had.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “I’m stepping outside to make some calls. I’ll be right by the door if you need me.”

When he was gone, my mom sighed with relief and plopped down on the other side of the banquette again. Seeing how exhausted she looked, I reached across the tabletop and rubbed her hand. “It’s going to be okay, Mom.”

“No,” she said quietly. “There’s something else you need to know.”

My brow furrowed. “Something about Adrienne and the crypto?”

“No.” She waved her other hand. “Not that. No, this goes way back.”

“To when?” The sadness and hint of fear in her eyes scared me. “Mom? What is it?”

She gripped both of my hands, and I could feel her fingers trembling wildly. “I wanted to tell you a long time ago,” she said, starting to cry again. “I begged Spider to let me tell you. I told him you deserved to know the truth, but he wouldn’t allow it.”

I gulped anxiously. “The truth about what?”

“About who you really are, sweetheart.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, sugar, didn’t you ever wonder where your pretty red hair came from?”

“I always assumed it was from my bio dad. Whoever he is,” I added, wondering if this was the moment she was finally going to tell me his name.

“No, honey,” she said sadly. “You get your hair from your mama.”

Her words made no sense to me. “Mom, what are you—”

“Her name was Annie,” my mother cut in quickly. “She was my best friend in the whole world, and I loved her so much. We were like sisters. Like you and Aston.”

I couldn’t process what she was saying. I stared dumbly at her, wondering what the hell was happening.

“Annie was Spider’s little sister,” she explained, her trembling fingers gripping my hands more tightly. “She was so beautiful. Just like you. All that red hair and the blue eyes and freckles on her nose. She was all sweetness and light, and everyone loved her.” My mother sobbed raggedly. “There was a man. A biker in the club,” she explained. “He was a mean piece of shit, and he had it out for Spider from the beginning. He realized Annie was Spider’s soft spot, and he decided to hurt Spider the only way he could.”

I tore my hands free from my mother’s and shot out of the banquette. My heart raced, and my stomach rolled and heaved. Please, I thought desperately, please don’t say it.

“He raped her. Just tore her right up,” Mom wept. “It was awful what he did to her. Spider and Romero made him pay. They killed him. Made him dig his own grave before they did it.”

I’m going to throw up. I braced myself on the counter by the tiny sink and tried to swallow the bile rising in my throat.

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