Page 1 of The Secrets We Keep

1

SOPHIE

The cool morning air blows through the window of my car as I stare straight ahead. After five and a half hours on the road, the pavement starts to blur in front of me, so I open the window to wake myself up. Asher and I left Atlanta as soon as I heard the news. I woke him up at four in the morning after packing our bags and loading the vehicle. He was confused, rightfully so, but fell asleep as soon as I started driving.

Asher has never been to Silver Springs, North Carolina, and I was hoping that his first time there would be for a better reason. Instead, we’re going to my father’s funeral.

I glance in my rearview mirror and find Asher fast asleep, his black curly hair wild, the epitome of bedhead. I smile, knowing that he’s the best thing that came out of my time in Silver Springs. When I was younger, I thought my entire life would be spent in the quaint, southern town. I thought that I would marry my high school sweetheart and have a bunch of his babies. My plan was to go to culinary school and openmy own restaurant, but everything changed seven years ago.

I wasn’t welcome in this town back then, I’m probably still not. When the president of the Sovereign Sons Motorcycle Club tells you to leave town, you do it.Even if he’s your father.

Asher and I aren’t going back to Silver Springs to start over, we’re going back to make sure my father is dead. I know that sounds awful, but if you knew the man, you would understand. My mom died during childbirth, and my father blamed me for it. I don’t know how many times over the years he told me that I killed the love of his life. Every time he drank too much or was angry at me, that was his favorite jab. Normal fathers loved and cared for their children.Mine treated me like I was a burden.

I didn’t grow up in a loving home, I grew up in a motorcycle clubhouse. My father didn’t shield me from the drunk men, the sex, or the drugs.I saw everything.Not all the members were bad, though. My father’s vice president was always kind to me. Kurt Williams was the perfect depiction of the father I wish my own was. Most nights, Kurt and his wife, Lisa, would invite me to dinner and make sure my homework was done. They shielded me from the things I shouldn’t have seen and made me feel like a part of their family.

Because of them, I met the love of my life, and because of my father, I lost him. I shake my head toclear my thoughts as I take the exit for Silver Springs. I drive down the familiar streets, noticing the small changes to buildings over the last seven years.

I pull into the gas station off main street and park the car, turning around to gently nudge Asher awake.

“Hey buddy, we’re here,” I tell him softly. “We need to head inside and get changed, okay?”

His bright blues eyes find mine as he blinks the sleep away and takes in his surroundings. Sometimes I forget how much he looks like his father, but his curly black hair and sleepy face reminds me every time. The only thing he got from me is the color of his eyes and his smile, everything else is allhim.

“Are we there, mama?” He asks eagerly.

“We are,” I say with a small smile. “But we need to change so we can go to the service, okay?”

Asher nods his head in agreement and unbuckles himself, hopping out of his seat and pulling open his door. I move to his side of the vehicle, clasping his hand in mine and leading him toward the gas station bathroom.

The town is quieter than I remember it, which is probably because of my father’s funeral today. Everyone in Silver Springs respects the Sovereign Sons. Not only does the club do charity events for the town, but they keep it safe. Which is part of the reason that the town hasn’t changed much since the last time I was here. People don’t come to town hoping tochange things because they know that it’s a pointless endeavor. That may make Silver Springs sound like a town stuck in the past, but it’s not. The citizens just don’t like the big city energy. Big companies have tried to set up shop in town before but have been shot down by the city council.

After I hand Asher his clothes and let him change, I slip into a stall and get dressed myself. I change into a black wrap dress and some simple black heels. I put my other clothes in my bag and step out of the stall, grabbing Asher’s clothes from him and stuffing them in the bag before looking at myself in the mirror.

My blue eyes look glassy from driving so long. I grab my brush from the bag and run it through my errant blonde hair, taming the long locks. My cheeks are flushed, and my normally light pink lips are a darker shade, like I chewed on them the entire ride here.Which I did because I’m nervous as hell.

I walked away from this life seven years ago. I had only recently found out I was pregnant with Asher, and I was terrified. I left without a backwards glance, and I haven’t had contact with anyone since. The only reason I found out about my father’s funeral was because of the alerts I had set up for his name. I needed to know where my father was, so we could be far away from him.

I smile at Asher in the mirror and turn around, taking his hand in mine and leading him back to the car. My old Toyota Corola has been a good vehicle forme. I bought it used seven years ago, and besides some dents from people’s doors, it’s in pretty decent shape. Even if it’s pushing two hundred thousand miles.

I open Asher’s door for him and then hurry around to the driver’s side, hopping in and starting the car. It’s ten minutes before the funeral starts. I tried to time it perfectly so I wouldn’t have to make small talk with anyone before the service or run into anyone from the club.

I pull out of the lot and down the road, driving into the parking lot of the church and stopping in a spot toward the back, surprised I even found a space. It’s like the entire town came out for this. Like my father was some kind of royalty and not the menacing asshole he was.

I take a steadying breath and turn off the car, telling Asher that we’re here and waiting for him to unbuckle himself before I drag myself out of my seat. I stop in front of him, adjusting the buttons on his black shirt and helping him tuck it in.

He scrunches his nose up making me laugh and helping to ease my nerves. I tousle his curly hair and pull him in for a hug. I tug him in the direction of the crowd of people, stopping in the last row and taking two empty seats.

I glance around nervously, seeing familiar faces in the crowd and hoping they don’t recognize me and cause a scene. Everywhere I look, I don’t see a single member of the club, though.

The roar of motorcycles permeates the air as chills run down my spine. I turn to look, like everyone else does, and see hundreds of bikes coming toward us. When they get close, I recognize the man leading the club instantly.

Grayson Williams rides in the front, in the position of the club president. My blood turns to ice. I never thought I’d see Grayson in a president patch. I honestly never thought I’d see him again. I turn back around and pull Asher close to me, taking deep breaths to steel my nerves.

The roar of the bikes dies out and the club moves through the crowd, their cuts proudly in place with the skull and crown emblem covering their backs, taking their place at the front. After the pastor says his opening address and I hear my father’s name, I tune out the rest of the service, a sense of calm washing over me.

John Parker is dead.The man who has tormented my dreams and had me looking over my shoulder the last seven years is gone.

Asher resting his head on my shoulder draws me back to the here and now as the pastor finishes the service. I watch on as eight of the club members stand and move to the coffin, acting as pallbearers. My heart climbs into my throat as they make their way down the aisle, toward us. I try to look away but it’s like a pull that forces me to look up and into hazel eyes.

---