Page 58 of True Bastard
I didn’t know how long I rode for, but when I pulled up into my mother’s driveway, I wasn’t surprised to find her sitting on the porch steps waiting for me. Somehow, she always knew when I needed her. And fuck me, did I need someone to make sense of what the hell was going on with me.
Cutting my engine, I got off my bike and walked over to her.
“Cerberus called me. He had a feeling you might be stopping by.”
“Fucker’s got a big mouth.”
My mom smirked. “Yes, he does, but he means well.”
Scooting over, she patted the concrete step. “Sit down and tell me what’s going on?”
“Where’s Anna Joy?”
“At her karate lesson with Scythe. So we are alone.”
I dropped down beside her, the cool concrete pressing against the back of my legs. For a few moments, I just breathed, letting the quiet settle in while my mind raced. My mom waited patiently, her hands folded in her lap, eyes gentle but sharp in the porch light. Finally, I said, “Everything feels messed up. I keep telling myself I don’t care, but I can’t shake this heaviness.”
She reached over, squeezing my hand, and for a second, I let myself lean into her comfort. “Maybe that’s the point,” she murmured. “Maybe caring is what makes you stronger, not weaker.”
“I’m too much like him, Mom. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
Releasing my hand, she looked off into the distance and sighed. “You are nothing like him, Joshua. You never have been. I raised you. You are my son. He was the weak one.”
I looked down at my hands, wishing there was an easy way to believe her. “It’s hard, Mom. Every time I see his shadow, I feel it in me. Like I’m fighting something that’s already part of who I am.”
She brushed a stray lock of hair off my forehead, her touch gentle and grounding. “You get to choose what you carry, Josh. The past isn’t a chain—it’s a lesson. You’re stronger than you think, and you’re not alone in this.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. The porch light cast long shadows, making the yard look almost unfamiliar—the world felt smaller, tighter somehow. My mom’s voice, steady and unwavering, cut through the doubt. “You haveyour own heart, Joshua. I’ve seen the way you fight for those you love, even when it’s hard. That’s strength.”
“I claimed her in front of my brothers today. I didn’t mean to. The words just stumbled out.”
“The man I know does nothing he doesn’t mean to. How did Kyllian react?”
I smirked. “She basically told me to go fuck myself. Said she wasn’t anyone’s before she stormed off, pissed again.”
My mom’s lips curled into a wry smile. “My guess is Kyllian doesn’t enjoy being told what to do or who she belongs to. She’s got a fire in her, just like you.” She nudged me playfully, her tone softening. “You two clash because you care—don’t let a few harsh words fool you. Sometimes, honesty comes out messy.”
I shrugged, feeling the weight of her words settle somewhere deep. “Maybe. I just... I wish things didn’t have to be so complicated.”
She squeezed my shoulder, anchoring me in the moment. “Complicated means you’re living, Josh. It means it matters.”
I leaned forward and hung my head. “God, Mom. I keep messing everything up with her. Every time I think I have a handle on her, she changes the script, and I have to start all over again. Why can’t she just do what she’s told?”
My mother laughed. “Because she’s a woman, Son. Kyllian has a mind of her own. She’s not a club whore who will bend and do anything asked of her. Kyllian is strong, independent, and knows what she wants. And if I’m right, Kyllian’s past won’t allow her to cede control to anyone. Not even you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I saw pain in her eyes, Son. I saw the bruises marring her face that day when I invited her to lunch. I’m betting Kyllian hasn’t had a good life. The girl is scared, Joshua. Her family is dying all around her. She’s in a ruthless clubhouse with men who don’t really give a damn about anything, andthen there is you. Instead of talking to her, you tried to break her even more. And before you say anything, your brothers are worse gossips than women. I know what’s been going on at the clubhouse.”
“That’s because she’s a survivor, Mom,” I said, the words heavy with a truth I could no longer deny. “And I’m the last thing she needs. She needs to get out of this life. Out of this town. Out from under my shadow.”
My mother looked at me, her eyes filled with a wisdom that transcended her years. “And you believe that?” she asked softly. “You believe that running from what you are, from who you are, will make either of you stronger?” She squeezed my hand, her touch a familiar comfort. “Joshua, you can’t outrun your past. But you can choose what you build from it. And from what I’ve seen, Kyllian has a strength that mirrors your own. You clash because you’re both fighters. You both understand what it means to be forged in fire.”
I leaned my head against her shoulder, the weight of the world pressing down. “But, Mom, she hates me.”
She chuckled, a warm, melodious sound that filled the quiet evening. “She hates what you represent, Joshua. She hates the pain you’ve inflicted. But I saw something else in her eyes, too. Something deeper. A flicker of curiosity. A recognition, perhaps. She sees the man you are fighting to be, not just the Bastard you’ve been forced to become.” She paused, her voice taking on a more serious tone. “You’ve made mistakes, Son. We all have. But you haven’t let them define you. And neither will she if you give her the chance.”
The idea of her, of Kyllian, had become a constant ache, a dangerous distraction from the hardened reality of my existence. The Brotherhood was my family, my life, my everything. Yet, she had cracked my granite exterior and exposed a raw, untamed landscape beneath. Now, I was standing on the precipice of achoice that felt like a gamble with my very soul. I knew I couldn’t let her go. Not yet. Not until I understood the fire she’d ignited within me, a fire that threatened to consume me entirely, or forge me into something stronger than I’d ever imagined.
