Page 19 of Taming Raptor

Some things never change. With a chuckle, I pulled the denim over my legs and folded the waistband over so I could keep them up. The second they were situated, my mother flew into my arms.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, Adrien,” my mother whispered as she held me close. I pretended I didn’t notice the traces of gray that highlighted her usually dark hair. Seeing the little signs that showed my mom had aged was a reminder of how long I’d been gone. I chastised myself for that. She sniffled and I knew she was crying. My heart ached at the sadness she carried because of me and my prideful decisions.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been home sooner.” That was the truth. For no other reason than that my mother always believed in me. She loved me unconditionally, without expectations or disappointment in my choices. Closing my eyes against the weakness threatening to flow, I placed a kiss on top of her head. That wasn’t completely true. There was another reason for my regret—I wasn’t able to see my grandfather before he died. “I’m sorry about Pops.”

“Your grandfather was always proud of you, you know,” she murmured. That ache behind my lids burned down to my throat. Both because of the loss and because she didn’t include my father in that sentiment. Mom had been my grandfather’s pride and joy. With six brothers and her being the only girl, he had doted on her. So had my uncles. His loss had to have been crippling for her.

“I should’ve—” My mother leaned back and stopped me with a finger to my lips. She tilted her head. The sorrow in her tear-filled eyes was damn near debilitating and I hated myself a little for being part of the cause.

“Do I wish you wouldn’t have stayed away so long? Yes. But you know what? It doesn’t matter. We can’t live our tomorrows carrying the regrets of yesterday. What a miserable existence that would be.”

How did I explain to her that it was purely my own hurt and stubbornness that had kept me away? If I came back, I knew there was no chance of avoiding my cousin. There was always the chance I’d run into Falina’s bitch ass, too. And fuck even after all these years, if I was to see the boys knowing I had no rights to them—fuck, I couldn’t even imagine it without my chest caving in.

“You know they aren’t together.” Spoken as if she could read my mind.

“Don’t, Ma,” I warned. I didn’t want to talk about it. “It doesn’t change what he did.”

“You should talk to him. Let him explain,” she tried again, but I shot her down.

“There’s nothing to explain. I came home from getting my ass shot in combat to find my wife and kids shacked up with Evan. Then I get slapped with a restraining order and formal notice telling me my boys weren’t mine, so I had no rights to them. What more is there to explain than that?” She winced at my harsh tone, and I sighed. “Ma, what he did was unforgivable.”

“But—”

“No. Not now. Not ever. I’m here to see you.”

She gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and stepped out of my arms. Then she patted my chest. “It’s your lucky day. I made your favorite this morning.”

The corner of my mouth lifted in a half-hearted grin. “I thought I smelled apple-cinnamon bread when I came in.”

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I glanced around. The kitchen had been remodeled, but it still was my favorite place to be. “Dad on shift?” I asked, when I realized there was no one else in the house.

She nodded. “He’ll be sorry he missed you.”

I snorted in disbelief.

“Adrien, don’t. He misses you too.”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that,” I muttered. Obviously, he hadn’t told her what he’d said. When I’d gotten out of the Army, I refused to come back because of the betrayal from my own blood. My father had then told me if I wasn’t coming back, then don’t ever come back, because I was dead to him.

We visited for the next hour or so and consumed the rest of the loaf of bread before my phone rang. When I saw that it was Phoenix, I motioned to my mom and held up my phone. “I need to take this. Let me step out front.”

A confused and questioning “okay” was her reply.

Before I got outside, I answered. “Yeah,” I said as the screen door closed and I paced the front porch.

“Hey, VP. Voodoo said to call you to let you know we need you. We’re at the Blue Broomsticks place meeting with Voodoo’s witch.”

“I’m on my way.” No more needed to be said. The moment he said, “We need you,” I was there, because that’s what we did. We were loyal and dependable when it came to brothers. No questions asked. It was a loyalty I once thought I shared with my family as well.

When I went back inside, my mother’s expression was resigned. Pretty sure she knew I was leaving. Her next words confirmed it. “Will I see you again before you go?”

“Yes. I promise.”

Her smile was brighter than it had been all night. “Good, maybe you can bring whoever you’re here with,” she suggested.

My mother was one of the most understanding and supportive people I knew, but I wasn’t sure she was ready to see exactly what my life entailed. If I had to guess, I’d say she had no idea I was in a motorcycle club. The rare occasions I called her, I never discussed much about myself. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her I was part of a group of “gifted” men who made it their mission to take out society’s trash.

“We’ll see,” was the best I could give her. Besides, from the look on her face, I think she had the wrong idea. I was definitely not here with a woman. That had me wondering what my mom would think of Cookie if she met her. As quickly as the thought came, I shoved it in a box. That wasn’t ever going to happen—for more reasons than one.

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