“I don’t know if I can.”

He cups my face in his hands. “You can.”

I close my eyes, dropping forward and cupping my face.

“What have I become?”

~*~*~*~

“Jesus, is she okay?”

I can hear my father’s worried voice as Ford carries me up the stairs to my room.

“She broke tonight. It needed to happen, but she’s taking it hard. She needs to rest and then we can deal with this.”

Deal with this.

Deal with the horrible, icy person I’ve become.

I don’t deserve them. I don’t deserve Penny.

My mother would be ashamed.

“She looks terrible,” Candy whispers. “Jesus.”

“She’ll be okay,” Ford assures her.

“Penny is asleep. Put her in the bed with her. It’ll help.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Ford questions.

Candy scoffs. “That’s her baby girl, the only thing she has left. She’s not a monster, Ford. She’s a broken woman. Put her in the bed with her daughter.”

“Fine.”

I hear the sound of doors opening, and then I’m placed down onto the bed. Tears burn under my eyelids again when I feel Penny next to me. I reach out, taking her tiny hand in mine and she automatically rolls towards me. I cry hard and heavy as I tuck her into my arms.

I’m so sorry, Penny.

I’ll fix this. I’ll fix it all.

~*~*~*~

“You were right,” I whisper, dropping my head so he can’t see the despair in my eyes.

“We all fuck up, girl.”

I still don’t look at him. He was right. He knew what I was; he saw it even before I did, and he called me on it. Now I have my father’s money tucked back in my arms, even though he never had to give it back. He didn’t have to but he did. He might be the new president of a massive biker club, but he sure as shit isn’t a bad man.

“Look at me.”

I lift my eyes and stare into his, which are very beautiful.

“There are times in my life I’ve wanted to do shit, bad shit, and something has come along and pulled me out. Don’t let it get you down. Instead, learn from it. Become a bigger person. A better person. You have control of your own life now, so take it.”

“I have a child to him,” I say, and his eyes widen just slightly.

“And he’s still alive.”

“Only because you saw what I was before I did.”

His lips tip up in one corner. God, he’s handsome. “Maybe I did. I’ve seen a lot of monsters in my life, girl. There ain’t no monster in your eyes, just a fuckin’ hurt girl lookin’ for a way to heal her heart.”

I shake my head. “You know,” I begin, “I’ve heard a lot about this club, a lot of bad things, but you’re not . . . you’re . . .”

“I’m a bad man; don’t doubt it. I’m back here for my own sinister reasons. I seek revenge just like you. I’m just not cold about it, there’s a big difference. My Uncle Howard fucked this club, and he fucked a reputation that I now have to try and fix. I was thrown into this life, and I’m embracing it because it’s all I know. You ought to give that a go.”

I smile weakly.

“Now go. Pretend you never met me, pretend this never happened.”

I nod and turn back towards the car, grateful it’s over; grateful he called the hit off. Grateful he’s a good man. When I reach my car door, I stop and turn, staring at him leaning against his Harley, arms crossed over a massive chest.

“Do I get to know your name?”

His lips quirk.

“Do you want to know my name?”

I stare at him, really stare. He’s rough, he’s rugged, he’s clearly had a hard life, but this man has warmth somewhere in his soul. I know it because he saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life. So yes, I want to know his name. No, I need to know it.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

He takes hold of his bike and throws a leg over it, and then he turns and stares at me. The loud rumble of his bike fills the quiet space and just before he takes off, he tells me, “My name is Jahred Ciston, but you can call me JC.”

With that, he leaves.

And in his dust, I whisper low. “Thanks, Jahred.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KATIA

I kneel down in the soft, damp earth. My fingers drop to the dirt that still hasn’t settled. Flowers are now wilting over a headstone with beautiful script. I close my eyes, breathing in the fresh air surrounding the gravesite where my mother lies – we brought her home to be buried. I haven’t come to see her. I haven’t cried. Today I’m here; today I’m going to start making things better.

“I’m so sorry, Momma,” I whisper, my voice too hoarse to make an appearance. “I screwed so many things up. I took you away from your life because I was too scared to face mine. I messed up in so many ways and when you passed, I went into a dark place. I love you so much; I’m so sorry I never told you more. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I just . . . I just need you to know how much I love you.”

“She knows.”

I turn my head to see my father standing, hands in his pockets, staring down at me.

“I thought you’d be here,” he says softly, stepping forward. “When I woke up this morning you were gone.”

I turn back to the soft earth again. “I haven’t come to see her. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own business and vengeance that I haven’t even come to see her.”