That crash stole her spark and replaced it with pain and anguish. Her injuries were so painful that the doctors prescribed her strong pain medication, and it seemed to help, giving her some relief from her misery. After she’d been home for a while, I noticed that she was taking too many pills. I figured she was just hurting, and since she was going to school to be a nurse, I thought that she knew what she was doing. A month later, when I saw her taking three at a time, I confronted her about it. She became defensive, but finally admitted that she might have a problem. As time went on, I tried to get her help, sending her to rehab and trying to find doctors that could stop the pain. But nothing worked. The pull of her addiction was already too strong. She tried to hide it from me, over and over again. Each time I discovered that she was still using, she’d promise to try harder. She’d swear that she loved me, and would do whatever it took to get better. I believed her, until the day I found another hidden stash of pills. That day, I knew I was done. She chose the drugs over the life we shared, and I refused to be a part of it.
The day I walked out of her life, I prayed that she would straighten herself out and find her way back to me. Instead, she became more and more determined to get her hands on her next fix. When her desperation took hold, she decided to give information about our club in exchange for more drugs. Her betrayal to the club was a decision we’d both come to regret. I should have known that if she would do something like that, she was way past just being in trouble… her life was in true jeopardy. I should’ve seen she was still struggling, and tried harder to help her. But in truth, it was too late… her lies would send her to her grave. All of her damn lies.
She disappeared for months. No one knew where she was. The club never lets a betrayal go. They searched for her and finally found out that she had been living in a small town just outside of Washington. It looked like she was finally getting her shit together. She’d gotten a job and had a nice place to live. She’d even had a baby. Her neighbor said Hailey was really trying, but it all fell apart. It was just too much for her, and she ended up taking the baby to her mother. My brothers found her dead in her apartment from a drug overdose. It was obvious that it was no accident. Her death hit me hard. I couldn’t help but blame myself for what had happened, and the guilt of her death was crippling. But it was nothing compared to the hurt that I felt when I discovered the mountain of secrets she had kept hidden from me.
It was several months after her death when I got an unexpected phone call from a hospital in Paris, Tennessee. A nurse called to tell me that my son had just been in an accident. My son. I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me when I heard those words. My name was listed on his birth certificate, right under Hailey’s. It was right there in black and white. I never dreamed the kid that she’d had was mine, and now I had missed almost a year of his life, because Hailey never told me about him. Instead, she took our son to her mother, asking her to protect him from me. Trying to keep her promise, Hailey’s mother sent John Warren away. She decided that Lily was the only one that could keep him safe from me and my club. Lily packed him up, and took off for Tennessee. I would have never even known about my son if it hadn’t been for his accident. Her mother prayed that I would never find out. She blamed me for Hailey’s death. In truth, she was right. Hailey would still be alive if she hadn’t been with me. I will never forgive myself for what happened. I had failed her then, but I wouldn’t fail her again. I wouldn’t let anything happen to our son. I would make sure that he had the life that I couldn’t give his mother.
I could barely keep my eyes open by the time I pulled into Lily’s driveway. It was Christmas Eve, and the house was lit up with lights, making what I was about to do feel even more impossible. I tried to shake it off. This wasn’t about me. It was about John Warren. Giving him a life like this… filled with Christmas trees and family. The life I’d never be able to give him.
Goliath lived the club life, and although his club was different, safer, he understood the danger that came along with it. He would know better than anyone why I had to do this. As VP of the Devil Chaser’s, he’d seen the hard times of living in a one percenters’ club… the uncertainty… the danger. They had put that all behind them, and his club had worked hard to become a legitimate club that was focused on the brotherhood and their families. It was one of the things that I respected most about these men. Nothing was more important than keeping their families safe. I put the car in park, and by the time I turned off the engine and opened the car door, Lily was standing on the front porch.
“What happened to you? Are you ok?” she asked. Her eyes filled with fright as she studied my cuts and bruises. I knew I looked like hell, but I had no intention of telling her what had happened. When I didn’t answer, she asked, “What are you doing here, Maverick?”
“I need to talk to you and Goliath. Is he here?” I asked her. I knew I was the last person she expected to see tonight, and I hated that I had scared her.
“I just got off the phone with him. He said he’d be here in 5 minutes. Come on in, and we’ll wait for him inside,” she told me as she turned towards the front porch.