Haunt (Bayonet Scars #6)

I pass Chel on my way to Z and place a kiss on top of her head. She smiles up at me the way she always has— like a sister to a brother— because that’s what we are to one another. Hate seeing this woman drop to her knees and take dick for no reason, but nothing I can say or do stops her. Best I can do is make it damn clear to my brothers that if they hurt her, they answer to me.

“We still on for Tuesday?” I ask. She shoots me a smile and confirms that she’s not ditching my ass, nor has she ratted me out to her sister. I tell her she’s a good woman and continue on toward my son.

When I reach Zander, I nudge his shoulder with my elbow and nod my head at the crowd. In the center, Stephen and Izzy— Chief’s kids— are dancing around with their older, half-sister, Elle, cheering them on. Even Xavier, Chel’s son, is dancing along. Elle’s doing her best to ignore the kid exists. Nic jumps in with them, Robin in her arms, and she dances like a damn fool herself. Duke smiles on from the sidelines before he grabs Alex and drags her into the crowd of lunatics dancing around to no music. I catch sight of Jim as he clasps Ryan on the shoulder. The father-son duo share a rare smile before Ruby pulls Ryan into the dancing crowd and Jim heads off to his truck where he turns on a classic rock station and blares it. I turn away to see Ryan standing in the happy crowd, with a scowl on his face, still not moving. He keeps shaking his head at his mother, but she doesn’t give up.

“A pretty girl asks you to dance, you don’t turn her down, son.”

“It’s weird,” Zander says quietly. I barely hear him over the music. “They all like each other.”

“We’re a family,” I say. I don’t address the fact that not all my brothers get along very well. Getting along and liking eachother is nothing compared to the bond and loyalty we all have for eachother and our patch. I don’t have to like these assholes to love them.

“Mom and I didn’t do much stuff with the club back home,” he says. I’ve been waiting for my boy to talk to me for months now. He’ll talk about anything and everything except what his life was like before I came along. It’s never set well with me, but I tried to push and it only ended in a fight. “The guys would come by the house to fix the sink or something. Maybe even to yell at me when mom yelling didn’t do any good, but it was never like this.”

“I’m sorry.” The words feel like they should be easy to say, but they’re not. He shrugs them off regardless. “You never should have wondered about your dad.”

“I didn’t. Mom always talked about you. Sometimes it would make her cry, but she wanted me to know I had a dad. We should have been here. She kept you from us.”

“No,” I say firmly. “Son, I wasn’t a good man. Your mom left me so she could protect you and give you a little slice of normal. You don’t have to like every choice she makes, but she’s your mom. The shit she does is always to protect you.”

“It didn’t work,” he says sardonically. “Other moms bake cookies and shit. My mom cleans her guns for fun. My friends’ parents stopped letting them come over to the house because the woman is crazy.”

Amber’s teaching me to pick and choose my battles, so I don’t tell him not to swear. Not that I give a fuck. It’s just a word, but Holly’s had complaints from two of his teachers about his language. I almost marched down to that school and told them to pull the sticks out of their fucking twats. Probably wouldn’t help the boy make friends though.

“Yeah, but she’s crazy hot when she gets going.” My voice is wistful which makes the boy cringe and me laugh.

“No, I mean like one time the bus driver didn’t make sure I got off at the right stop and he didn’t know where I was when mom called the school. Mom kept yelling that she was going to gut the dude if he got me lost again. Another time some kid’s mom wanted me to apologize to her kid after he pushed me, so I decked his ass. Mom didn’t like that much either.”

Zander-- my son-- doesn’t look at me as he speaks. He just continues with his story about Amber. He calls her mom-- as he should-- like it’s the most natural thing in the world while I sit here and can’t even fucking breathe because he’s here and he’s real and he’s mine. And he’s talking to me. He calls her mom all the time, but he doesn’t fucking talk to me, so it hits me extra hard this time.

“What’d your mom do?” I ask. I already know she went crazy on the bitch just from the way Z says the woman talked to her, but I like hearing his voice. I’m starting to figure out what his voice sounds like when he gets excited or when he’s angry but refuses to show it. This tone though, it’s sad which kills me.

“Mom showed the lady her Forsaken tattoo and told her it means that she belongs to Wyatt Strand and even though the lady doesn’t know what that means now, she better pray she never has to find out. That’s the first time I really remember hearing her saying your name.”

And I’m gutted.





CHAPTER 21




April 2016

Mancuso’s downfall

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