Torn (30 page)

My eyes scraped nervously over Eli’s body, his rigid posture poised for a dangerous fight. The muscles of his arms bulged while pinning the creep against the bar, his eyes boring holes into him as if they held the power to incinerate him where he stood. Jasmine’s breath tickled the tiny hairs on the back of my neck, and I knew she was speaking to me, but I couldn’t focus on anything except the man I loved. A man who could be killed right in front of me. And it was all my fault. We should have left the second we saw the bikers enter, but we played it off as simple paranoia.

I was responsible for jeopardizing Eli again, first with his heart and then with his life. Only this time, he might not survive.

I was so tuned in to watching my son’s father, I almost missed what the man with the gun said.

Almost.

Turning my head in his direction, he smirked, taking his attention off his buddy while he gauged whether or not I’d heard him correctly. Surely, he couldn’t have said what I thought I heard.

‘Otherwise, you could have ended up fuckin’ your sister.’

What exactly did he mean by that? I was an only child, had been my entire life. My mother would have told me if I had a brother. Unless she doesn’t know. But that’s impossible. The only logical scenario was if my father had…if he was…but how would he…?

Thoughts pinged so rapidly inside my brain, I’d become dizzy from the overload.

Pushing off my seat, I walked closer to where all the men stood. Gripping Eli’s arm for support, I leaned in to the man who was still holding the gun, although thankfully, it was at his side and not pointed at Eli’s head any longer.

“What did you say?” I only possessed enough mental energy to speak those four simple words. Instinctively, I knew my whole life was about to change, so I braced myself for his answer.

With a flick of his head, most of the men walked away, dragging with them any woman who was hanging around strictly out of curiosity. Quite a few of them were still shooting daggers at me and Jasmine, though.

A certain calm seemed to take over, the initial threat to our lives a thing of the past. Walking toward me, the man stepped underneath a dim overhead light, allowing me to really look at him. Something very familiar yet foreign screamed at me. His high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes were just like mine, although his nose and mouth bore no resemblance at all. His greying hair was short, shorter than most of the men who accompanied him to the bar. If I didn’t know any better, he looked like any other average man in his late fifties, attractive and able to blend in with the masses. Maybe that’s done on purpose.

The ability to blend in was probably their biggest advantage.

Tucking the gun into his waistband, he extended his arm toward the back hallway. Jerking his head at us that time only made me more nervous. Clearly, he wanted us all in a more private setting—to do what, I had no idea. Leaning in to Eli, he hurriedly wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. Positioning his body in a defensive stance, he spoke, his words gravelly and full of threat. “We aren’t going anywhere with you. You have to be out of your mind, especially after you put a fucking gun to my head.” His heart was hammering away inside his chest, but no one except me noticed. To everyone else, Eli Warner looked in control, ready to throw down with the best of them if it meant protecting me.

I hated myself for putting him in yet another situation he had no choice but to follow through with.

Before the man I believed to be my father spoke again, someone pushed past him and blocked him from our view. The biker who had stepped forward was extremely handsome, although just as threatening as the rest of the men. His dark hair was also cut short, a style many of them seemed to prefer. The patch on the front of his jacket said ‘President’, which was fitting since he seemed to demand respect with a simple glance.

“Eli,” he addressed, placing his hand on Eli’s shoulder as he leaned in to his ear. The man whispered something to him, something I couldn’t hear, but whatever he said made Eli relax a bit.

“Fine,” Eli responded, pulling me impossibly closer before turning around and addressing both Mike and Jasmine. “Mike, take her home,” he demanded, before nodding gently at his dear friend.

“Fuck that, man. There’s no way I’m leaving you two here alone.” Mike stepped forward but before he could protest further, the president of the club caught Mike’s eyes and a silent exchange passed between them.

Without another word, Mike grabbed Jasmine’s hand and led her away, her head twisting over her shoulder and mouthing call me before he dragged her out the front door.

Who the hell is this guy?

I didn’t have time to contemplate further before we were ushered toward the hallway, then to a small office at the end. Closing the door behind us, Eli and I turned around to find the president, as well as the man who might just be my father, making their way toward the oversized couch in the corner of the room.

“Sit,” the leader of the club demanded, his tone kept light so as not to alarm me any more than I already was. Glancing at Eli, I noticed he didn’t seem as wound up as he was moments before, although his demeanor was still on point, prepared for anything to happen.

“We’ll stand, thanks.”

“Up to you,” the older man said, moving toward the desk. Sitting on the edge, he braced himself for what he was about to say. Locking eyes with me, eyes which mirrored my own, his lips parted and he told me what I feared to be true.

“Kalista…I’m your father. I never intended for you to find out, but here we are.”

There was no sorrow or disappointment in his voice. There was no happiness or expectation, either. His tone was flat, emulating his expression. He was simply stating facts, facts that had no bearing on him or his life but had flipped my world upside-down.

I think I’ll sit down after all.

Separating myself from Eli, I took a seat in the middle of the couch. Hanging my head low, I tried to find the strength needed to ask the questions I’d wanted answers to my entire life. “How?” I uttered.

“I think you’re old enough to know how,” he said, his tone no longer harsh and dangerous. “I think your boy is proof of that.”

“Cutter…” the younger man warned. “Take it easy on her. She didn’t ask for this.” A hint of sympathy rushed forward, but it did nothing to dispel the harshness of the situation.

The mere mention of my son put me on a dangerous edge. Shooting up from my seat, I crossed the room until I was face to face with my father. “How do you know about him?” I rushed. “How do you even know about me? You took off before I was even born.” The air around us suffocated me.

“Yes, I did leave. I told your mother it was over and I didn’t want anything to do with either of you.” His words were so matter-of-fact.

“Because you were married and already had a family,” I reminded him.

“No. Because I wasn’t about to drag Justine and an innocent child into this life. Make no mistake about it, I loved your mother. We had a passionate affair for two years, but I knew I had to end it.” Looking as if the past caught up to him, remembering a time from another life, he quickly averted his eyes. But I saw what he tried to hide from me—sadness.

Walking to the corner of the room, he said, “That’s when she told me she was pregnant.”

The words spilled from my mouth before I could filter them. “And what? You felt guilty about abandoning us so you’ve kept tabs on me? Do you think I’ll ever want any kind of relationship with you after the way you treated my mother?” Tears welled behind my eyes, but I refused to allow him to break me. “You want me to call you Dad now?” My tone was sarcastic and filled with hurt and anger. It was a lot to absorb, and I wasn’t sure I was doing so well with all of the information.

Taking a few steps toward me, he grated, “Hear me now, girl. I don’t want any kind of relationship with you. If it was up to me, you still wouldn’t know about me, but you just had to waltz yourself into my club’s bar.” His eyes remained glued to mine while he continued his surprising revelation of a speech. “I stick by the decision I made back then. It’s safer for you and your family that way.” He continued explaining when he saw the confused look on my face. “We have many enemies, and they will use any weakness they can to cut us down.” He drew a breath before exposing his soul. “And you my dear are a weakness.”

As if snapping himself out of a delusional, emotional trance, he shook his head and walked toward the door. “Don’t ever come back to this bar. And don’t ever try to contact me. Ever.” His back was to me the entire time. “I don’t exist to you, just like you don’t exist to me.” He disappeared before I could say anything else.

****

Barging through the front door, I screamed my mother’s name over and over until she came running down the front stairs. She was trying to cinch her robe closed, all while doing her best not to tumble over her hurried feet.

“Oh, my God, Kalista,” she cried. “What’s wrong?” She reached me in record time and tried to touch me but I backed away, the look on my face telling her not to try again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” She knew it was big, and that she was somehow at fault, but she still had no idea what I was raving on about.

“Kalista, sweetheart…calm down,” Eli soothed, but it was no good. My adrenaline pumped fiercely through me, coating over all of the other emotions I refused to recognize.

Turning fierce eyes on him, I shouted, “I won’t calm down! She has to answer me. Once and for all.” My eyes shot to hers. “No more goddamn lying.”

“Honey, what are you talking about?”

“My father!” I roared. “Why didn’t you tell me about my father?”

All of the air deflated from her lungs. She stumbled toward the kitchen island, bracing herself so she didn’t fall over. Before she spoke, we were interrupted when Holden appeared at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide in concern. For who, I wasn’t sure. It was a rare occasion when Holden had seen me angry enough to shout, so I could only imagine what was running through his head.

“Hey, buddy,” Eli called out before walking toward him. “Why don’t we go back upstairs and let your mom and grandma talk some more.”

“Okay,” he whispered before glancing back at me to make sure I was okay. The only thing I could do was curtly nod.

Once they were out of sight, I laid back into my mother. “How could you not tell me my father was part of a dangerous motorcycle club?” I spoke so quickly, cutting her off every time she tried to respond. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to go your whole life not knowing who your father is? To feel like there is a part of you that’s missing, and to have the answers at your fingertips, only to be shut down every time I brought him up?” She straightened her posture, glaring at me as if I had two heads. “Well…do you?” I shouted again.

“Are you serious right now?” she asked, trying her best to remain calm. “You, of all people, do not have the right to come at me like this. Did you not do the same exact thing to your own son? Hide him from his father, never giving him any of the answers he deserved?”

I stopped pacing as soon as her words registered.
All of my outrage dispersed, my guilt and regret sheathing me once again.

She was absolutely right. I’d done the same exact thing to Holden.

Same. Exact. Thing.

The only difference was that Eli was a good man and he never even knew his son existed until I was forced to move back home.

“Oh, my God,” I whimpered, collapsing onto the nearest seat. Holding my head in my hands, I cried. “I d-did do the s-same thing,” I hiccupped. Hurt washed over me. It was all too much, and I had no idea how or what to feel anymore.

ELI

W
hen the yelling had finally subsided, I decided it was safe to emerge from Holden’s room. He’d asked me why his mom was yelling, and the only thing I could tell him was that it was between her and her mother, and when she wanted to tell him, she would.

He shrugged and focused back on the game he’d been playing. I guessed my explanation was enough to placate the boy.

Walking into the living room, I saw Kalista lying on the couch, her hand slung over her eyes. She was crying, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to take away her pain.

“Eli,” Justine called. “Come here, please.” Once I was close enough, she reached for my hand. “Please, stay here tonight. With her.” She motioned toward her daughter. “She needs you to try and work through this, her own decisions making everything worse.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, not being privy to their fight, but there was no way in Hell I was going to leave her. “Absolutely. I’ll look after her.” There was nothing left to say, so she kissed my cheek and disappeared up the stairs and back to her room.

As I stood over Kalista
, giving her a few more minutes to succumb to whatever emotions plagued her, I thought of what the night’s events meant to her. Growing up she’d often talked about her father, wondering
who
he was, if he thought about her…if he was even alive. Only to come to find out he was closer than she knew. Hiding in the background, his own justifications shielding him from his own daughter her entire life.