Claire’s face screwed up with confusion. “Well, that’s a strange way to treat family.”

It must’ve been strange for Claire to label it as such, especially considering Claire’s experience with her own extremely dysfunctional family.

“I organized her house and schedule. When she had visitors, she’d tell people I was on staff. She never once referred to me by my name, let alone admit I was related. I just figured she was embarrassed by me.” I shrugged, shrugging off the twinge of hurt feelings I’d long ago set aside, but now felt remarkably fresh given the fact she’d given birth to me.

At first, during the early days of my employment, my feelings had been hurt. I’d thought working for Louisa would bring us closer together. Ironically, in retrospect, I’d thought she’d be like a second mother. I’d thought we’d talk to each other about topics other than hiring a new driver, replacing the tile in the blue damask bedroom, and her various nail and hair appointments.

But working for my aunt had only served to segregate us into the roles of employer and employee. I’d never grown attached to Aunt Louisa because she didn’t want me to be attached. She’d distanced me in a way that had felt purposeful.

“Huh…” Claire sat back on the bed, crossing her arms. “That is so bizarre. The way your momma spoke just now she made it sound like your aunt loved you most in the world.”

I sighed again. I was doing a lot of sighing. I wasn’t ready to tell Claire that my aunt was actually my birth mother. I wasn’t ready to talk about Louisa because I didn’t know how to feel about her. So, once again, I pushed my feelings away.

I decided to tell Claire the truth minus the maternity reveal. “I never figured her out.”

“But she left you all that money.”

“Yeah. She left me everything.”

Claire tilted her head to the side, her bright eyes assessing my face. “Is that why you look so forlorn? Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty about your aunt’s money?”

I shook my head, biting my lip so I wouldn’t speak the truth about my mood. If I’d learned anything from this disaster it was to be considerably more guarded with my heart. I’d always thought that if I were open to love, then love would find me. As it turns out, if you’re open to love, then heartbreak finds you and leaves you naked in a cabin with no electricity or indoor plumbing.

But Claire knew me too well. Her eyes narrowed on my lip and she tilted her head the other way, her assessment becoming full-on scrutiny.

“Jessica, what are you hiding?”

I shook my head faster.

“What’s going on? You’re miserable and it isn’t your aunt and it isn’t inheritance guilt. Something has happened.”

I shook my head even faster, but now Claire was a blur of red hair and white skin, because my eyes were filling with tears. And, crap, I just sobbed.

She reached forward and pulled me into a hug, stroked my hair and held me tight. “Goodness gracious, what is going on? You’re shaking.”

I grabbed fistfuls of her shirt and cried on my friend. Cried and cried. I don’t know how long I cried, but it was a good while and it was embarrassing. She hushed me and spoke soothing words. Her shirt at the shoulder was soaked by the time the tears ebbed.

“Can you talk now? Can you tell me what happened?”

I opened my mouth to speak but hiccupped instead. I needed a moment, or an hour.

Therefore, I straightened away and grabbed letter number seventeen from my desk; I handed it to her, and managed to squeak out, “Read this. I’m going to wash up,” then hurried from the room.

I took my time in the bathroom, scrubbing my face, blowing my nose, giving myself a mirror pep talk. I felt a bit less pathetic when I stepped back into my bedroom. Crying and being sad is like an upper respiratory infection; snot makes me feel pathetic, and the absence of snot makes me feel less pathetic.

“Oh, Jess. I’m so sorry.” Claire looked both sympathetic and confused when I entered the bedroom. She crossed to me and squeezed my shoulders. “I feel like I pushed you into this thing with Duane. But I just can’t imagine… I would never have… He left you in a sheet?” She sighed, befuddlement winning out over sympathy.

I finally felt stable enough to explain the entire situation, so I did. We sat on my bed and I told her everything—about how I’d called him from Texas, how I’d tracked him down to the cabin, how we loved each other, how he was using honor to abandon me to my empty dreams. When I finished Claire was staring at me, her fingers halfway covering her open mouth.

I shrugged, not sure what else to do. “It’s all right. I’ll be fine.”

She nodded, frowning, and it was clear she didn’t believe me. “Fine. You’ll be fine. You pack a bag, come stay with me tonight.”

I gave my friend a small smile. “That actually sounds really nice.”

Claire’s frown intensified, then she tsked. “Well, come on. Let’s get a bag packed. We’ll stop by the Piggly Wiggly on the way for some ice cream.”

***

We were just pulling out of the store parking lot when my phone rang. I glanced at my screen, but didn’t recognize the number. I stared at it for one ring longer then swiped my thumb across the display and answered, figuring it was likely a wrong number.

“Hello?”

“Jess? Jess, is that you? Jess, it’s me, Tina. I…your help…real big trouble. I need you to…totally fucked…and they found…”

“Tina, wait a sec. I can’t understand you, you’re cutting out. Where are you?”

I heard some static on the other line, then she said, “…the Dragon and you have to hurry. I stole this phone and…”

“Are you at the Dragon Biker Bar? Do you need me to come get you?” I glanced at Claire, found her watching me with alarm.

“Yes! I need—”

But that’s all I got, because her side clicked twice then the line went dead. I brought the phone to my lap and pulled up the recent calls list. Not only did I not recognize the number, the area code wasn’t local.

“What was that all about?”

“I’m not sure. It was Tina and she sounded frantic. I think she was calling from the Dragon Biker Bar, at least she said yes when I asked. She wants me to come get her.”

“She wants you to go to the Dragon? To pick her up?”

“Actually, she sounded like she was in trouble.”

I took a deep breath, staring at my phone for a stretch, trying to figure out what to do. Then I dialed Jackson’s cell number.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Jackson. I’m going to ask him to meet me there.”

“At the Dragon? You want to go to that hell hole?” She sounded incredulous and a little panicked. The bar served as the club headquarters for the Iron Order. Since her daddy was the club president and her momma was his old lady, Claire had spent much of her early adolescence at the infamous biker bar with the MC members and club girls.

If memory served, she hadn’t seen or spoken to her folks since marrying Ben McClure years ago.

As I waited for Jackson to pick up, I tried to calm Claire. “Listen, don’t come. Just take me back to my house and I’ll drive over on my own.”

“The hell you will. You’re not going there by yourself.” She glanced in her rearview mirror and started her car. Backing up, she maneuvered the small parking lot. “But we’re stopping by my house first, I need to get something.”

“Claire, take me home. I know that place doesn’t have good memories for you.” Jackson’s phone clicked over to voicemail, so I hung up and decided to text him about what was going on first.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened and I noticed her eyes were a bit wider, but she dismissed my suggestion. “No. I’ll go. It’ll be…fine.”

I didn’t know if she was trying to convince me or herself.

CHAPTER 26

“Never travel faster than your guardian angel can fly.”

? Mother Teresa

~Jessica~

As I waited in Claire’s truck for her to grab whatever she needed from her house, I called Jackson again and this time I left a voicemail. Then I called my daddy and did the same. I rationalized it was sufficient they know where we were. It wasn’t unusual to get their voicemail, especially when they were on duty and driving around the mountains; and most especially on a holiday weekend when all the drunk drivers were celebrating by smashing into trees.

Finished with my messages to the law enforcement members of my family, I looked up just in time to see Claire coming out of her house. She was carrying two handguns.

Wordlessly, she opened the driver’s side door, leaned over me, and put them both—and an extra magazine—in the glove compartment. Then she buckled her seat belt, started the car, and backed out of her driveway. Meanwhile I was staring at her the whole time wondering what the heck she was thinking.

About two minutes down the road I finally asked, “What the heck are you thinking?”

Her eyes flicked to mine, then away. “I’m thinking I’m not going near that place without a gun.”

“Claire!”