Page 77 of Jake's Angel

“I wanted to show you something. I think you and I need to talk about a few things, not club-related, but about life. About your mom and me.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I didn’t want to do it around everyone else.” I can’t see his eyes clearly as he seems fixated on the road ahead, but there’s a slight shakiness to his voice.

Is he nervous?Surely not. What would he have to be nervous about?

“Yeah, sure, I guess.” I sit back against the headrest and watch the lines in the road as they pass under the wheels. We ride in silence for a short while until we come to a long gravel driveway leading up to a beautiful house.

There’s a three-car garage attached to a long, covered walkway leading to a wooden porch wrapping around the sides of the house.

“Where are we?”

“This is what I wanted to show you. This is our—or rather my—home.”

He parks and we get out. I follow Gabe up the stairs leading to the front door. The exterior of the house is a mix of deep cherry logs and dark gray brick. Inside the entryway is a long hallway. It leads into an open living space.

Gabe walks through the hallway into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge, and pulls out a bottle of water.

“Would you like something to drink?” He calls from down the hall. I’m taking my time looking at the pictures lining the walls.

“Water is fine. This is your house? You and my mother lived here?” I glance around the hallway, brushing my finger along the edges of the frames as I walk by. There’s a picture of Liz and Caleb, his arms draped over her shoulders, kissing her temple while she holds onto his forearms with her eyes closed. I smile at the way they love each other.

There are other pictures of the club—Jake, Mack, Hawk, and the others—all on their bikes, laughing. I can’t help but think Hawk said something stupid, and that’s why they’re all laughing. Over the last few days, it seems to be the pattern of things around here.

“Uh, yeah. We all did for a little while. You hungry?” He asks as he continues adding to an array of food to the countertop, searching for something.

“I thought we lived at Liz and Caleb’s. Liz told me it was Maggie’s room. The one I’ve been sleeping in. It’s decorated with things Maggie liked and photos of the three of us.” I tell him, walking further into the house.

“Mom had a room made-up for nights when the club parties ran late. Maggie didn’t want to stay at the clubhouse with you, afraid the noise would keep you awake.”

“Or I would be traumatized by the things I might see.” I grumble to myself.

I round the corner heading to the kitchen to get the water I’d asked for, when something catches my eye.

Above the fireplace, in the middle of the wall, is a black-and-white picture of the three of us—my mother, Gabe, and me. I’m swaddled in a polka dot blanket in my mother’s arms. They’re looking down at me, both smiling, their faces so full of love. I forget about the water and make my way to the fireplace.

On the mantel, there are several pictures lined up in chronological order. Me in a pink princess dress with a tiara sitting atop a pony ride for my third birthday. My kindergarten performance, complete with the teacup costume I wore as I sang the ridiculous song. My first pageant photo at eight. Middle school promotion. Dance recitals. Sadie and I leaned up against Loretta in the school parking lot after she returned with the car from her sixteenth birthday party.

But the last one, the one on the very end, is a picture of me on my eighteenth birthday when Gramps gave me a pair of diamond earrings that used to be my mother’s. I reach up and feel the rough edges of the studs currently in my ears. I never take them off.

“You were watching me?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. “How did you get these?”

“Mack. Sometimes Russ. They would take pictures on their phones and send them to me. I wanted to be a part of whatever you were doing, even if I couldn’t be there myself. Of course, I still missed quite a bit with their work schedule being what it is, but this seemed the best way to for me to be a part of your life where no one got hurt.” He grabs a knife, cutting board, and a large skillet and places them on the center island. “It wasn’t my intention, but I guess we both got hurt anyway.”

“Has anyone else seen these? The club? Jake?” I ask.

It would crush me to find out he’s been lying about knowing who I am.

No one could fake the pain I saw in his eyes. He couldn’t have known.

My chest tightens at the thought.

“I don’t invite people here. Ever,” Gabe says as he moves around the kitchen. I’m too invested in the photos to bother to see what he’s doing behind me.

“All our functions are held at the clubhouse or my parent’s place. I meet everyone there. The only people allowed up here are Mack and my parents. I don’t like having people in what was your mother’s place.” A part of me understands his position. If he really loved her, as everyone has said, I wouldn’t want anyone coming into a place full of her memories, either. I’d want to keep them to myself.

“If you wanted to be part of my life, why didn’t you just tell me?” I turn and move toward the kitchen, sitting on a stool watching as he continues collecting the things he needs.

Removing his cut, he moves over to the sink to wash his hands.

“I wanted to. You have to know I never wanted things to go the way they did, but I didn’t see any other choice.”

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