Page 97 of Spinner's Luck

My stomach twisted into a tight, ugly knot.

“That’s you and her, right?” Lucy pressed, her voice sharp, laced with accusation.

I stared at the photos, my mind scrambling to make sense of them, toplaceher in my past. Then it hit me like a fucking truck, slamming into my ribs with the force of something Ishouldhave seen coming.

“Fuck,” I snarled, my grip tightening on the album. “She’s that bastard’s daughter.”

Lucy frowned. “Who?”

I exhaled sharply, every muscle in my body locking up. ‘The man my mom married after my dad died.” The words burned like acid. “He had a daughter. Thea.”

Saying the name tasted foreign, like something I’d long since buried and forgotten.

“I only met her three or four times before I took off. She lived with her mom. I never thought about her again after I left.”

Lucy’s face twisted in horror, realization creeping in like a slow, inevitable poison. “Spinner… then why wouldn’t she tell you?” Her voice dropped, quieter now, edged with surprise. “It’s seriously fucked up that she wants to be your boyfriend.”

A fresh wave of rage crawled under my skin, burning hot and relentless. I clenched my jaw so tight my teeth ached.

“I don’t fuckin’ know what’s going on,” I bit out. “But I know one thing—my mom is stamped all over this mess.”

Lucy stiffened beside me, something shifting in her expression, something clicking into place.

“What does your mom look like?”

I didn’t answer right away. I flipped through the album, turning to the last photo, then held it up for her to see.

“This is her.”

Lucy’s eyes widened, her whole body going still. “I knew it,” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.

A chill snaked up my spine. “What do you mean, you knew it?”

She exhaled sharply, her grip tightening into fists at her sides. “That woman tried talking to me at a bar a week ago.” She turned, locking eyes with me, her expression hard as steel. “Why the hell would she bother me?’

A cold, humorless laugh ripped from my throat.

“Because she’s a controllin’ bitch.” I slammed the album shut, the sound loud in the heavy silence. My jaw flexed, tension crackling through my body like live wire. “That’s why Ashlynn won’t leave me the hell alone. My mom’s pushin’ us together.’

The realization hit like a slow, creeping poison, curling around us, tightening its grip.

Lucy’s gaze stayed on me, her expression troubled. “Then you better figure out what the hell she’s up to before this gets worse.”

I nodded once, a slow, deliberate motion.

Because Lucy was right.

And something told me this was just the start of what that bitch had done.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

“DAMN HER,” Isnarled, pushing past Lucy into theclubhouse. I needed to get the hell out of there before I put my fist through a damn wall or someone.

I grabbed my keys and stalked toward the exit.

The moment I stepped outside, the humid night air did nothing to cool my temper. My bike sat where I left it, and I yanked my helmet on before throwing a leg over the seat. My hands gripped the bars, knuckles turning white as I took a slow breath, trying to rein in the fury clawing at my insides.

It didn’t work.

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