Page 97 of Paladin's Hell

Chapter 31

Moira

I can’t remember Hellfire ever looking so angry. In thirty-six years he’s never raised his hand to me, so I don’t have any fears he’s going to start now. But the way his body’s vibrating suggests I’ll get a tongue lashing at least—and not the kind I got last night.

It’s telling, that as Hell directs me into his office, Demon’s following close behind. A good son trying to protect his mother. Well that’s what I think until we get inside. All three of us stay standing. Demon has his back to the door.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Mom?” It’s only now that I notice Demon’s furious. “You do not speak to a member, any member, the way you just spoke to Paladin. Doesn’t matter whether you like them or not.”

“You got a problem? You speak to me and I’ll sort it.” Hell slams his hand down on the table. “Respect. That’s what the club’s built on. After all these years, you should know your fuckin’ place. And that’s not telling a member who he can or can’t have sex with.”

“You disrespected Hell, Mom. Me, as well as Pal.”

I straighten my back, feeling sparks flying from my eyes. “Know my fucking place? You wonder why I don’t like coming to the compound. At home I can ignore it. Here you’re both misogynistic dicks. You might be okay taking your brothers’ sides at all times, but I’m not going to stand by and watch that lad ruin that girl the same way I was ruined.”

Demon rolls his eyes as dramatically as I’ve ever seen. “Have you watched them together? If you think he’s going to rape her, you’re very much mistaken.”

Hell chuckles, but it’s not a happy sound. “Kid doesn’t even know what he’s doing.”

An almost smile crosses Demon’s face, but clearly they’re not going to let me in on the joke.

“Sit down, Mo.” Hell waves to the chair while walking around his desk. “Fuckin’ start talkin’. What’s got into you?”

I’m still mad. My voice betrays it. “Give or take a few months, she’s the same age as I was when I came to the club.”

“Go on.” I don’t miss the look of worry that crosses Demon’s face at the tone Hell’s using. But I know my husband.

“I had hopes, dreams, Hell. I was going to travel the world or as far as I could. Instead I ended up pregnant and married. Same thing’s going to happen to that girl. She won’t have a life…”

“You didn’t have a life, Mo?” Hell asks, his voice deadly calm.

“Mom,” Demon starts warningly.

But I’m on a roll. “Of course I didn’t have a life. Cooped up with bikers. Living on the compound for years until we bought the house when Kennedy was born. Having to face up to what Blackie did every fucking day.”

“What did Blackie do, Mom?” Demon growls.

Why the fuck’s he asking? He already knows. He wants to hear it; I’ll spell it out. “Raped me. Got me pregnant. I was only fucking seventeen. He took all my choices away. WILL SOMEONE OPEN THE FUCKING WINDOW?”

Demon looks shocked at the bile in my voice. He staggers over and sits in the second chair, while Hell, used to my ways, not surprised by my abrupt change of subject, turns, undoes the latch and at last lets the cooler air in. I fan myself.

“You regret having me? You regret me?” Demon asks. It’s only then I notice his face has paled. I can throw things at Hell, not at Demon.

Immediately I try to repair the damage, to backtrack. “Of course not! It’s the circumstances I regret.”

“Mom,” his voice sounds slightly calmer, but he’s almost emotionless as he speaks. “What happened to you was awful. What Blackie did, despicable. He hurt you both. But, he was my father. If it wasn’t his undiluted blood running through my veins, I might not be the same person. I don’t think I’ve turned out to be a disappointment to you, have I?”

Somehow, his softly spoken words get through to me, more than if he’d been shouting. They both give me space, time to let clarity come to my thinking. Now it’s my turn to stand. I walk over to the open window, appreciating the breeze coming in.

“I’m sorry,” I say at last. “Look, Hell knows, you’ve probably guessed, I’m going through the change.” Demon’s mouth shuts fast as though it wasn’t an admission he wanted to hear from his mother. Hell, in contrast, parts his lips. “No, let me speak, okay? I’m getting old. I’m not the person I was.”

“You’re still beautiful, Mo.”

“Put your glasses on, Hell.” I smile at him briefly. “It’s not nice for a woman who knew she used to look good to be losing her figure and there’s nothing she can do about it. Getting wrinkles, broken veins. Knowing inside she’s drying up, unable to have children anymore.”

“You wanted more kids?” Demon asks, a worried look thrown toward Hell.

“Of course not,” I laugh, then look at him slyly. “Couple of grandkids wouldn’t go amiss.”

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