He was pacing again. A caged lion, ready to fight. He hadn’t slept the night before, not really. Even after she went down on him a second time in the middle of the night, he still hadn’t slept more than an hour or two.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, coming to a stop before her.

Kara stood up slowly and went to him, running her hands up his muscular chest. His hands slowly came around her waist and pulled her against him.

“I know we’re not related,” he hedged, looking down at her. “But does it seem like we are? Is it weird to you? Shit, I should have thought about that last night before I shoved my cock down your throat.”

Kara laughed and Johnny finally smiled, relaxing slightly. “It is weird,” she admitted, “but not in an incestuous way, more in an ‘I can’t believe it’ way, and don’t worry, lover boy. We aren’t related, regardless of the fact that we might share a brother.”

Johnny grumbled a laugh and kissed her soundly. They were so lost in each other that they didn’t hear anyone else come in the barroom until they heard a throat clearing. They stopped kissing and turned their heads to see who was there but otherwise didn’t pull apart.

“Sister,” Marcos greeted, nodding at Johnny.

“Candela, thanks for coming,” Johnny said, holding on to Kara a little tighter.

“Kara said she wanted to talk. That you wanted to talk.” Marcos nodded.

Kara smiled at her brother. “I did. We do.” She nodded at Johnny, rubbing her hand against Johnny’s chest before she slowly pulled away from him. She knew he was anxious, was trying to mask that, and having her near helped calm him, but her brother would not appreciate having a conversation with her if her boyfriend was all over her. “Let’s take a seat.” She motioned toward one of the many tables in the barroom.

Kara had made up a plate of cheeses and meats, a charcuterie board in a sense, not that she’d ever call it that in front of those big tough bikers. They were tootoughfor something as froufrou as charcuterie. She placed a bottle of Macallan in the center of the table with three glasses and called it good. They weren’t picky, and fucking Marcos was lucky she was even feeding him.

Marcos took one look at her little setup and shot her a tentative smile. He could see the olive branch for what it was. She was still pissed at him, still didn’t know what to think of his hiding the truth from her her whole life, but she could understand the reasoning.

And she was about to turn his whole world upside down.

So why not a little whisky with his meat and cheese?

“What’s going on, li’lManita?” Marcos grumbled, his voice thickly accented.

“As you know, I’ve been dating Johnny.” She started slowly, glancing away. Unable to meet her brother’s gaze, she looked down at her hands. She picked up a piece of salami from the platter and twisted it in her fingers. “Along with Kevin and Derrick,” she added, needing to get it all out on the table.

Marcos grunted, shifting in his chair. She saw his legs shift under the table but didn’t look up at him to see his thoughts.

“They came to me shortly after Mac was arrested and asked for my help,” Kara said, finally looking up from the mangled salami slice. “Mac was arrested on charges of racketeering, embezzlement, money laundering, and fraud, accused of using Case Holdings to do it.”

“Shit.” Marcos groaned and shot a look at Johnny.

Johnny just nodded once, his face stony.

“Long story short,” Kara sighed, knowing her brother wouldn’t care much about all the other bullshit that was related to her firm, “I’ve been investigating Case Holdings for the last eight months or so because the name kept coming up in billing reports at the firm. After hiring a forensic accountant and seeing a tech guy and digging through years’ worth of case files from forty years ago, we know that Case Holdings was founded by Mac Taylor and my father together. We know that they were best friends and in love with the same woman, probably both engaged to her. We know she cheated on them and lied to them and that she was pregnant.” Kara paused and stared at her brother.

Marcos shifted again, eyes narrowing. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that Mom was involved with both Vince and Mac forty years ago. I’m saying that she cheated on them with the other and got pregnant. She told Mac it wasn’t his child and told Vince it was his. But she got a paternity test done that showed the opposite. When I was digging in the files from back then I found the paternity test.” Kara spoke slowly, unable to physically say the words she knew she needed to speak.

How the fuck was she going to tell her brother that his father was Mac Taylor? She tossed the mangled salami onto the table and grabbed a napkin. She twisted the napkin around her greasy fingers, trying to clean them and distract herself.

“Kara.” Marcos snapped, glaring at her. He was tired of her pussyfooting around. She needed to spit it out already.

She grabbed the bottle of Macallan and quickly poured out two fingers into each of the three glasses. She looked up at Johnny, who had been watching her warily. He seemed relieved for the whisky though.

Kara looked at Marcos as she slid him the third glass. “Mac Taylor is your father,” Kara said evenly, without preamble. But then, the whole fucking conversation had been preamble, hadn’t it? She took a long pull from her glass and met her brother’s gaze.

Marcos froze, his hand clutching the whisky glass. The muscles in his jaw worked as he ground his molars, his eyes flashing with rage. “Say that again?” He growled.

Tears welled in Kara’s eyes. She knew any talk of his father was a sore subject for him. Growing up, he’d always acted so tough, but she knew how it bothered him. Knew he would disappear for hours anytime she brought it up.

“It’s true.” Johnny grunted, running a hand over his buzzed hair. “I saw the paternity papers myself.” He reached behind him to the table where Kara had set the file folder with the test results. Johnny handed them to Marcos.