Page 12 of Keg's Revelation

Placing my hand on my chest where my heart was, I could almost physically feel its hurt. The beat may have been regular, but I wonder if the organ was left with a crack.

I steeled my spine, blew out a breath and grabbed the handle on the driver’s side door. Sitting in the car surrounded by silence wasn’t going to change what happened or what was still to come. And it was a little too late to run.

“Ry, Reagan, come on. Let’s go inside. The food is getting cold.”

Ry unbuckled his belt, then got out of the car. “I’m not hungry,” he said without looking at me. I watched as he walked to the porch, climbed the three steps, then walked inside.

I opened Reagan’s door and helped her out. “Mommy? How can Ry have two daddies? Do I have two daddies, too?” Reagan’s questions at least gave me insight on why she hadn’t spoken on the drive home. She’d been too busy wrapping her seven-year-old brain around everything she’d witnessed.

Reaching back inside the car for the food, I thought of how I could explain it to her. “No, sweetie, you only have one daddy. Ry, well...he... has a daddy and I guess a stepdaddy.” I raised up with the food bags in hand and looked down at Reagan, her eyebrows were drawn together, and she was chewing on her lower lip. God, I was screwing it all up.

“Then, I want a stepdaddy.”

“Oh, sweetie, it doesn’t work that way.” I closed the car door, and with my free hand, pulled my daughter to my side. “Let’s go inside and eat, and I promise I’ll try to explain it so you can understand. Okay?”

“Alright,” Reagan said and sighed as we walked to the porch. “The man scared me when he yelled and hit the car. Is he a mean man?” Reagan whispered, and I barely made out what she said.

Stopping our progress, I turned Reagan to face me, then stooped to her level. “Men get mad and raise their voices. They even hit stuff sometimes, though they shouldn’t. And a man shouldneverhit a woman period. You get mad and yell at Ry when he picks on you, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“So you understand that just because Reed was mad and raised his voice, it doesn’t make him a bad person?”

“Were you scared of him?” Her small voice broke my heart.

“The noise when he hit the car made me jump. But it wasn’t because I was afraid of him.”

“Oh.”

I wanted to reassure Reagan and tell her she could trust Reed never to physically hurt her. But words hurt, too. Reagan needed to decide for herself where Reed was concerned. He’d scared her, and it would be up to him to prove to her that even angry he’d never harm her or anyone else.

“Come on, sweetie.” We continued walking and when we reach the steps to the porch, the front door opened and my grandmother stepped outside.

“Everything okay out here?” I wondered if she’d ran into Ry or gotten one of her feelings. Growing up, it was uncanny sometimes how shejust feltsomething was wrong.

There was no reason to avoid her question, my eyes surely showed signs of my recent crying. “I made a house call today.”

“Alright...”

“At the Haven MC’s clubhouse,” I said as I reached for the handle on the front door. Reagan went inside after I pushed it open. “And Reed was there.”

“Oh, honey,” Gran said as she and I stepped inside, shutting the door behind us.

“May I watch TV while I eat?” Reagan asked as we entered the kitchen and I set the bags on the table.

“Sure, sweetie.” I pulled the food out of the bags and followed Reagan into the living room. While I set her up at the coffee table, Gran brought a drink in for her.

Once Reagan was settled, I returned to the kitchen, pulled a chair out, and sat. After pouring two glasses of tea, Gran joined me at the table.

“Go ahead and say I told you so.”

“You know I’d never do that.”

“Why not, Gran? From the start, both you and Gramps were against me keeping the pregnancy from Reed.” I rubbed my forehead as if it would relieve the headache that was beginning.

“Yes, we were.”

“Yet you stood by my decision. In a way, I wish you would have pressured me into telling him. I was so naïve to think I would be able to keep it a secret. And even more that I’ve kept it for this long. Now, when I look back, it was harder work trying to keep it from him every time I came to visit than if I’d told Reed, and he hadn’t cared and stepped away. Which was one of the reasons I told myself to justify not telling him. I’m not sure I would have been able to take his rejection. Then again, at least it would have been his choice not to be involved. Do you know how many times I’ve asked myself if the decision to tell him now was because Derek is gone? If he was still living, would I have kept the truth hidden?”

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