Page 125 of Maddox
After Delaney’s whispered confession, I took to the road. It’s the only place I can clear my head and possibly what saved me after Mom died.
Her death was the harshest lesson I ever had to learn because it showed me just how weak I truly was…am.
Not only couldn’t I protecther, but I also couldn’t be the man she needed me to be for Pops and even Draven.
Back before she died, I was a typical teenager, getting into trouble because I could and acting like the tough guy, I thought I was.
I’ve never wanted to be anything, but MC and I walked through the world with balls of steel I hadn’t yet earned.
She was the only one who called me out on my brash behavior too. Where Pops and I tended to clash, she always knew when something was brewing in my head.
One of the last conversations we had, she told me to drop the suave smile and be the man she knew I could be.
I don’t remember what I did, but I do recall her soft dark eyes as she said, “A real man doesn’t hide, son.”
From what, I don’t know because I will never get the chance to ask, and the brutal burn of grief overtakes me again.
I never thought Delaney would be related to the man who orchestrated her death and knowing that the little cheerleaderwith the wide blue-gray eyes carries his blood, chills me to the bone.
Intellectually, I know that it’s shitty to blame a child for their parents’ actions but fuck me, that doesn’t mean I can ever look her in the eyes and not see Mom’s lifeless stare on that porch ten years ago.
All this rolls around in my head and although I was calmer when I drove back to the clubhouse, it all came rushing back when I was told that Delaney was at the house.
Our house. Mom’s house.
The same place Mom made her own, where she experimented with food and created crazy meals that we pretended to like and carefully remodeled, saying that she never wanted to leave.
It’s where she laid her head at night and woke with a false sense of security every morning.
It’s also where the Aces left her like a broken toy.
I know it was my idea for her to stay there but that was before she confessed her sins. It was before I knew just how tainted her blood is.
She’s touching Mom’s things. She’s alive. My mother is not.
When Pops received a text from Romeo about food, I volunteered to pick it up and bring it by.
Call it curiosity or rage but I needed to see her in that space to process it.
Now, I’m watching Delaney and Romeo get all cozy on the couch. Mom loved that couch, and she insisted on buying it even though Pops said it wasn’t comfortable.
At well over six feet tall, it probably did feel too small for his larger frame, but he gave in when she insisted.
Her beautiful face looks over them from the mantle as they argue about a stupid movie.
Images of Delaney whispering the dialogue from the horror flick we watched that long ago night pushes at the edges of my vision, but I shove that shit away.
Delaney may not be responsible for the actions of others, but she can never be more than my enemy.
It’s as simple as that. I will not fail my mother again.
“Am I interrupting?” I ask icily, my control slipping when Romeo acts like nothing is fucking wrong.
Delaney isn’t our guest. Fucker.
When Romeo invites her to the table, she avoids my gaze as she sits down and tentatively pulls the pizza over. Her shaking hands bring me back to the warehouse and the brutal burn of my rage boils over.
She felt so tiny in my arms. She carries the blood of my fucking enemy.
