Page 41 of A Wrench in the Plan
Didn’t help that one of those pictures could be Chry. One of those plaques could say WRENCH on it with a set of dates. Hard to think about when it was your own life, but it was harder to think about it when it was someone you really, truly cared about.
Like I was a moth and the wall was the flame, I blindly shuffled over to it. I suppose there could have been more pictures hanging there with as long as the club had been around. I didn’t want to even think about the empty parts of the wall that seemed like it was just sitting there waiting. Waiting for more pictures to fill it up.
There were a couple of Prospects on the wall. Which made me wonder if they’d been close to getting their patch or if they had just truly done something great for the club to earn their place up there. I wasn’t dumb. I knew being a prospect meant you weren’t anything. They came and they went most of the time, with only the ones able to show their worth and loyalty ever getting a patch, a place in this club. And that was the way it should’ve been when you became a part of this life. I fully agreed with it. Hell, I didn’t want my patch handed to me. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t want one real bad. I sure as fuck did. But I wanted that patch knowing that the rest of the club backed it. That the Prez backed it. That they trusted me just as much as they trusted any other brother here.
One picture had me stopping short. It was like I couldn’t take my eyes off it. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses like he had been in the image with Blade on the other wall, and it was his eyes that struck me. Struck me so damn hard that I jerked back. Then I practically jumped out of my skin when a hand landed on my shoulder.
I whipped my attention to who had touched me unexpectedly, curious as to why they were in my bubble. A part of me almost had that feeling of being caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing, but I knew that wasn’t right.
My head dipped in respect as I laid eyes on Iron, the former Prez of the club. He stepped down not long before I started coming around. Apparently, just about everyone here liked to say that LT was nearly a spitting image of the man, despite the fact that they weren’t related. You didn’t see him hanging around often, but he was usually here for the big stuff. It was clear the man cared for Chry, he looked as broken as I felt.
“Hard to see,” Iron said. “But we gotta remember them. Gotta honor them.” His chin jerked in the direction of the picture I’d been looking at, causing my eyes to go back to it. “Dade. Good man. He’d been through hell and back, and I am still standing here because of him.”
I was stunned stupid. Iron was larger than life if I was being honest. I’d seen him in passing a couple of times but never talked to him. I was a little shaken that he was talking to me now, and more so, that he was telling me this.
“He saved your life?” I asked, reading into what he hadn’t said.
“Yep,” he said with a slow nod of his head. “Lost his leg trying to get the man that kidnapped Laurel.”
I nearly gasped. Holy shit. How did I not know about this? Did Cat know? Did Chry? Oh, this was too much for me. Too big of a secret to keep if they didn’t know.
It made me wonder about everyone’s story. Were there more people here that had ones like Laurel? Like Dade? And now, like Chry and Cat?
“She made it out okay, made it back to the club. But when they went in to try and get the fucker, he had the place rigged to explode. Nearly lost Blade that night too. And we did lose a prospect.” He pointed to one of the pictures to the left of the one I’d been looking at. “Dade wasn’t the same after that, but his loyalty to the club never changed. He was a good man, just going through some shit. Can’t imagine it’s easy losing a limb like that and trying to learn how to live without it.”
“So… what happened?” I was hesitant to ask, but for a reason I couldn’t understand, I had to know.
“He took a bullet for me. Saved my life, and Petra’s.” Petra was Iron’s woman, and if I was being honest, she frightened me a little. “I’ll forever be grateful.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, turning my attention back to the picture. “I feel like I know him…” I let my words die off. It was strange, and I sure as hell couldn’t explain it. Even though I was positive I’d never seen that man in my life, he felt so familiar to me.
Iron was quiet for a moment. When I turned my attention back to him, his eyes were narrowed in my direction. It was like he was sharply studying me and seeing something in my face for the first time.
Feeling uneasy, I turned my attention back to the picture. I focused on my faint reflection in the glass.
And that was when it really got weird.
“Oh, my God,” I said with a gasp.
“You see it now, don’t ya?” His tone was too calm, giving me the impression that he’d already seen what I had just figured out.
“No,” I breathed out. “It can’t be. How fucking weird would that be that I ended up here? I-I can’t even explain this. It can’t be.”
“You didn’t know?” he asked. By his tone, I could tell he was searching for the truth in my answer. Like maybe he thought I knew and that was the reason why I was here.
“No. Honestly, I didn’t,” I said, giving him my eyes. Which was hard to do since I didn’t want to give up looking at the image of the man that was pretty damn close to matching my reflection.
“Hmmm,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Don’t think he knew either. Dade wasn’t the type to skip out on things. He would have wanted to know you and be a part of your life. He wouldn’t have ever let you feel like he didn’t want you.”
I wasn’t sure if that made it any better.
“My mom… well, let’s just say that I get the feeling like she got around a lot. She’s always been kind of a free spirit. And I think she’d moved on by the time she found out she was pregnant with me. I’m not sure she even really knew who my dad was. Just said he was probably part of a biker club.”
I studied the picture again. The picture of the man I was positive was my dad. The realization hit me pretty hard, and then it slapped me around a few more times because he was dead. I wouldn’t ever get the chance to know this man. To knowmy dad.
The conversation that I’d had with Chry rushed into my head. I’d been wrong when I told him that it didn’t matter, and that knowing who my father was likely wouldn’t change things.
An ache formed in my chest. Partially for the man I’d never get to know, and equally for the man that I might not get the chance to share this information with.
