Page 47 of Wreckage of My Life
“Just tell Wrecker what the fuck you know,” Sully instructs. “After that, we’ll come up with a plan for all of us to get out of this shit in one piece, okay?”
“Okay, okay,” Shortie jumps off the bed and starts pacing the floor again. “I came across an email. And then I went digging,” he starts whispering now, his eyes going around us like to see if anyone’s eavesdropping. “Your pops,” he continues, calling my father by the name me and Wyatt always have, “he planned the whole thing with Sugar.”
My brain almost short circuits at this piece of information. Deep down, I had already connected all the pieces information I had available. However, the one thing I don’t know is the motive.
“She’s his mistress,” Shortie’s eyeballs pop out of his head for dramatic effect.
“You mean used to be,” I ask for clarification.
“No, no, no,” he shakes his head in distress. “Is. As incurrently.”
That makes sense, I nod to myself. That night when I got chased while on my bike, she was there. She didn’t pull the trigger on me, but she was there with the person who did. And she was okay with it. They wanted me dead on that night.
“Five years ago, when she got pregnant,” Shortie brings my attention back to our conversation. “They thought it was his,” he whisper shouts for dramatic effect. My pulse is racing in my veins, and I got all sorts of scenarios running through my head right now. “He paid her to leave, have an abortion. But she waited too long. Then he kept on paying her to stay away.”
This whole thing is not making any sense to me.
“But he’s mine, we got a paternity test…”
“He paid the lab off. I don’t even think they ran the tests,” Shortie shrugs in confusion.
“But why…”
“He wanted the boy to be raised here,” Sully cuts me off. “He didn’t think it’d look good if he just claimed the kid as his own. And he thought it’d be funny to make your mom raise his bastard and not know it. He said it’s karma at work. So, he devised this whole mother fucking plan,” he starts laughing now like he’s telling me the best joke. “He’d force you to claim the kid knowing you got no choice but bring him here and have Arlene raise him,” he jerks his head toward the door like he’s pointing to Ma who’s out there with… Jesus fuckin’ Christ,my little brother?
“Why kill me off then?”
“Because then the kid wouldn’t have anyone but him and your ma. They’d raise the boy as their own. He’d have his son after all,” Sully shrugs like it’s a no trainer.
Fuck it all to hell, how is this my life? And Ma… She finally got Ethan to call her Grandma. This is going to destroy her.
“There’s more,” Shortie is bouncing on his feet now, almost excited to share everything that he knows. Seems like he’s been bottling it all in for quite a while.
I jerk my chin at him. “Spill.”
“He took a paternity test as soon as you got here with the boy. He thinks nobody knows, but I saw the email with the results,” Shortie is positively giddy with excitement now.
“How long have you been spying like that on everyone, Shortie?” I can’t help but ask.
“Never mind that,” he waves me off unapologetically. “He didn’t get the results he wanted.”
I didn’t realize how scared of all this I was until his words allowed me to release a huge breath of relief I’d been holding.
“He’s not the father?”
“This is some Jerry Springer shit,” Sully’s laughter booms around the room.
“He’s not the father,” Shortie completely ignores the comment. “But he really wants to be, more out of spite now. He’s still gonna try to take you out and keep the kid. He said it’s only fair to your mother.”
If I had any doubt in my mind before about leaving the club, it’s all gone now. I need to get the fuck out. In one piece.With my son.
“We want to help you,” Sully interrupts my racing thoughts. My eyes jump to his, trying to assess the vibes he’s putting out.
“Who’swe?”
“Me, obviously,” he chuckles. “Shortie here,” he points at the man in question who is now watching me with a mix of fear and respect. “And Puck.”
“Help me with what?” I grind out through clenched teeth. If this is a trap, I’m gonna be dead, no matter what.
