Page 174 of Malice and Surrender
“Yeah, I do,” I said, tapping my finger on the glass. I wanted to hate Chase, maybe pick him up and toss him through the glass, or I thought I did. Seeing him as a decent man wasn’t something I wanted, but he made it very fucking difficult.
“Don’t kill him, but Mannix filled me in on your old man a while back,” Chase said, and my eyes snapped to his. Just the thought of my father made me want to put my fist through the wall. “I knew him or knew of him. Jackson McMillan, otherwise known as Razor, was an enforcer for the Wild Dogs. Not many of them around anymore.”
My hand tightened on the glass as I glared at Chase. The anger that had simmered was beginning to rise. Why the hell was he telling me this?
“Oh yeah, I wouldn’t know. After he got my mother killed and I watched her bleed out on my living room floor, he got himself tossed in prison for life. That was about when I stopped giving a shit.”
Chase rubbed at his eyes. “Listen, man, I’m no shrink, and I wouldn’t even profess to be highly intelligent most days, but I’ve done some shit that has paralleled your past.”
“What the fuck are you trying to say that I think of you as my Daddy? That’s why you being an asshole burns my ass so much? Cause I can tell you right now, I’m never fucking calling you Daddy Chase.”
Chase laughed hard, the sound coming out like a bark as he started to cough. He sat the drink down and continued to laugh hysterically. Fucking idiot. I smirked and then chuckled. Okay, it was kind of funny.
“Oh shit, please, for the love of God, never say that around Tanner. He’ll fucking start calling me that out of spite,” Chase said, and I sobered with the mention of Tanner.
“We need to talk about him,” I said. “The guy has no loyalty to the club. To you, yes. The club, he would watch burn for all he cared. I don’t really feel like having to kill one of our own again anytime soon, so could you talk to him or beat the shit out of him? I’m not picky as long as he stops acting like he’s a fucking eighteen-year-old punk.”
“I fucked up with Tanner. He had his run of Ashen Springs. He fucked every housewife there, partied hard, and was never locked up for any of the shit he did. I made him untouchable, and now he’s….”
“A fucking immature punk. Despite his eagerness to help kill, he’s a wildcard in any situation which will get someone killed. His open lack of respect is rubbing more than just me the wrong way, and that is not doing him any favors.” I sighed. “Look, I like the kid, but he needs to grow the fuck up. Chase, he will get kicked out or a bullet between his eyes. If you want to stay in control, then take my advice, don’t give him the one percenter until he proves he won’t abuse the power that comes with it.”
He grated on my nerves and used this place, the people, and his friendship with Chase like a get-out-of-jail-free card. If I had to kill him, I would, but I didn’t want to. Chase nodded but didn’t say any more on the subject, and I was done talking about Tanner.
“I’m sorry for what happened with your mother,” Chase blurted, dumping cold water on my head all over again.
I gulped down the whiskey, loving the burn on the way down. That sensation told me I was still alive. The only other time I felt that way was holding Raine. She made me feel grounded and worth something. “Let’s not talk about my mother, okay?”
“Fine, but I need to tell you something because I owe you. It’s the least I can do for everything you’ve done to hold this place together and keeping my ass from being tossed in jail for the shit I did.” He rubbed his forehead and gulped his drink. Chase looked me in the eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t like what he said.
“It was my father that ordered the hit on your mother,” Chase said, and it was like the air was sucked out of my chest. I didn’t move or blink. There was only the pounding of my heart loud in my ears.
“What the fuck did you just say?” My voice was low and lethal as my muscles shook.
“Snake, you know how this shit goes. People on both sides make decisions for their clubs, and there is always collateral damage. From what I know The Wild Dogs sent your father to kill my brother, but he wasn’t killed, and my father retaliated. The Lost Souls enforcer at the time did the job, and my brother rode shotgun on the back of the bike.”
“You fucking knew this MC killed my mother, and you let me join?” I burst from my seat, and my hands clenched as I pictured slitting Chase’s throat. “You let me stay for a year and never opened your fucking mouth,” I yelled. “I must really look like a sucker to you.” I held my hand out toward the desk. “Did you sit up here laughing at me as you sent me to clean up your fucking mess?”
Every part of me was ready to kill, all I saw was red, and it was taking every bit of self-control I had not to jump on Chase.
“Whoa. Whoa, no. It wasn’t like that. Let me explain before you try to kill me.” Chase held up his hands. “And before you ask, no one else knows. Not Beast, Mannix, Roach, or anyone else.” Chase glanced at my hand, and I realized that I’d pulled my knife. I was still tempted to use it but eased myself down into the chair. I wanted answers before I decided if I was going to kill him. His eyes told me he wasn’t lying, which was why I hadn’t already slit his throat.
“I only started to look into your family history after I learned they were MC legacy. I asked Mannix a few questions about you, and he told me what happened with your mother, but it didn’t click right away.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This all fell in my lap just before I left for Canada, and I’ve warred with telling you the entire time I was gone. Some shit is better off being left buried.”
“Then why the fuck are you telling me now? Why take that chance?” I growled.
“Because I thought you deserved to know. This way, at least you got to see my brother killed. It’s a small thing, but in life, the little moments help us move forward,” Chase said calmly.
“What did you smoke a bunch of that strong Canadian weed while you were up there? What’s up with the introspective, laid-back act? Where the fuck is the Chase that was snorting coke like it was going out of style, burning the world down, and leaving me to clean up your mess?”
The corner of Chase’s lip curled up before he polished off his drink. “All I can say is I have a second chance at life. The baby coming helped me pull my head out of my ass. That version of me is not who I want my child to have as a father.”
“I’m not sure I’m buying this act. It’s easy enough to say you want to do better, but it’s a whole other thing to keep it together long-term. What assurance do we have that you won’t disappear again at the first sign of trouble? Spend another ten years hiding in a small town or go on a drug-induced rampage?”
“There is nothing I can say to convince you. I can only show you with time. And, for the record, I’m not saying me or your father are saints, but he tried to do right by your mother when it came to revenge. He stormed our clubhouse and shot it up good, killed three members before he ran for it and got caught by the cops.”
“I’m confused now. Are you saying you’re going to do better by the club or running?” I smirked as I sat back in the worn chair. At one time, I would’ve wished it swallowed me whole, but not anymore. Raine coming back into my life changed all of that.
“Always the sarcastic jackass, but I guess I deserve it. I’m going to prove myself to you and the rest of the club. I need to earn respect. I fucked up. I ran off and haven’t been the Prez or the leader I need to be. I’m just asking you to give me the opportunity to make good on my word.”
