Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
The kind of thing that happened on the silver screen but never in real life.
“Yes,” Jen said with a nod. “The agency wasn’t confident they could find out who your birth father was, given your mother’s… circumstances.”
A harsh laugh left Rachel. “You can say it. Given the fact my mother was a whore.”
“Rach—”
“I know!” She lifted her hands. “I shouldn’t judge. And I have no problem with safe and legal sex work, but it sounds like this was more of a get-high-and-screw-a-guy-for-twenty-bucks-in-a-back-alley kinda situation.” She shrugged. Not what she had expected when she’d first asked her adoptive parents about her birth mother. And not exactly the way a teenager wanted to learn they’d been conceived. Her adoptive parents had told her with sensitivity, of course, but it’d still been a crushing blow. So much so that she hadn’t gone sniffing for information again.
Until a few months ago.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Jen gave her a side hug as they walked.
“Anyway, the adoption agency did some digging and was able to find out the name of my father. Even though my bio mom left it off the birth certificate, she’d told the doctors, so it was in her medical records from my birth.”
“And through your research, you discovered you have an older half-brother.”
And here’s where it went off the rails so she took a breath. “Who, as it turns out, was convicted of brutally murdering a twelve-year-old girl and sent to maximum security prison.”
Jen stopped walking and grabbed Rachel’s arm. “Holy shit. For real?”
“Yep.” Rachel nodded. “And if you think that’s insane, get this. After he spent thirteen years in prison, thirteen years, the courts overturned his conviction. Turns out a detective framed him. He’d been innocent the entire time.”
Jen’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Her shoulder-length blonde locks wafted around her face with the light breeze. “I-I don’t even know what to say.”
“I know, right?” They resumed walking. With a shrug, she stuffed her hands in her hoodie pouch. “It’s too crazy. That kinda stuff happens in books or movies, not in real life. And not my life.”
“So he was released from prison?”
“Mm-hmm.” Their feet crunched over recently fallen leaves. “He lives in Florida, the same town I was born in. And get this, he’s the president of an outlaw motorcycle club.”
“Okay, this is just nuts. An outlaw motorcycle club? What, like Sons of Anarchy or Mayans or something?”
“I think so, yeah. Based on my research anyway.”
Jen whistled. “Your laser focus is starting to make sense now. You spent the entire day researching every single morsel you could find out about this guy, your brother, and his motorcycle club thing.”
“I did.” All damn day.
“And?”
“And I think I want to meet him.”
“Really?” Jen stopped walking again. The incredulity in her tone should have irked Rachel, but she knew it came from a place of love.
Rachel kicked a rock down the walking path. “Really.”
“I don’t know, Rach. It sounds risky.”
She glanced up into her best friend’s worried blue eyes. “From what I could find, he seems like a decent guy. Rough around the edges, sure, but not some depraved psycho. And he has a girlfriend who’s a dog trainer. If dogs like him, he can’t be bad, right?” A nervous giggle escaped.
Of course, Jen saw right through her bravado, so she gripped Rachel’s shoulders. “Sweetie, I get that you want to find a connection to your biological family, but do you think it’s a good idea to put yourself in a situation where you’ll be around a group of potentially dangerous men?”
Even though Jen made a valid point, the part of Rachel that was so sick of her anxiety and fears balked at the question. “I haven’t had a panic attack in ages,” she said, aware of her petulant tone.
“Rach…” Jen knew her well.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She hadn’t had a panic attack because she never put herself in any situation out of her tiny comfort zone. “It’s a risk.”
Jen raised an eyebrow.
With a huff, she rolled her eyes. “All right. A huge risk. But he’s my brother, Jen. He’d have no reason to hurt me.”
Though she didn’t say it, Rachel heard Jen in her head, reminding her none of the men she feared had any reason to hurt her. But that was the thing about trauma responses, they weren’t always predictable or logical.
“I need this, Jen. I feel like I’m floating through life with nothing to tether me to the earth.” Chuckling, she shook her head. “I know that sounds crazy, but having a sibling, someone whose blood I share? I don’t know… I feel like it will anchor me somehow.”
Jen sat on a park bench then tugged Rachel’s arm until she sank down next to her. “I’m sorry you feel that way, and I can’t claim to understand it.” Jen came from a huge, loud family full of busybodies where she never had a moment of peace. “But I know I’d be lost without my family, so I do know it’s important. But, Rach, you’re not alone. You have your adoptive parents.”