Page 172 of Burning Ember

Dee Pierce. Decker Pierce. Dean Pierce.

Ember.

Deeds.

Pappy.

Disbelief surges through me and my pulse starts to race. There’s air everywhere around me, but I can’t seem to pull any of it into my lungs. The similarities are eerily similar.

Too similar . . .

My heart’s screamingNO!Fuck no!This isn’t real. This isn’t happening.And my head’s a tornado of images. Her freckled nose. Pappy’s white and dotted skin, at least from what’s visible under his assortment of Irish pride tattoos. Her red hair fanned across my chest. The same fiery red hair that Deed’s always has spiked in some kamikaze style, and that identifies Pappy from a hundred yard away. I think back on Ember asleep on my pillow looking like an angel. And then I see her father looking like Satan incarnate, the entire right side of his cut covered with the names of his fallen brother, but none of the names of all the brothers he’s dispatched himself.

Griz says what I can’t. He shakes his head and shoves the photos down the table. “No. There’s got to be another explanation.” Then something must occur to him, because he swipes up her birth certificate and examines it. I watch and cling to the hope that this is all one big practical fucking joke. But Griz tarnishes that spark of hope when his shoulders deflate, and he whispers, “Tessa Owens” under his breath like it means something to him.

That hollow feeling in my gut grows wider and deep like a damn abyss.

“Awe . . . fuck, Telly Girl, what did you do?”

“What?” I steal it from his hand. “Who’s Telly?”

“Tessa Owens.”

He vigorously rubs his forehead, as if he’s fighting some internal battle. When his gaze finally meets mine, it’s guarded. “I think after you hear what I’m gotta say you need to push pause, and think on this. No matter what these fuckers”—he points at Whiz and Taz—“say, you know this girl better than anyone.”

Heat climbs up my body. “Just tell me!” I shoot to my feet and start pacing the room. Run my hand over my face.

“I knew Tessa way back. Back before Cap and I split from the Greenbacks. Knew her real good because she was a brother’s old lady.”

My throat begins to close up. I stop pacing for a second and look at him. “Pappy’s?”

He shakes his head. “No. Pappy’s been with Vaughn since they were kids.”

“Then how can this make sense?”

“She was Smoke’s old lady.”

I open my mouth, but he keeps talking. “Smoke did a couple years for assault. While he was in lock up, some of the brothers talked some shit. Said Pappy was takin’ real good care of Telly, if you know what I mean.”

I grip the back of Cap’s chair so hard with both hands that my fingers dig deep into the leather. “So it’s true?” A shot of pain awakens in my chest and pulses outward.

“It’s possible,” Griz replies.

I throw the chair across the room. Shove the heavy table forward. Then panting with rapid breaths, I lean on the table. “She told me she didn’t know who her father was.”

“She lied,” Taz growls.

A thick silence descends as I shake with a kaleidoscope of emotion—doubt, shock, and so many others. Rage, because if this is true then every moment I shared with Doll, every happy memory she’s given me will vanish like smoke, mean nothing, and she’ll have fixed me, healed me, only to cut me open all over again. Faith, because as I replay every second with her, the good, the bad, and the incredibly perfect, I pray she has an explanation for the unexplainable. A reason I should believe the unbelievable. Everything I’ve come to know about her battles the doubt circling through my head and my heart, like they’re fighting an epic war.

I ask Griz, “Is this what it looks like?”

Say no.

Throwing his hands up, Taz hisses, “What the fuck more proof do you need? She’s one of them!”

My entire body strings tight. I keep my gaze on Griz and wait for his answer.

“God’s honest truth, I don’t think that girl’s got a rotten bone in her body. Maybe Pappy’s got something on her, and he’s forcin’ her to do this.”