Page 8 of Ruptured

Elbows on desk, she covered her face. She didn’t want to know any more about the second generation.

Especially Johnnie. Already, she knew more than she wanted to know about him.

She shuddered, wishing she’d never unearthed the truth about Hopper’s daughter.

Her husband talked little about his birth mother or the woman who’d raised him. It was his grandfather who held his esteem and that motherfucker was the absolute worst; Johnnie didn’t care. Kendall doubted her husband would’ve lost sleep if he discovered his mother had been just as bad. Try as she might, she couldn’t shove away the knowledge that Johnnie wouldn’t care that his aunt had been a murdering psychopath or how much Christopher still placed Patricia on a pedestal. Revealing his mother’s true character would cause a seismic shift in his worldview and crumble her pedestal and what little faithhehad left in the world.

Meggie was the reason Christopher hadanytrust. Yet, it, like peace and hope and love, was so fragile, destroyed in an instant and sometimes never regained.

Family, though? He was all about family. The lessons his mother began, Meggie fostered. One went hand-in-hand with the other. Discovering a long-lost daughter would shock them, but Christopher would never turn his back on her.

Johnnie? Most definitely.

He’d be even angrier with Kendall that she’d uncovered an illegitimate child. Her husband believed in perfection. It was one reason it had been so hard for him to accept her mental illness. He’d see an illegitimate child as a blight upon Logan’s name.

Kendall cleared her throat to stop the tears that always threatened lately. She considered calling Mortician, then decided to wait until laterafterher next run-in with Johnnie. Mortician offered words of wisdom and soothed her devastation. For years, she’d leaned into his strength to stay strong herself. To save her family, she had to reach deep inside herself and find herownstrength. If Johnnie detected a bit of weakening, he’d pounce.

Though she tried to fight fire with fire, her husband had been a beast to her for the past few weeks. Without those who truly cherished her, she would’ve lost her mind, not just hover on the verge of a breakdown. Johnniehadto know about his daughter. The people who’d raised her—her aunt and uncle becauseof course—lived right up the road in Camas. At any point in time, Kendall, Johnnie, their kids, or anyone else in their family, could’ve ran across the girl.

Some of their children’s friends lived in Camas. Kendall had clients who resided in Camas.

How could Johnnie’s child live so close and absolutely no one knew about her?

It was mind-boggling. Of course, everything about the saga of the club, Logan Donovan, and his grandsons boggled the mind.

Kendall still hadn’t discovered the club’s true owner, but she’d discovered a world of other secrets. Ones she wished could’ve remained buried. She was doubting she’d ever solve all the mysteries. No one had an inkling to Marion’s identity, so finding Big Joe’s actual will grew less likely with each passing day.

If she uncovered who alerted Bash to the possibility of Meggie’s ownership, maybe Kendall could discover more information. Pages of letters, titles, deeds, receipts, and other documents either gave her a fucking headache or led her on a wild goose chase.

Or left her reeling. Like with Johnnie, Hopper, and Jana.

More pressing issues drew Kendall’s attention away from the possible existence of her stepdaughter. She held onto the hope that the few letters that mentioned the club girl, Hopper, giving birth to Johnnie’s daughter, had it wrong. Kendall hadn’t run across a birth certificate yet, and that was the one document she hadn’t been able to bring herself to research.

A tear escaped and she sniffled. She lifted her eyeglasses just enough to slap away the wetness on her cheeks. Before she left for the day, she’d call Bailey to make sure everything was settled with Rule.

Kendall just didn’t have the energy to check right now. The hold-up on getting her nephew checked into a facility concerned her. Sending him to California, where Molly should’ve gone, might be their only option. As always, they needed a place with the best staff who allowed them a modicum of control. HIPAA laws protected Rule’s privacy but just as the Death Dwellers could locate almost anyone, enemies might be just as resourceful.

Though Father Wilkins would have temporary guardianship of Rule, Christopher would want to visit his son eventually. No one needed an attending physician to bring in CPS, fearing for Rule’s safety because he had an outlaw biker father. Kendall, Zoann, and Bailey were banding together, pooling their resources and different skill sets, to find the best place for their nephew.

Bailey stepped up to the plate and helped during this desperate time. Kendall had been fully prepared to send that bitch packing if she let Meggie down right now and facilitate matters. As a renowned psychologist,Baileywas needed. Kendall wouldn’t deny that. Luckily, her former friend straightened up enough to lend her expertise.

Grabbing a Kleenex, Kendall blew her nose, then threw the dirty tissue in the trashcan on the side of her desk.

She might accept Bailey back into the fold if the woman stopped hurting Mortician, who, besides Meggie, was Kendall’s best friend. Mortician had accepted her before anyone else and she hated to see him in so much pain because the woman he’d married had lost her fucking mind.

Kendall stared at the phone. Even if Bailey ran into problems and didn’t call, Zoann certainly would. Maybe Kendall should call Father Wilkins. She snickered.Jazzman, according to his club moniker. The little motherfucker was as crooked as a fucking nine-dollar bill. Fuck,Twisterwas straighter. Of course, the priest was a member of an outlaw motorcycle club. He was infamous for his shakedowns.

Yet he seemed to truly care about Meggie’s kids, especially Rule, who’d shown a marked interest in priesthood. Father Wilkins’s patience and kindness shocked Kendall but wonders never ceased.

He needed money. Kendall knew that. In this case, he deserved it. She intended to set up accounts for Freya Jones. Kendall had suggested Gypsy…Goddamn, she didn’t know Gypsy’s last name. She was just Derby’s old lady. That was the woman’s entire existence.Derby.For whatever reason, Christopher shot the idea down and didn’t want her with Rule.

Kendall looked at her office phone again, willing it to ring since her cellphone remained silent. She wanted Johnnie to call her. It didn’t matter which line. She wanted to finally be enough for him and prayed he’d realize he didn’t have to compete with Christopher or Mortician.

Johnnie washerhero, and she wanted that to be enough. But he didn’t want to hear those words from her if she didn’t agree to follow his explicit instructions. “Stupid, entitled, selfish fuckhead,” Kendall said around another sob.

He knew a lot about Bash and the club’s history, even more than he’d revealed while they’d been away. He refused to helpherwhen he was demanding she helphim. Teamwork was teamwork.

“I hate that I can’t stop loving you.”