CHAPTER FIFTY

 

Seven was home and safe after an exhausting trek through the jungle delivered her to a helicopter which materialized out of nowhere then whisked her away.

The bright morning held the promise of a return to normal. Nolan and Bianca were in their beds, and Jax had held her all night long until he had to go, giving her a quick update on her mom.

Sleepy and exhausted, she had only a few minutes to say goodbye before he rushed off to Titan-land, and now she replayed their conversation with a smile.

"Your mom got sick while we were out of town."

Seven had been abducted. Interesting how he'd chosen to word that.

"She's doing much better now, and Sidney went to be with her as often as he could."

Jax had explained that the reason her mom had been sick was because she'd had a seizure, which had stolen her breath until he'd explained that Taini now took the proper medication to combat that.

Then he'd also explained the reason her mom's rapid health decline over the past few weeks. She'd been pissed it took a stroke to find the problem, but her therapy and activities had been adjusted.

Jax had dealt with everything, all in the course of a couple days, while rescuing her and the kids. So, he was a superhero. Then off he'd gone to save the world again.

As soon as Glamma was able to take Nolan and Bianca, Seven called Adelia and made plans to hustle over to the nursing home as soon as visiting hours were available.

And now Seven waited outside Adelia's apartment. She ran her hands in semicircles along the steering wheel, replaying the last few days of insanity. Somehow, she was supposed to act as though life were normal again.

But it was normal. Normal had turned out to be one of the most relative words she'd ever thought about, and now she had to figure out how to coexist with that realization. Her normal was Sweet Hills and Mayhem.

But now she knew that somewhere in the world, there was a normal of cartel slavery and abductions as part of business dealings. That was their normal—both the evil, inhumane excuses for people who made those decisions day in and out as well as the people who lived until they died under the consequences of others' choices.

Yet she was back in Sweet Hills, where everything was old normal. Bianca and Nolan woke up at the crack of dawn, like normal. Just hours before, she'd tucked them into their beds after jet-setting back from South America and caravanning home under the watchful eye of a security detail.

Then they had Cheerios for breakfast. Like normal…

Seven had awoken alone after Jax tucked her into bed, promising all would be okay and she should sleep. Her hand still reached for him when she opened her eyes, but he was gone. At work, in another state or country… That had been Victoria and Ryder's normal for the past few years. It seemed easy enough from the outside looking in, but Seven had been wrong.

"Hey!" Adelia broke Seven's thoughts as she dove into the car.

"Hi."

"I'm so happy to see you." She hugged Seven. "Are you good?"

"I'm good. My muscles are a little sore from—"

Adelia's eyes rounded. "Crazy sex with the hot Italian."

Seven flashed her a side-eye. "No!"

"Liar."

"From walking for miles in a freaking jungle, thank you very much." Then, hot cheeked, she quietly whispered, "Though there might have been time spent with a certain man."

"Mm-hm." Adelia buckled her seatbelt. "Victoria's told me all about the Welcome to Vegas gift package she arranged for."

"What!" Ugh. Her face flashed hot. "No idea—"

"Champagne and lube?" Adelia giggled. "That's what a best friend is for."

Seven's cheeks flamed a whole notch hotter. "Holy shit! Is nothing sacred?"

"No. Spit it out."

"We're not having that conversation."

Laughing harder, Adelia bounced her eyebrows. "Victoria would dish."

"Well, the deputy mayor can do whatever she deems appropriate." Seven looked down her nose and rolled her eyes with a smile. Then she put the car into drive and pulled out. They followed the familiar small-town streets toward where her mother's nursing home was. Adelia fiddled with the radio and switched from station to station.

"Sweet Hills feels so quiet," Seven said.

"What do you mean?"

Hmm. What did she mean? "Some places in the world are in upheaval, and we're flipping the radio stations. Forty-eight hours ago, I was trudging through a jungle after Special Forces saved my children. There should be parades and confetti on the streets, headlines on the top of the Sweet Hills Sentinel, but no one knows."

"You haven't shared."

"Some things are so monumental, it seems the universe should know." Seven turned and accelerated down the main thoroughfare.

"I know you got married and haven't mentioned it." Adelia tucked a leg under the other on her seat. "Why don't we start there?"

Her fingers tensed around the steering wheel even as her heart fluttered. She was Mrs. Seven Michaelson. Or would she keep her last name like with Johnny? What was she thinking about? Vegas weddings were a problem to fix, even if the sex was mind-blowing and the man was one of a kind. "We were drunk."

"Not something I hear you say very often."

"It was a mistake, and I barely remember anything." Which wasn't true, and every time she closed her eyes, more memories fought through to permanently embed themselves in her memory. "I didn't mention it because it's not news."

Adelia sighed. "I can't believe the pre-Vegas discussion about a possible crush has morphed into a post-Vegas discussion about your nuptials."

"And impending divorce."

Adelia pouted. "Really? I did not see that coming."

Seven clicked on her turn signal then eased into the parking lot of the nursing home. "But you saw me getting married to Jax?" She rolled her eyes. "Come on, give me a little credit for being the most responsible person you know."

Adelia harrumphed.

"People make drunken mistakes, and obviously, I wasn't exempt, as surprising as that is to both of us." She forced a laugh. "Which is why God made divorce attorneys—ohh." Seven cocked her eyebrow as she parked and stared at Adelia. "You're my divorce hookup."

Lenora Appleton was a prominent attorney in Sweet Hills. She was the first phone call when Mayhem needed legal counsel or a quick bail out of jail, and behind closed doors of Sweet Hills society, she was also Tex's old lady, making her the pseudo-stepmom to Adelia. Even if Adelia's dad wasn't with Lenora, Seven could've asked, and Lenora would have discreetly processed what was needed for a quickie divorce. "Can you call her after we see my mom?"

Adelia pushed her bottom lip out. "Do I have to be part of ruining this fairy tale?"

Seven groaned. "Have your own. Plus, Jax and I can still do whatever he and I… do. We just don't need to be bound by a legal contract."

"For a woman who nearly crawled out of her skin when Ryder and Victoria got together, I cannot believe you're poo-pooing this."

"My wedding day can't involve Jell-O shooters."

Adelia let her eyebrow creep up. "Maybe your wedding day was supposed to teach you to loosen up a bit, darlin'."

"Right, and maybe I'm going to magically learn a better way to cope with my anxiety than my ridiculous compulsions when I pop in to see my mom. Same likelihood of life-changing epiphanies." Seven shouldn't complain. Her OCD was minor and far more manageable compared to what it could be. But when ideas got planted in her head, they were hard to let go. "Tell Lenora it's important. I'd like to have whatever I need for Jax to sign by the time he gets off of his assignment."

Adelia's heartbreaking frown could've been for both of them. "If that's what you think is best."

What was best and what was responsible were on opposite sides of Iowa. "I do."

She shifted into Park, and a motorcycle a few parking spaces over caught her eye. Narrowing her gaze, Seven looked to see who she recognized, and Adelia followed her stare.

"Who is that?"

"I don't know." Seven turned off her car and pocketed the keys in her purse. They didn't know everybody who rode a Harley in Sweet Hills. But more often than not, they did, and it wasn't normal to see one there.

"Let's go," Adelia said. "Maybe there's a hot biker for me to flirt with after I talk to your mama."

Seven laughed. "Maybe." Adelia's outlook on love and relationships vastly differed from Seven's, which was surprising since they'd had vaguely familiar upbringings. Adelia's had been far more traumatic. Both of their dads were criminal pieces of shit, or rather, Adelia's biological father was. Tex was a rock star in Seven's book. But he hadn't come along until Adelia was a teenager.

They got out and walked toward the check-in, pausing when they passed the Harley.

Adelia ambled closer. "What the… Who is that?"

Seven shrugged. "I don't care. So long as it's not Johnny, if they're here to visit my mom, I'm sure she's good with company."

Loud voices marred the normally serene foyer of the nursing home as they walked in, and the hairs on the back of Seven's neck spiked. "What do you think that's about?"

"Old folks gone wild?"

They picked up the pace, rounding the corner. And there stood Cullen Blackburn.

"Motherfucker," Adelia whispered.

Seven choked on air. Why was her father there? Adelia's hand found Seven's and gave it a quick squeeze but didn't let go.

Why wasn't he in prison? "What are you doing here?"

Her dad sauntered forward with a bastard's grin and mischievous eyes. "My little girl."

"Don't call me that." She'd rather they were on a first-name basis—or a no-contact one. "You're not allowed here."

"That's what they say." His forehead furrowed as his scrutiny became a visible inspection. "You are…"

Adelia squeezed her fingers around Seven's hand again, offering more reassurance.

"Colorful," he finally added.

Seven wasn't sure if Adelia had ever met her dad in person. She couldn't recall the last time she had seen him. Sentencing when his lawyer had trotted her out for sympathy points, maybe. But he had years left before he could even hope to be paroled. How many years had it been? Six? Maybe, she didn't know. "I am colorful."

"You look good, Lucky. Grown up a lot."

Lucky. Her stomach churned, and Seven fought the nausea that came with his nickname, bad memories, and childhood panic attacks. "Don't call me that."

He reached out as though he were going to touch her chin.

"Don't touch—"

Adelia stepped in front of Seven. "Like hell."

Her dad smirked. "And who is this Latin beauty? Holding hands, defending her?" He inched his obtrusive hand back. "Did my lucky girl turn into a dyke?"

Seven's molars ground, and a headache pulsed at her temples. Engaging with Cullen Blackburn was an exercise in stupidity, but so was avoiding his behavior. "Find your respect for the MC. This is Tex's daughter." Still holding onto Adelia's hand, Seven squeezed back. "I've got him. Will you go to my mom? Make sure she's okay?"

"Sure thing." Adelia took off for Taini, and the added benefit of sending her back to Mom's room was Adelia was like a soldier. Who knew why Seven's dad was there? But if all hell broke loose, Adelia could hold her own protecting Taini while they flagged Mayhem for backup.

Cullen cackled once she was gone. But they were not alone. The nursing home staff, including orderlies, lingered close. Her dad must've been quite the problem.

"Just you and me, kid, like old times."

Nothing would ever be like old times. "Did you break out of prison?"

His greedy grin curled onto his whisker-covered cheeks. "You don't think very highly of your pops, huh?"

"Go back to whatever hole you came from."

"Guess that's a no."

She sneered. "If they won't let you back into federal lockup, find a new hole."

He sucked his cheeks and tilted his head. "There'd be a lot of people pissed off if they heard you talking to me like that, Lucky."

Inside, she seethed, but Seven contained the gut-tearing scream. "Stop calling me Lucky."

He pulled a pack of smokes from his back pocket, tapped out a cigarette, and stuck it behind his ear. "I dunno what Mayhem and Suarez have gotten themselves into, but there are many people unhappy with decisions lately." He pocketed the box as Seven's blood ran cold. "But it worked out well for me. You got me sprung."

She couldn't swallow past the knot in her throat. The feds had let him out? What? The CIA— "Do you know Deacon Lanes?"

His eyebrows bounced. "Doesn't matter who I know, just what I'm supposed to do."

"Stay away from us. The club. Go back."

"And just when I thought it'd be a good time to work on our family relations."

It was the CIA and Deacon. They had done this. The government really was working against Hawke and wanted Mayhem to control the US cocaine distribution, and there was nothing she could do.

Mayhem was ruining her world. Johnny was coked out, speedballing meth, coming down, getting high. Her children lived in fear of people around them dropping dead from overdoses, asking if she was alive after she fell asleep on the couch with her shoes on. Jax and Titan had risked their lives to change the trajectory of the MC, and now Uncle Sam was a goddamned puppet master, pulling strings that she didn't know how to compete with. "Go away. I never want to see you again. Stay away from Mayhem."

"We both know that's never going to happen."

She didn't care, didn't have the right to say anything she thought. But it was time, and she had to make a stand. "Take off your cut."

"From my motorcycle club?" her dad mocked.

"I'll tell them you're working with the feds."

His face went from sarcastic to sadistic, and her dad took bold steps closer until he towered over her. "Lucky, they won't believe you, and then I will kill you." He took another step. "After those two beautiful children—"

"Get out!"

He laughed, taking a step back, and winked. "Always the Mayhem princess. It's in your blood, defending your own until the bloody end."

Seven realized more staff had gathered as though she might need help. Or maybe for Sweet Hills gossip. She'd worked so hard to remove herself from association with Cullen and build a new reputation for her and her mom. "You need to leave."

"Then we'll have this conversation elsewhere." He nodded goodbye to onlookers. "I'll see you at your house on Landover."

He knew where she lived… Numbly, Seven rushed past the check-in desk as the Harley roared out of the parking lot.