Secret revealed (Sequel to My Dark Secret)

Chapter 19

Today will be my last update (as I will be uploading the last two chapters together). Things are beginning to wrap up. I hope you've enjoyed the journey!

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"Liam"

My heart drops at the sound of the VP's voice. For the last hour, both my dad and my brand-new boyfriend have been avoiding me.

It feels weird to be calling Tom my boyfriend. Out of all the things that are weird right now, that is the weirdest.

Everyone looks solemn when we go back in and take a seat.

"Liam," the VP starts, "we've come to an agreement."

I look around the room. Nobody is paying attention to me; they're all focused on my dad.

"As we have not been able to prove anything other than incompetence on your behalf, you are to be exiled."

My mind goes numb. Exiled? The MC has been his whole life. He joined when he was fourteen. Everything he has ever done has been for the club, the club has been a swing factor for every important life choice... and it's all been for nothing.

The VP is droning on about everything that my dad is now allowed or not allowed to do but I barely hear him. I try to snap out of it by telling myself that it could be a lot worse. They could have decided that they were just going to kill him. Or worse.

When I was little I would see my dad every once in a while. Usually we'd go out for family days with my mum, but once in a blue moon we'd go out for daddy-daughter days. These days were a bit more on the wild side than when mum was there. He'd talk to me about the MC – not specific details but just stories of marginally illegal things that they had done and alluded to the more illegal things – and he always finished the stories with morals which were usually to never get involved in that world. It was on one of these days that he taught me how to ride a dirt bike in the middle of a daisy covered field, many others when he taught me how to really fight and not just how to put my fists up...

Growing up, I would sometimes get angry at my dad. Why was the MC more important than his daughter and the woman he supposedly loved? It was then that my mum would calm me down and tell me that even though he loved us to the moon and back, the MC was his universe. I never fully understood it but over time I learnt to accept it.

And now, that MC that was his whole universe, that he sacrificed a family for, is just kicking him to the curb like some stray mongrel. The more I think about, the more the numbness dissolves into anger. I look around the room at the men looking at my dad gravely. What a bunch of arseholes. None of them have sacrificed what my dad has and yet he's the one getting kicked out.

I'm about to interrupt the VP on his ridiculous tirade and give him a piece of my mind, when Tom somehow catches my eye. His glare transmits very succinctly that I need to keep my mouth shut and voice my opinions later.

Suddenly, my dad stands up, throws his jacket down in the massive table, pulls out a penknife and starts cutting open the stitches on his patches. One by one he chucks the patches into the centre of the table until all that is left is an old coat covered in needle holes and dark blotches where the patches protected the leather from the sun.

Then, everyone is on their feet and moving towards the door. Tom wordlessly guides me towards the main hall where a chair is placed in the centre and a tattoo gun is brought out. The next few hours are spent with everyone sitting around whilst my dad has his club related tattoos blacked out. I've never been able to understand why you're not allowed to just have them covered with something that you like. But protocol says that they have to be blacked out and once that's done, there's nothing that can cover that except industrial-grade make-up. Seeing as it's literally taking hours to do, I have plenty of time to think and to overthink to the point where I'm on the brink of tears. Why can't they just forgive him? Or at the very least demote him. It all seems so unfair.

My dad looks up and sees me staring. "It'll be okay, princess," he mouths.

When the last speck has been blacked out, my dad gingerly puts his shirt, jumper and jacket back on.

The VP then steps forward and pulls my dad into a tight hug. "You best say your goodbyes," he tells my dad gruffly. To his credit, he does look pretty torn up.

It feels like another eternity later when the goodbyes are done with, the tears roughly wiped away and we are on our way. Tom follows my dad who leads us to his house on his bike. The journey is pretty short as he only lives about five streets away from the MC's clubhouse.

"What are you going to do now, dad?" I ask as we have a cup of tea in his kitchen.

"Retire."

"And then what?"

"I have a plan. Unless I died, I was going to end up leaving the MC sooner or later."

I can't help the shocked expression. My dad? Leave the MC of his own free will?

"As soon as you can't ride anymore, you retire and are effectively no longer part of the MC. It's not quite like being exiled because you can still go and spend time at the clubhouse, go to parties, see your friends..." he clarifies. "And I was prepared for the day I would have to leave. I've got a nice nest-egg that I've been sitting on ever since I met your mother. We always talked about buying one of those big campervans and going traveling."

"You did always say that your dream is to do route 66 across America."

"Exactly! And now I –we – can do that. I've got more than enough money for your mother to take early retirement and come with me."

I look at my dad's smiling face and can't believe what I'm seeing. I thought he'd be crushed but he looks anything but.

"Sweetheart, I know that you've been angry with me for putting the MC before everything else, and there were times when I really struggled with the choices I had to make. But now I can spend the rest of my life putting first the two women I love most in the whole world, right where they should be."

My throat starts to feel all scratchy and tight and I can feel the day's unshed tears welling. "Are you happy, dad?" I choke out.

He smiles. "Grand, banphrionsa."

This time I can't stop the tears from pouring forwards. Tom goes to hug me but my dad's glare keeps him seated.

"It'll be okay, princess," he says, hugging me tightly.

"You don't have to do that, dad," I say. "The tattoos must be painful."

"Ah, what does a little pain matter when my little girl is upset?"

It takes me a couple of minutes to calm down and when I finally do, my dad steps away and wipes away my tears. "There, everything will be fine."

I give him a wobbly smile.

"Right, I don't know what time it is, but I'm knackered. That's got to be my longest tat sitting to date. I'm going to take a paracetamol and go to bed. Make yourselves at home," he looks pointedly at Tom, "but don't forget that it is my home." He looks back at me and gives me a kiss on the head. "You can take the spare bedroom and you," he glares at Tom again, "can sleep on the sofa."

"Yes, sir," Tom answers.

My dad gives me another kiss. "Goodnight."