Lennox never imagined that her life would turn out this way. Or that one night could lead to so many events that would change her and her sons' lives. She never imagined going from rags to riches or in her case rags to leather. Or finding family and...
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Tig tried to calm his racing heart. He knew Lennox's view of him and the club would change.
She had said her past was dark, and while it was horrifying thinking about what she had gone through. It wasn't as dark as his.
He'd killed people.
The club had run guns and, for a brief time, drugs when the shit with the cartel had gone down.
His past was darker, and letting Lennox into it would change everything completely. He delayed the inevitable because he feared she would look at him like Fawn had and react the same way. He also did not want anything to do with him after the truth came out.
"It's okay," she softly said, grabbing his hand. "It's not going to change anything. Your past doesn't reflect who you are now."
"Sweetheart, that's easier said than done," Tig said, sighing. Shifting around in his seat, he tried to find the words and where to begin. "My past isn't pretty. It's dark. I did things that will change how you look at me. The way you look at the club is going to be changed. You might run far away from here by the end, which scares me."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Tig looked at her, sitting next to him on the floor. Both of their backs were resting on the kitchen island. "I'm not too sure about that. Once you hear the truth about your old man."
"I know neither you nor the club are saints," Lennox said softly, taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling. "But nobody is, and you can't be afraid of your past and let it dictate your present. That's something I've learned."
"Where do I even start?" Tig said, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling. "You've seen how the folks around here react when the club or the automotive shop is mentioned."
"The club started as a group of guys wanting to ride bikes and find a certain freedom. A brotherhood for those who had served in the Vietnam War. But then it got into running guns for the Irish, and shit just started going downhill from there."
"Instead of just motorcycle enthusiasts, we became outlaws, and all of us have served time in jail for one thing or another. Be it misdemeanors to federal crimes."
Tig turned to look at Lennox. He was staring into her innocent blue eyes—the same blue eyes as himself—the ones that stared back at him, the ones that held the pain of her past but the hope of the future.
He didn't want those blue eyes looking at him in hate. He'd already had to live with the guilt of being the one responsible for causing Dawn's death. He was the cause for Fawn hating him even more than she did before.
Everything he cared about tended to vanish one way or another. He didn't want to see Lennox leaving him behind now that he got his second chance.
"I've made people disappear," he admitted, looking away from her. Focusing on the kitchen table in front of them instead. "I've got blood on my hands from countless people I've killed and never regretted any of them except for two."
