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Zep frowned. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“You do nothing and Isobel kills them, that’s on you. You try to warn them and tip off their location,” Connor spread his hands, “Isobel kills them, and that’s still on you.”
He rubbed his face, then smoothed over his moustache. He hated that Connor had a point.
“You ever met your kid?”
The sudden change in direction threw him. “Nah.”
“Know what she looks like?”
Heat blistered beneath his skin. Connor’s questions were picking at things he’d walled away, deep inside himself. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What’s that mean?” He was like a starving dog with a dried-up old bone.
“She did an internship in the Blue Mountains.” Zep swallowed down the sudden burst of emotion. He remembered that day as clearly as yesterday.
He’d been on a ride to Lithgow and had stopped at Blackheath for something to eat. Sitting at the open window at the pub with his counter meal and a beer, he’d heard her laugh. Becca’s laugh was seared into his memory. She’d once told him she couldn’t remember the last time she’s laughed before she’d met him.
Her hair was shorter, but not much else was different. It was cool in the mountains that day, and Becca had worn an oversized knitted jacket over jeans and a shirt that had hugged her body. If he closed his eyes, Zep could still remember the soft curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts. Her blue eyes sparkled as she laughed, her smile almost brought him undone.
She sat at a crowded café with another woman. A moment later, the woman turned in her chair to look at something Becca was pointing at. The beating of his heart had deafened him to all other noise. Her hair was long and blonde, the way Becca’s had been when they’d first met. The woman was much younger than he’d thought, barely in her twenties. She was the spitting image of her mother, except for her eyes. She had his eyes.
“What kind of internship?” Connor pulled him from his memories.
“She’s an interior designer.” And a bloody good one. He’d read the article inBelle Magazine. Studied her face for over an hour, experienced a cyclone of emotions at how well she’d done for herself, then tossed the magazine into the trash.
“And Becca?”
“Artist.” She had so much talent and Zep was glad she’d turned her dream into a career.
“I seem to remember she was always drawing in her sketchbook,” Connor said.
Zep nodded, wondering if she’d kept those sketches she’d made of him.
“What’s your girl’s name?”
“Abby.” He couldn’t remember ever saying her name out loud. “And Becca goes by Rachel.”
“You ever regret not knowing her?”
Zep almost laughed. “No.”
“Never?” Connor persisted.
He looked his old friend in the eye. “I never knew my father and I barely had a mother. What the fuck do I know about raising a kid? Biology made me a father, but I’ve never been one. Neither of them have ever needed me, and I’m good with that.”
“Prez,” Connor scraped his chair back and stood, “I reckon they might need you now.”
His words were a sucker punch to the gut. Zep loved the club and he loved this life, but it was no place for a family. He’d kept Rachel and Abby safe all these years by staying away. And now it seemed he’d failed.
Chapter 4
Abby’s trip to Sydney was axed when Scott’s prediction came to fruition. The case broke wide open on Friday and by the weekend they were tying up loose ends. The upside was that he was due home Sunday afternoon. Not that Abby even had time to miss Scott. She was kept busy with work and checking in on Demi and Flynn. By Friday night, Abby was looking forward to a home cooked meal and some down time with her mum. On the drive from a client’s property in Byron Bay to Lennox Head where her mum lived, Abby had been treated to a spectacular autumn sunset. As the days got shorter and cooler, the skies seemed to get brighter and bolder, with the colours turning from pink to orange, then purple as the darkest blues of the ocean floor rose to the surface. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
“Hello, darling,” Rachel greeted her when she arrived a little after six. Bruce, her mother’s mini foxy cross chihuahua, jumped at her feet, desperate for attention.
“Hi, Mum.” She kissed her mother’s cheek and held up the bottle of red.
