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Rachel took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Dr. Charchedi said sometime this afternoon or tomorrow.”
“And then you can go home?”
“I can’t see any reason to stay.” Rachel threw her hands out. “I feel much better.”
Abby pressed her lips together and studied her mother. “We still need to find out what’s going on with you and fix it!”
Rachel smiled. “I’m in good hands with Dr. Carchedi.”
Abby settled herself a bit further down the bed, so she could look her mother in the eye. She needed to see her reaction as well as hear what she had to say.
“Mum, what do you know about The Devils MC gang?”
“Only what Scott said, and they were on the news a few months ago when their clubhouse burned down.” Rachel’s features remained neutral, although Abby was sure she detected colour rising on her cheeks and neck.
“Uh huh, and what about the president? I believe he goes by the name Zep.”
The colour on Rachel’s cheeks intensified as she shook her head unconvincingly. “I don’t know anything about him. Why are you asking?”
Outrage burned inside Abby. Her mother was lying to her. Rachel had never lied to her.
“So why do you have a portfolio full of sketches of him?”
Her mother’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Granted, it’s a much younger version of him. But it is him–Zep–yeah?” Abby’s whole body tensed as Rachel stared at her, mouth open.
“I don’t…” Rachel’s voice faded into nothing.
Abby leaned in. “You don’t what? Know what to say?” She stood and paced to the wall, arms folded tightly against her body, then back again. “Okay, let’s try this, shall we. Why was Zep, the president of The Devils MC and the subject of dozens of your drawings, in your cottage earlier today?” She was trembling from the inside out. From anger, disbelief, frustration.
All of the colour drained from Rachel’s face. “Zep was… in… my house…?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Yes, he was. I think he wanted to have a chat. He certainly knew who I was.” Abby lifted her hands into her hair, squeezing her fists until the roots pulled against her scalp. “How does he know who I am, Mum?”
Rachel tore her gaze from Abby’s, her hand absently rubbing at her decolletage as she looked towards the window. “He’s a resourceful man. I imagine he’s always known who you are… where you are.”
Abby stopped. Her anger evaporated as another thought occurred to her. “Oh, God.” She felt sick. “Mum, did he… Did he hurt you?”
“What?” Rachel turned back to her. “No! Zep would never hurt me. He’d never hurt you.”
Abby shook her head. None of this made any sense. For the first time in her life, her mother didn’t make sense. “Then who is he to you? Who is he to…” The question stuck in her throat. All her emotions were swamped by an unnerving need to cry. Not just cry, but sob uncontrollably. She drew in a breath laced with the weight of expectation. She wouldn’t cry. Not because of this man.
“Darling, you’ve never asked, and I've never given you an explanation.”
Abby shook her head, her hand covering her mouth.
“To be honest, it was a relief, you not wanting to know. It meant I didn’t have to make up a story.” Rachel held out her hand. “Come here.”
Abby continued to stand in silence, her world teetering on the brink of disbelief.
“Darling, Zep is your father.”
Her father? A man she’d never known, never pined for or imagined who he might be, was a wanted criminal? Shockwaves reverberated through her very being. Her mind reeled, desperately attempting to comprehend the situation. Her gaze fell from her mother’s face and darted around the room as if seeking an anchor in a suddenly unsteady world.
Her hands trembled, barely noticeable at first but growing more pronounced as the weight of the information sank in. She clasped them together, as though physically trying to hold herself together, to maintain some semblance of composure in a moment that threatened to unravel her. She felt like a taut string ready to snap. Her breaths came in short, sharp gasps, and every so often, her lips parted as if to speak, to question, to deny, but no words came out.
Her life, her identity, her understanding of who she was–everything was now cast in a new, unsettling light. The foundation upon which she had built her understanding of her family was shaken, leaving her to grapple with a reality far removed from anything she had imagined.
