Fiasco (Dirty Aces MC Book 6) by Lane Hart (black male authors .TXT) 📕

Chapter Fourteen

Joanna

I drive around aimlessly in the dark, rainy night for hours until Ace whines from the passenger seat. Of course, he probably needs to go to the bathroom. It’s going to take some time before I get used to having someone else’s needs to constantly consider. But that’s not actually a bad thing. I have been lonely on my own since the divorce. It’ll be nice to have someone to come home to, even if he runs on four legs.

Maybe I was unknowingly circling the area or maybe it was fate that we were on the street right outside of the Dirty Aces pool hall. I take it as a sign that I should go in after Ace handles his business.

He takes forever in the pouring rain, searching for the perfect spot to finally squat awkwardly since he can’t exactly lift his back leg. Then I’m hurrying him under the awning as fast as his three legs can take him. On the dry part of the sidewalk, Ace shakes his short fur to dry it and then lays down in protest. I guess I’ll be carrying a wet dog inside with me.

There are a few men sitting at the bar, but none of them wearing the leather vests of the MC. I do recognize the man playing pool with a blonde woman in a very short dress. At least, they’re holding pool sticks, but I don’t think the way he’s bending over her, kissing her neck is part of the game.

“Wirth!” I say, and he jumps up and turns around to face me with the stick in his hand.

“Who is she?” the woman with him asks.

“Maeve, doll, this is Joanna. She’s…a nurse who helped heal the guys after the shooting,” he says, although it sounded like he started to say something else. “Joanna, this is my girlfriend, Maeve.”

“Aren’t you forgetting another word you should use to describe me to your girlfriend?” I ask.

“Ah, no, no I’m not,” he says with a shake of his head before he turns to Maeve. “I swear, it’s not what you think. I haven’t ever touched her!”

After his plea, I realize my words sounded like a jealous woman and not what I intended.

“I meant sister, as in Nash’s sister,” I clarify.

“Oh shit,” Wirth says softly and then calls out, “Nash! You’ve got a visitor.”

“That’s right, Nash. Your sister is here to see you!” I add when the tall, dark and handsome man comes out of one of the rooms cautiously.

“Hi, Joanna,” he says quietly, and then he shoves his hands into the front of his jean pockets, trying to look sweet and innocent. “How did you find out?”

“Phillip just told me! Why didn’t you?” I yell at him even though I’m guessing it’s a little hard to look indignant with my arms full of a wet dog and the rain dripping down my hair to my face.

Nash’s brow wrinkles in confusion and then his eyes narrow. “What the fuck were you doing with Fiasco?”

“That doesn’t matter! And his name is Phillip!” I say, growing even angrier at him for being upset with the other man. I was a few hours ago, but only because he kept this from me. I can almost bet that Phillip didn’t tell me because Nash ordered him not to. While I’m not entirely sure of the MC’s whole ranking system, I’m certain Nash has more authority in the MC than Phillip. “You should have told me we were related from the beginning!”

“What’s all this shouting about?” another man asks when he comes out of the room Nash just left wearing the same leather vest and jeans. It doesn’t take long for me to recognize his shoulder length brown hair and tattoos up and down his arms. Malcolm, the MC’s president. “Joanna?” he says in surprise. “Why the fuck did you bring a dog into our bar?”

“Long story,” I say with a sigh. “But since Nash here has been stalking me, maybe he can fill you in!”

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Nash says. “Lucy, my girlfriend, found you and the records about you being a nurse. I wasn’t planning to ever bother you; but on the night of the shooting, you were our only option. Malcolm and Hunt would’ve survived but not Fiasco. Would you have rather we let him die?”

I wince at the thought of what would’ve happened to Phillip, if they hadn’t gotten him to me in time. I would have never had a chance to help him or talk to him or kiss him…

“I don’t care that you brought them to my place. What I care about is that you lied about how you knew who I was and that I was a nurse! You should’ve told me everything from the beginning.”

“That night was hectic,” Nash says. “I didn’t want to distract you from sewing Fiasco up with the bombshell that we had the same mother and maybe the same father. I couldn’t take your attention away from the patients for their sake.”

“So, you might be my brother, not just half-brother but…” I’m unsure what to say to that, so I sort of rock the wet dog in my arms like a baby, more to calm myself than him since he seems content to just be held.

“Yes,” he answers. “There was no father listed on your birth certificate, but there was on mine. Lucy found records showing that both of them lived at the same address all those years…”

“They were living together, like a couple, and they just decided to give up not one baby but two? Why?”

“I wish I knew,” Nash replies with a heavy sigh.

“Were they young?”

“In their twenties.”

“So not teenagers.”

“No, not teenagers,” he says with a shake of his head.

“They just didn’t want us?”

He shrugs. “Maybe they thought they were doing us a favor, letting another family adopt us and give us a better life.”

“The family that adopted me was nice enough, but we were poor as fuck,” I admit.

“At least you got