The police officer that was at the house shows up and tells Grease that the other guy is the father of Mary-Anne’s ex-boyfriend.
He’s an attorney, and his son was murdered by a guy who was wrongfully convicted. He was the attorney that helped convict him. I try not to grin, knowing the whole fucking truth.
“Why was he after her, though?” Grease asks, sounding serious and concerned.
“He called his wife and left her a message shortly after he took off, driving to get here. Apparently, he thinks that it all had to do with Mary-Anne; that somehow it was all her fault. He’s also been on anti-psychotic medication for years, and then just stopped taking it. When he did, she told us that he started doing bizarre things, one of them being these hallucinatory rants that he would go on,” the officer explains.
“So he was a fuckin’ nut?” Grease asks.
“Mentally unstable, Grease,” the officer explains.
“A fuckin’ nut,” Grease chuckles.
“I’ll be back. Call me if there’s any updates,” the officer says as he leaves.
“Fuck,” I curse.
“Crazy fuckin’ looney tunes,” Grease grunts as he sits down next to me.
We wait.
Then we wait some more.
Then we wait a little fuckin’ longer.
Then a doctor walks in, but he’s got news on the fucker who did this, so none of us really give a shit about that.
Finally, a doctor walks in and tells us that Mary-Anne is going to be good. Her wound wasn’t anything severe.
She’ll have to be in an arm brace to keep from tearing her sutures up, but she’s going to be fine and can even go home in the morning.
Ivy and I go to her room and see her sleeping in her bed.
“I’ll stay here with her. I don’t want her to wakeup alone,” Ivy murmurs.
“Yeah, baby. You gonna be okay alone?”
“When you hear something, come and tell me,” she says gently.
I lean down and press my lips against hers before I walk out of the room.
We wait all night long. Nobody sleeps. We’re all on edge, waiting to hear about our president. When Fury, his Old Lady, Sniper, and his Old Lady walk through the hospital doors, a gaggle of fucking kids trailing behind them, I know that it’s been at least twelve hours, and nothing, not a fucking peep from the doctors.
“Where’s my sister?” Sniper practically roars.
“C’mon,” I motion, not hesitating. Sniper tells his woman to stay as he follows me.
Ivy is curled up on the sofa, her eyes watching the television, but she’s completely zoned. When I open the door, she jumps. Her eyes go from me to the big bastard behind me, and I swear to fuck she shrinks.
“This is my Old Lady, she’s been here the whole time,” I announce. Sniper grunts.
He’s completely focused on his sister. He can’t even tear his eyes away from her, and I don’t think he would ever even try.
“Thank you,” Sniper says as we walk by him.
“She hasn’t woken yet, but the nurse just left and said she looked really good, that she should wake up at any time,” Ivy whispers as we walk out of the room.
“He’s scary,” she murmurs, curling into my side.
“Fuck, yeah, no shit,” I grunt as we walk into the waiting area.
Chapter Twenty-Four
MARY-ANNE
My eyelids flutter open and I look around, knowing exactly where I am. A smelly hospital. But I gasp at who is in the room with me. Bates stands up as soon as he hears me gasp, and he’s at my side in an instant.
“Fucking shit, Mary-Anne,” he rumbles.
“My arm hurts like hell,” I moan.
He chuckles before he presses a button. Then everything comes back to me and my chest starts to ache—Max.
“Oh, my god. Is he dead?” I ask with tears in my eyes.
Bates’ face goes soft, then he looks at me with pity and sadness, and I know that he must be gone.
“We don’t know,” he finally says. “Nobody has said anything yet. It’s been fifteen hours, and we’ve had no word.”
I open my mouth to say something, but a nurse comes in with a big smile on her face and a paper cup in hand. She asks me how I’m feeling as she hands me the cup with pills in it before pouring me another cup full of water from the pitcher on the table, at my side.
Then she takes my vitals and informs me that a doctor will be in to see me shortly, but that everything went really well and it looks like I’ll be able to be discharged today. I thank her and she leaves.
“How have you heard nothing?” I ask Bates as soon as she’s gone.
“Nurses won’t tell us shit, so we wait for a doctor,” he grunts.
Just then, my doctor walks in and starts talking to me about my procedure. Apparently, the shot was very clean, and it looks like I’ll heal perfectly.
“Oh, and your baby is just fine. We did some blood work and an ultrasound,” he says as he turns to leave.
I stare at him slack jawed as Bates’ arm swings out and grabs his bicep.
“Baby?” he asks before I can.
“Yes. The fetus is fine. It seems to not have been affected by the trauma. You knew you were pregnant, didn’t you?” he asks.
I shake my head in shock, surprised shock.
“You’re about five weeks along. You should call an obstetrician and make an appointment to be seen and have everything tested again. But there was a heartbeat on the ultrasound machine, and your blood work showed your hCG was extremely high,” he explains. I nod. Bates releases him and turns to me.
“That old fucker knocked you up?” he asks with a scowl.
“Watch it,” I warn.
“MadDog knocked you up?” he says, changing his words around.
“We were trying,” I admit shakily.
“The fuck?”
“But we’ve only been trying a couple weeks,” I explain.
“Is it Kyle’s?” Bates asks gently, concern marring his features.
“No, no it’s Max’s, but we hadn’t been trying yet. So, yeah, shit. What if, what if he dies and I’m all alone?” I say as I start to sob.
Bates sits down next to me on the bed and pulls me gently into his chest, wrapping his huge arms around me. He holds me as I cry. No, I don’t just cry. I sob and I wail and I feel sorry for myself all at once.
“It’s all going to be, okay,” he mutters against the top of my head.
“You’re softer now that you have girls,” I whisper into his chest with a hiccup. He chuckles and then pushes me back a bit to look down on me.
“No matter what, Mary-Anne, this baby will be loved. This baby already has a huge fuckin’ family to love it unconditionally,” he grunts, sounding nothing like my brother, and yet, it’s him—softened by the number of women in his household.
I also think, softened by the amount of love that fills his home, too.
“Okay, Bates,” I exhale. “Okay.”
A few minutes later, the nurse comes in and has me sign some paperwork, officially discharging me. I ask her about Max, but she just shakes her head and apologizes that she can’t tell me anything.
I also ask about Mr. Clark, and she says the same. Then she tells me that she’ll get a wheelchair brought up to take me downstairs.
“I’m not leaving. I’ll be waiting to hear about Max,” I announce.
The nurse nods; then she informs me that they’ll wheel me to the waiting room. I almost, almost, roll my eyes at that, and Bates chuckles.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m being wheeled into the waiting room, a waiting room that is full of people, all Notorious Devils and their Old Ladies. Both Brentlee and Kentlee run over to me and help me over to a chair.
I’m wearing a pair of scrubs that my nurse so generously found for me, no bra, and socks, but no shoes. My pajamas were covered in blood, and honestly, I never want to see them again.
“Holy Shit,” Kentlee says as she gently wraps her arms aro
und me and hugs me.
“No news? Nothing?” I ask, not caring about anything but Max.
“No, I’m sorry,” she says softly.
I don’t say anything about being pregnant. Bates knows, but I want to tell Max before I tell anybody else. This is something he wanted, this is something he was adamant about wanting, and I want him to be as close as the first to know as possible.
So we wait.
Then, we wait a little bit longer.
Finally, a doctor walks in, scrubs bloody, and a look of concern on his face. I know, I just know that Max is gone. Tears instantly fall from my eyes.
I couldn’t control them even if I wanted to.
Brentlee wraps her arm around me while I watch Kentlee and Fury walk up to the doctor to talk to him.
There is a lot of nodding, and low murmurs, none of which I can hear, and then the doctor walks away. My eyes snap up to Fury’s and he makes his way toward me, his face gravely serious, and I start to shake.
My whole body trembles as he crouches down in front of me. His hand squeezes above my knee and his eyes meet mine when he finally speaks.
“He’s going to be okay,” he murmurs.
I start to sob. Full on crying, wailing, snot, the whole bit. I can’t help myself. It all comes in a rush of fear and relief and jubilation. Five little words—he’s going to be okay.
I lean forward and wrap my good arm around his shoulders, pressing my forehead against his neck as I cry, my whole body sagging in relief.
“When can I see him?” I ask, lifting my head.
“They only want one person at a time inside. You’re first up, darlin’,” he chuckles.
I don’t even try to act like he should go first. I’m selfish, so selfish, because I need to see that Max is okay. I need to touch him and just know—I need to know that I didn’t get him killed.
MADDOG
Fuck, I feel like I’m on the verge of death. I crack an eye open and see a fall of black hair draped on my arm, then I feel something wet on my hand. I wiggle my fingers and Mary’s head pops up, her eyes rimmed with red and her cheeks wet.
“Oh, my god, you’re awake,” she breathes.
“Yeah, sweetness,” I grunt.
Then it all comes back to me. The gunshots, the pain, me shooting and hitting Mary. My eyes move to the side and see that she’s in a sling.
I shot her.
I fucking shot her.
“I’m okay, baby, I’m okay,” she whispers when she notices my eyes fixated on her arm. “I wasn’t even in for a full twenty-four hours. I’m fine.”
I don’t speak. I don’t know how she ended up here. That fucker had a gun and was breathing just fine when I went down. But I do know that I’m not going to ask her. In fact, she needs to get away from me.
I fucking brought this to her, shit that wasn’t even part of the club, shit that wasn’t a necessity. I killed Kyle for fun, because he was a douche who had hurt her in the past, but he wasn’t going to hurt her again, not with me at her side.
“Is Pierce here?” I ask.
She rears her head back slightly and then jerks it in a nod. Without a word, or even a look back at me she walks away. I watch her. She’s dressed in ill-fitting scrubs and she’s not wearing shoes, proving yet again just how fucked up all of this is.
A few minutes later, a nurse comes in and checks all my vitals, machines, tubes, and shit before my son, Fury, walks through the door.
“Okay, Mr. Duhart, everything is good. A doctor will be by to check your chart and talk to you in a bit,” the nurse informs me before she walks away, leaving me with my son.
“There a reason Kentlee is holding onto Mary-Anne, who is inconsolable at the moment, while you’re awake and breathing?” he asks.
My son. No bullshit, not an ounce—just like his old man.
“If you tell me some fucked up shit that is really just you pushing her away because you’re a pussy, I don’t wanna hear it,” he remarks before I can even speak a single word.
“It doesn’t matter,” I grunt, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Then you don’t deserve her,” he says before he turns and walks away from me.
The doctor comes in and talks about my injuries, how he worked on me for over ten hours and wasn’t sure if I’d make it.
He tells me how lucky I am to be alive, and then says that I’ll be under supervision for the next four days before I can go home. I try to listen to every word, but I can’t.
My mind is stuck on Mary-Anne and how downright fucking cruel I was to her. She didn’t deserve that sort of treatment; she didn’t deserve Kyle’s or his dad’s, either. But I’m supposed to love her, and I was a fucking—
“You dick,” Kentlee shouts, walking into the room.
My eyes widen, surprised at her words, and yet not. I was just going to think of myself the exact same way.
“She loves you. She fought for you with her brother. And when you went down, she fucking fought for you. Do you even know what she’s been through today? Do you even fucking care? I am so sick of you Duhart men thinking that you know what’s best for the women in your lives. You know what? You don’t know, not at all. You’re nothing but big ass cavemen who can’t think complex thoughts. You both fucking piss me off,” she screeches.
“Kent, baby girl,” Pierce says behind her.
“No, don’t you dare. You tried this same fucking shit with me. Somebody needs to beat you dudes over the head.”
Her chest is heaving with her breath, and I can’t help myself. The little thing is so fucking worked up, she’s adorable. No wonder my son ran after her the second he saw her and then kept her. I throw back my head in laughter, but it’s the wrong move. It makes me groan in pain.
“Oh, shit, are you okay?” Kentlee, asks running to my side.
“I’m fine,” I moan.
“You’re a dick,” she grunts before she walks over to the couch and sits down. “I cannot believe you made her cry. Bates was two seconds away from busting through the door and beating the shit out of you in that bed. The guys had to drag him away and make Brentlee take him. The only way he would go was if Mary-Anne went with him. They’re staying at your house tonight, by the way,” my daughter-in-law informs me as she rattles away.
I’m still stuck on the part where I made Mary-Anne cry.
Fuck, I am a dick.
“How’d she get away from that guy? Kyle’s father?” I ask, turning to my son for information.
“She didn’t tell you what happened?” Kentlee asks on a gasp.
“Baby girl, how about you let me tell him?” Fury asks, his control slipping. It almost makes me laugh.
“No, no way in hell. I’m telling your dad what a giant dick he is, and I’m telling him the story,” she announces.
I nod for her to continue, not giving a fuck who tells me as long as somebody does. Then Kentlee tells me the story, every last detail, and I close my eyes. I am a giant dick. She fought, truly fought, to save—to save us, and I turned her away without even letting her speak.
Christ.
“Bates told me—he told me something else. I wasn’t going to tell you, because—.”
“I’m a giant dick. I get it, darlin’. I feel it down to my bones,” I inform her before I watch as her face softens on me. “Are you going to apologize to her?”
“I’ll talk to her,” I grunt, not willing to apologize. That ain’t me.
“But are you going to get her back? Is everything going to be good between you?” she asks, eyeing me warily.
“Yeah,” I admit.
I’m getting slightly impatient with her, because she’s trying to tell me something obviously important, but she keeps fucking stalling.
“She’s pregnant,” Kentlee whispers. My eyes widen in surprise.
“Then it ain’t mine,” I grind out as the anger rises.
“Of course, it is. Who else’s would it be?” she asks with wide eyes.
“Pops,” Pierce warns. I sha
ke my head.
“She was protected until just a few weeks ago,” I explain.
“Trust me, it doesn’t always work,” Kentlee mumbles, looking at Fury who grins.
“Don’t—just promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” Kentlee begs.
I look at her, not committing because this baby isn’t mine. My woman is pregnant, and it ain’t fucking mine.
They leave a little while later, failing to convince me that this baby Mary is carrying is mine, and tell me that they’ll be back the next day. I nod and lie back, closing my eyes and hoping for some sleep.
Pregnant.
She’s pregnant with that fuckhead’s baby.
She tried to kill a man, taking his eyeballs out for me, and she’s carrying another man’s child. Can I accept that? It’s not as if Kyle is coming back. It’s not as if his father is going to do anything but probably exist, for the rest of his blind life.
It isn’t an easy decision. I love Mary, I do. I marked her with my name, and I claimed her, but raising another man’s child? Watching her grow with a piece of him inside of her, instead of me? I don’t know if I can do that.
I don’t know if I can love that child and accept it, either. It’s not like a step-child, a child that’s born and you fall in love with it; it’s not like an adopted child that you want and take the steps to get.
It would be watching the woman I love carry and bring a child into the world, a child that isn’t mine.
“You’re a special kind of asshole. I thought you were better than all this shit,” Sniper says from the dark doorway.
I didn’t even hear him walk in and close the door behind him. I don’t speak. I just wait. Obviously, he’s in a mood, and I’ve hurt his sister—deeply.
“You know she’s pregnant?” he asks. I nod. “You care at all? Or are you just going to toss her aside?”
“I care.” I state.
“But…”
“It ain’t mine,” I grind out.
“Stella ain’t mine by blood, but that child is my daughter. You’re a pussy,” Bates growls.
“True, Stella might not be yours, but you didn’t have to watch the woman you love carry another man’s baby, lie next to her and watch her body change because of another man.”
The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet Page 104
