Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “Probably ain’t,” Outlaw agrees, giving a fuck about what others think about him even less than I do. Only his feelings are real. Mine never have been. That’s why I’ve been so miserable.

  I wanted to belong and, like Georgie, I wanted to matter to my family.

  Toddlers and babies are all around me. At two and a half, Ryan is the eldest and is the son of the RC and his wife, whose second son, Devon, is almost seven months. Meggie and Outlaw’s son is CJ, who is two and completely fascinated with the man who enforces shit, eight-month-old daughter, Harley. The little girl seems to enjoy tormenting him as she crawls around. He keeps Ryan at an arm’s length away from her, although he ignores his five-month-old twin siblings, Rebel and Rule, before Meggie decides it’s too noisy and leaves with them. A few minutes later, she returns, holding a baby monitor. When CJ loses interest in Harley and joins Ryan, they are holy terrors together. Rory, John Boy’s son with his wife, is a week younger than Devon. It’s a baby factory in this room. Noisy and happy and carefree.

  We’re sitting in the room Abby slept in with Bryn. To me, it seems like a small dorm turned into a playroom. There are nine cots stacked against a wall. A rollaway bed was added on Abby’s behalf, but judging by the padding on the floor, the baby swings, and four baby beds, a place for Bryn was already set up.

  I’m most curious about Meggie, who seems my age. That’s impossible. Her son is already two. That would’ve made her fifteen when she had him. My main question is how did she overcome her fear of motherhood and get pregnant again so quickly to have had twins months ago. This group of women seem so close, laughing and joking about their husbands. I have one of those too, but I still feel sad and lost. Even reunited with Bryn and rocking her in one of several rocking chairs. It’s a new experience holding her and feeding her with a bottle. Her eyes are still blue, a little brighter, and I think they will remain that color. They haven’t left my face since I picked her up from the baby bed and hugged her to me, sobbing softly against her tummy.

  She cried at first. I remembered to change her diaper although that didn’t soothe her. Just when I was ready to hand her to Abby because I was afraid she’d forgotten me and needed her comfort, she’d settled. Between then and now, a woman named Bunny came in and left, only to return a little while later with Bryn’s bottle.

  “Georgie, are you hungry?” Meggie calls.

  “I’m making pizza,” Bunny offers, twisting her hair up into a ponytail. She’s wearing a cut that has Property of Death Dwellers MC written on the back.

  Everyone falls silent and looks at me expectantly. “Yeah. Pizza is fine.”

  “Check on the twins,” Meggie calls.

  I grin at her shyly, satisfied that I’m not the only mom who needs more than a monitor to keep tabs on my child.

  “Babe, are you sure you’re okay?” Abby asks after Bunny leaves, concern etching her brow. “I mean other than the wounds you’re recovering from.”

  “Gunshots are hell to recover from,” the RC’s wife, Zoann, says with a nod. “I was shot while I was carrying Devon.”

  My eyes widen at her news. She lifts the scrubs she’s wearing and shows me a scar on her side and one on her chest.

  “My brother has a lot of enemies,” she says quietly.

  “I thought you were in it because of your husband,” I blurt, a little confused.

  “The rude barbarian, Outlaw, is my husband,” Meggie offers, then points to Zoann. “And her brother.”

  I giggle in surprise. “I call Sloane a barbarian, too.”

  “No, there’s no one as barbaric as Christopher Caldwell,” the woman named Kendall says with a tight frown.

  Meggie rolls her eyes. “Around here Christopher is known as Psycho Stalker Wildman, so Sloane can have the title of Barbarian.”

  “That’s because Christopher’s fucking crazy,” Zoann grumbles.

  The other girl, Bailey, moves where she’s laying on the rollaway bed and lifts her head. “I’m castrating Lucas,” she complains.

  “Um, yeah. No,” Kendall says with a smirk. “None of us could live long without our husbands making love to us.”

  “I know, right?” Meggie agrees, laughing and turning to Bailey. “Mortician will be happy to hear about the new baby.”

  Bailey purses her mouth. “I guess. He has so much on his mind.”

  “I know,” Meggie says with a sigh. “Christopher has been grouchy with me, too.”

  “He wasn’t today, Meggie,” I tell her, remembering the moment she came through the door and Outlaw lost the hostility that had been wafting from him.

  “Only because he’s pissed that Cash ignored the lockdown to bring your problems to us.” I frown and she winces. “I don’t mean it like that. Tensions are running high and he isn’t thinking normally.”

  “As opposed to when?” Kendall asks sweetly.

  Narrowing her eyes, Meggie yanks a pillow from behind her and lobs it in Kendall’s direction. The redhead pokes her tongue out. Although they’re joking with each other, there’s something else there, too. Megan Caldwell and Kendall Donovan have a history and I don’t think it’s a very pretty one.

  “Anyway,” Meggie grits, looks up and around, then toward the door and leans closer. “He has cameras all around,” she whispers. “Digger got out bad and is now with his father, who’s plotting not only the club’s downfall but Christopher’s, as well.”

  “Yes, and Lucas is Digger’s real brother,” Bailey adds with a sigh. “Digger betrayed the club. My husband has to hunt his own brother and kill him.”

  “And one of Christopher’s officers is just fully recovered because of a brutal attack on him,” Zoann continues.

  “This is ten times worse than when the Torps were dealt with,” Kendall offers, heading to the bed where Rory is starting to move. She lifts him into her arms and smiles at him. “Hello, my darling. I missed you.”

  Acceptance and camaraderie abound between everyone, extending to me, for which I’m grateful. As Cash’s little sister, I’m deemed trustworthy. We’re all family, otherwise spilling club business as they are would overstep all kinds of boundaries. Even I know that much about MCs.

  Rory yawns and makes a little baby noise.

  “It’s been nice meeting you, Georgie,” Kendall says, heading for the door. “See you all at dinner.”

  Bailey gets up from her space on the bed and goes to where Harley is in the swing, with CJ keeping watch over her. When Bailey lifts her up, the little boy rises up and glares at her, his green eyes and black hair turning him into a mini version of his father.

  “Harwey mine.” He points to the swing. “Bye, Ant Bail.”

  “Enough, Christopher Joseph,” Meggie reprimands sharply. “Harley leaves with Aunt Bailey, so she can see Uncle Mort.”

  He screws his face up. “I love Harwey,” he cries.

  “Harley,” Meggie corrects, enunciating the name slowly.

  CJ grins at her. “Har-WAY,” he yells, giggling when Harley peeks over her shoulder at him and laughs.

  Meggie holds out her arms, stopping his advancement on the little girl. “Come here, buddy.”

  “Fuck in, hell, Mommie.”

  “Time out!” Meggie yells, jumping to her feet. She clutches his hand and guides him to a chair. “Two minutes. I’ve told you not to use bad language.”

  “Law does.”

  “He’s right, Meggie,” Zoann says, clearing her throat to hide her laughter. She nods. “Christopher needs the time-out. Not CJ.”

  “Sowwy, Mommie,” the child says after a minute passes and Bailey has left with her daughter. “Sowwy,” he says again because Meggie hasn’t answered.

  “I can see it now,” Zoann begins with flare. “CJ charming the pants off every girl he comes across, including Harley.”

  “Shut. Up,” Meggie snaps.

  “Come on, Ryan,” Zoann calls to her son, who is playing with blocks, content to be alone. She scoops Devon into her arms and pauses. “Can I take CJ with us?�
��

  “Go ahead,” Meggie sighs, and signals to CJ to go with his aunt and cousins.

  Moments later, only Meggie, Abby, and I remain, and the chaos I’d walked into morphs into blissful peace.

  “Bryn’s beautiful,” Meggie says softly, her smile tender and genuine while she stares at my daughter’s dark head.

  “Thank you.”

  Abby gets to her feet. “I’m going to help Bunny out in the kitchen,” she announces, and pauses long enough to hug me before leaving me alone with Meggie.

  Mom taught me to never pry into other people’s business, especially another woman’s. But Abby and I became friends because she started off with openness and allowed me to ask any questions I needed to.

  Bryn’s eyes have closed in sleep. Staring at her sweet face overwhelms me with emotions, and I want a couple of years to enjoy her alone, as Sloane and I learn to be parents.

  “What made you finally decide to get pregnant again?” I ask, unsure where to start this conversation. I squirm. “I-I…Sloane wants another baby…I mean he wants me pregnant again as soon as possible. I’d like to wait. Like you have.”

  I don’t know her or her story, but she’s the only person who might be able to identify with me, simply because of the similarities of our situations.

  Instead of replying, she stares at me, and heat sweeps through my cheeks. “Oh my goodness, that’s none of my business. I’m so sorry.”

  She clears her throat. “It isn’t that. I’m just trying to think of the best way to answer your question.”

  “Honestly is a good start.”

  Flushing, she gives me a small smile. “I didn’t wait by choice. My son was only a few months old when I got pregnant with another boy.” She glances away and swallows. “I lost him and was told not to try for any more kids for a while. My twins…” She cocks her head to the side. “It’s funny how it went from Christopher not caring if I kept getting pregnant to not wanting any children at all. He didn’t want the twins. Not until I gave birth to them and survived.”

  I gasp at her words, but she continues talking, unfazed.

  “What’s the rush for more kids?”

  The reason Sloane is so determined I get pregnant again sends embarrassment through me. I hesitate to tell Meggie. She may start to judge me, just like Mom did. I’m not sure why I remember everything that my mother taught or said to me. It isn’t as if I’m purposely trying to torture myself or grieve. But I am grieving for her.

  Meggie sighs and she starts to talk.

  “I was an addict,” I blurt and bite my lip at the shock on her face. “Sloane’s worried that I’ll return to coke if I’m not pregnant.”

  “I was a cutter, Georgie,” she admits. “I stopped because the trigger was removed. My stepfather was abusive. I only found power when I cut myself. It was my choice. The bite of a blade took it away.” She rubs her head. “I…after I met Christopher I felt safe and protected. That doesn’t mean I stopped completely. I went back to cutting when something happened here. Even now, he hides his blades, although I’ve figured where most of them are. It’s the only way to put his mind at ease though.”

  “Are you saying I should get pregnant again?” I ask in a small voice, not mentioning that Sloane’s made love to me several times already and I’m not on any birth control. “To make him rest easier?”

  “Absolutely not. The only thing you can do is reassure him until he believes you. It’s your body. If you aren’t ready, it’ll be worse for you to bring another baby into the world.”

  “But I love him,” I whine. “Sorry. I’m sure you don’t understand how I don’t want to do this yet, but I want to please him, too.”

  “I understand more than you know,” she says with soft laughter. “Do you know Kendall? The tall, gorgeous redhead?”

  I nod. She’s unforgettable in her beauty.

  “She’s an attorney. I wanted a career like her and Zoann—a nurse—but I’m so satisfied being Christopher’s wife and my kids’ mother. Kind of confusing, yes?”

  More at ease, I smile though I still want to cry. I want to wake up and discover my mother’s death is a repeat of the nightmare I had months ago when she and I floated in a nebulous void. She had a rope around her broken neck. Gasping, I cover my mouth. Did I foreshadow her suicide?

  Is that even possible?

  “Are you okay?” Meggie’s concerned voice floats to me, and I struggle with the images in my head and the hurt coursing through me.

  “My mother was buried two days ago.”

  “Oh, Georgie! I’m so sorry.”

  It was all over the television, too. Whoever is connected to Sloane in such a personal way is suddenly famous and has an elevated status in life. If Mom had only survived her mental illness, she would’ve discovered people knew her by association.

  “She hung herself,” I tell her, breaking down in gut-wrenching sobs because she’s gone and all day, I haven’t been able to stop imagining her dead body. I saw it in my nightmare.

  I hold Bryn tighter while Meggie rubs my back and allows me to cry and explain the whole sordid story about Sloane and Mom, Abby and Dad, and where I fit into all of it. I tell her how I want to believe Sloane hasn’t cheated on me.

  “It wouldn’t be his fault if he did. I never told him I expected otherwise.”

  “You didn’t have to tell him,” Meggie retorts. “He knows what you expect. That’s why he told you he’s stopped sleeping with other women.”

  “But you saw him! He’s everywhere with all these gorgeous women on his arms.”

  “Actually, I didn’t see him. I don’t follow him or his band that closely that I’d pay attention.”

  I sniffle, still surprised that there are people in the world who aren’t Phoenicians.

  “Does Christopher cheat?”

  “No,” she says without hesitation. “That isn’t to say the beginning of our relationship wasn’t hard and filled with other women. He’s a biker and he’s gorgeous. Women are still…were still around, and will be again when this latest incident is dealt with.”

  “Could you forgive him if he’d slept with your mother?”

  A sad smile passes over her face. “I forgave him for killing my father,” she whispers and squeezes my hand. “Christopher and I are friends. I want to punch him sometimes because he makes me so mad, but I adore him. We respect each other and we carry each other. He’s mine and I’m his, and no one can change that or take it from us.”

  “So you two have similar interests, despite the age difference?”

  She holds out her hands for Bryn and smiles as I put my daughter in her arms, before continuing. “The women you met. Zoann, Bailey, and Kendall? Their stories are theirs to tell, but I know for a fact that they love their husbands just as much. Kendall and Johnnie are the most alike. They’re both beautiful and educated and goal-oriented.” She smiles with fondness. “They’re also both pretty snarky. It didn’t matter though because their road to their happiness was the longest and the hardest. Liking the same things helps, but friendship, loyalty, and respect matters more. Are you and Sloane friends?”

  “Yes.” We are. Whatever else that happened between us, we became friends months ago.

  “So you like him?”

  “Um…that’s an odd question. But yeah, I like him.”

  “As a person, I mean.”

  I roll my eyes and sniff. “I know what you mean.”

  “He likes you?”

  My brows draw together. As a lover, he never complains. As a person, though he wants me to change. “I think,” I say morosely. “As long as I don’t curse. Then, he makes a big deal out of it.”

  “I don’t curse, so that isn’t an issue with Christopher and I. If I did and he told me to stop or else, he’d have problems. Zoann? She’s a Donovan, through and through. She’ll curse you out just as quickly as she’ll punch you. Val dare not try to change her if he wants teeth left in his mouth.”

  I giggle, then sober immediately. “Do
you think it’s because I’m so young that he feels it necessary to dictate to me? I-I mean what happens when…suppose I decide to push back? Will he still love me?”

  “I’ll finally be twenty-one in a couple of months and Christopher will be thirty-six in five months. I’ve grown up a lot since I arrived here. But I haven’t outgrown Christopher because he allows me to grow.”

  “I’m turning eighteen in five weeks.”

  “Milestones for both of us,” she teases with a clap. “We should totally have a big party together since my birthday is so close to yours.”

  “Would you care if the band plays?”

  “Not at all.”

  “You may not like me once you meet Kiln,” I say. “The dickhole will have fun terrorizing you.”

  “I don’t think so,” she says with a snort. “Christopher will shoot him. Who is he, anyway?”

  “My dickhead brother-in-law and Sloane’s personal bodyguard. And your husband wouldn’t even know about it. He does shit on the sly.”

  “Um, yes, he would. I would tell my husband.”

  I sigh and rub my forehead. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just kind of hard to tell Sloane that Kiln scared the shit out of me and sucked my tit when I was still nursing Bryn. I didn’t know where to begin to tell him.”

  “I know that feeling,” Meggie mumbles.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Outlaw swigs from his bottle of tequila. “Relax, motherfucker. The fucker crazy enough to breach club premises ain’t been born yet.”

  “Or already dead cuz we caught his dumb ass,” Mortician offers.

  I laugh at their camaraderie and the genuine brotherhood they have. My band members and I seem to be repairing our relationship slowly.

  “Sloane?” Val calls, smoke from his cigarette circling his head. “I want to hear about the amazing fucking you had with groupies.”

  “You’re a fucking pervert,” Johnnie says, snickering, then looks at me. “Excuse him.”

  “Yeah, cuz he’s a dumb motherfucker,” Outlaw growls, glaring at him. “Assfuck, the man wife on fuckin’ premises. You askin’ him to spill the beans when his girl can walk in is like you fuckin’ askin’ me to talk about the bitches I stuck my dick in before I met Megan.”