Bet On Me: Royal Bastards MC: Baltimore #1

by Knox, Elizabeth

  “You’re raising the child alone?”

  She shakes her head from side to side, “No, I’m not. This isn’t my baby.”

  Holy hell. Now this just got even more confusing. “I mean, this baby is in my body but I’ve been paid from a surrogacy company to give birth to it.”

  “Oh, so you’re a surrogate?” I question.

  “Yes, to a lovely gay couple. They’re going to make great daddies when their little girl comes busting out into this world.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing. I can’t even imagine carrying the baby for that long and then giving it up,”

  Riva’s expression falters before she quickly recovers herself. “I had a little boy when I was a teenager who I gave up for adoption. It made me have a bigger respect for those who do things like this. I’m going to college and need the money to help pay for classes since I refuse to apply for student loans . . . and it seemed like a way to make something positive happen in this world. Plus, I’ve done it once before so I think I’m good at it.”

  “That’s commendable, and amazing. I’m sorry if I’m being repetitive. I’m in complete awe of your kindness. You don’t get to hear about things like this every day.”

  Riva nods again, “Yeah, I’m a little different than the rest. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get going. There are some things that need to be tended to.”

  Riva starts to walk off but Mammoth grabs her hand, “So, you are single?”

  She giggles like that of a popular schoolgirl, “Yes, I am.” And walks off to where the other flight attendants are.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Life itself is a privilege, but to live life to the fullest — well, that is a choice.”

  ~Andy Andrews

  Gamble

  Three loud beeps come over the speakers, and I see Riva in the front of the plane with a telephone like device, speaking into it. “Good evening passengers. I’m terribly sorry to wake you but I’m afraid we must. After much deliberation our pilot has decided to make an emergency landing in Saint Croix, which is a U.S. Virgin Island. There is a terrible storm over Venezuela and over the next few days it’s only getting progressively worse. For everyone’s safety we must land in Saint Croix. The airline will be making accommodations for everyone at a local hotel, but please know we will try to get you all to Venezuela as soon as possible. Please make sure when we land that you verify you’re logged into your app and we have the correct phone number so we can text you updates.”

  I turn to my left and see Mammoth is conked out, and look to my right to see Hart listening as intently as I am. “Well, looks like our plans have changed.” He smugly jokes.

  “That they have. As soon as we land I’ll be giving Luis a call and notifying him of our troubles. Hopefully he won’t be pissed.”

  “Not your fault if he is. You can’t control mother nature.” Hart tries to reassure me, but Luis has tons to be upset about right now. I only hope the odds are in our favor.

  “He agreed to do business with the club, not Incognito. I’m worried he’ll be pissed we’ve already started up distribution again without his approval. I should’ve asked him before I made the call.”

  “You did what was best for all parties, figuring out a way to make sure not only the club makes money but Luis gets his cut of the funds too. Or would he rather you not make a payment as promised?”

  As much as I don’t want to admit it, Hart makes a fair point. “Thanks.”

  “There’s nothing to thank me for. I should be apologizing to you for what happened when you walked into my bedroom.”

  I can’t help but laugh at his sly way of covering that up. “It’s fine.”

  “It wasn’t fine. It was . . .” Hart suddenly stops speaking as he struggles to find the words.

  “Surprising and hot.” I don’t know what comes over me but it floods out of my mouth before I realize what I’ve even said. Part of me is kicking myself in the butt for admitting I might’ve enjoyed it a bit, while the other part of me is saying I should feel guilty for having felt that way. Dog has been dead for almost two months now . . . and it still feels like it happened yesterday.

  I know he’d never hold me back from finding happiness, but I’m terrified to ever move on with another out of fear. Wouldn’t the same thing happen to whoever I moved on with? Won’t Rancid just kill them out of spite? It’s in his nature after all. There aren’t any rules for that beast.

  Hart wiggles his eyebrows and gives me a sinful smirk. The type that would melt the panties off every woman in a ten-mile radius. “Hot, huh?”

  I nod, “It’s not every day a woman in power has a man fantasize about her. Or at least, I don’t think it happens often.”

  “You’d be surprised. I think a lot of men like women who’re in charge. The idea of dominating them in the bedroom gets us off.”

  Holy fuck, his accent comes out even thicker and I have to cross my legs a bit. These hormones have been driving me a bit insane over the last week or so but I’ve had to manage with handling myself. If you know what I mean. “I never thought about that,” I admit, sucking in a sharp breath.

  “Did you ever want the position you’re in?” Hart turns the tables so quickly I don’t know how to respond. For the first time in my entire life, I’m rendered speechless.

  I think about it for a couple minutes, allowing silence to fill the air and carefully think about how I’m going to respond to him. “I never wanted this, not in my wildest dreams. I had an idea of what I wanted in my life and it never circulated around the club. I was one of those girls who wanted the man, the dog, the white picket fence and the mundane job that caused me to drink wine three nights a week. I didn’t want any of this, the pain, torment, agony. Nor the stress, fear or violence. But life has a way of always keeping us on our toes. In the grand scheme of things, I try to look at everything with a positive outlook. Like, maybe I was supposed to be in this role. Maybe I was supposed to be the Prez and I was supposed to have one great love in my lifetime.”

  “I take it you’re speaking about Dog?”

  I nod, not feeling the need to verbally answer.

  “There’s this old saying that you find three amazing loves in your lifetime. The innocent love, so the crush you have when you’re a kid. The forming love, so essentially the one that helps you see your true worth. Lastly, the everlasting love. That’s the one that you keep until the day you die. If you ask me, I think Dog was your forming love.”

  “You don’t have any right to say that,” I state, getting a little pissed. I thought Dog and I were going to be with one another until we both died. Yet life had different plans for us.

  “Sorry, I have a deceased loved one too so I get it.”

  Hart catches me off guard. I’ve never heard anything about him having a dead girlfriend, wife or anything of the sort. “You do?”

  He nods once, “Yeah, though I don’t like to talk about it. One day I might open up, but please don’t pull your status and pressure me. As you know that shit is painful and I just . . . talking about her crushes me. Her death is part of the reason I left Staten Island and everyone I knew behind.”

  Wow. Okay, so this chick lived back in his home state. “Alright, I won’t push you. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.” I mutter.

  “No, you’re not, and everything you’re feeling right now is normal. Hell, at this point into the loss I remember feeling so guilty all the time for her death. If it wasn’t about how she died it was about wanting to be sexual with others. I kept trying to hide my grief, though, burying it wherever I could. I doubt you’re dumb enough to do the same.”

  “No, I’ve processed it. There’s just so much grief. Everyone important to me always seems to die.” I admit, realizing it in the heat of the moment.

  “Then live your life like every waking moment is precious, with no regrets. That’s how I try to live my life. We only get one shot at this so we’d best not fuck it up.” Hart smiles at the end while he gives me an encouragin
g pep talk.

  He’s right. I need to live every moment like it could be my last. Even more than that, I need to try and live the happiest life I ever can. Dog would want me to be happy. He’d hate it if I was sitting in sadness, mulling over what could’ve been. The sad truth is we’ll never be able to find out what could’ve been because our future was ripped from the two of us.

  All I can do now is prepare for the impending baby that’s growing in my stomach and try to be the best Prez I can ever be.

  I turn my neck to the right and look at Hart, being more honest than I’ve been with anyone. “I don’t know why, but you frustrate me. Maybe it’s the rumors that came from Petros’ club. Maybe it’s how you look like some Italian mafioso. I don’t know. Hell, it could be the way you talk, or how you carry yourself with such confidence . . . but you really have this knack when it comes to looking hot as sin. It’s like you came straight out of hell with your sexy tattoos, provocative smile and inviting accent. Don’t say anything to me after I say this because you know I’m probably going to regret it as soon as I finish blabbing, but I might enjoy watching you do that again sometime, if you’d let me.”

  Hart seems to be pleasantly surprised and starts to say something but I put my finger up to stop him. “Ah-ah. I said no talking. I’m in my fully regretful stage now. Think about what I said and let me know what you think when we get to Saint Croix.”

  Hart chuckles lowly and nods, giving me the only confirmation I need.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Whatever you’re meant to do, do it now. The conditions are always impossible.”

  ~Doris Lessing

  Hart

  Our landing was a bit bumpy but we made it down okay. Gamble was clenching the armrests so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Poor woman. Now we’re on our way to the hotel which isn’t too far from the airport along with our carryon bags. Mammoth on the other hand stayed back to chat with that cute flight attendant some more.

  Gamble and I walk side by side and get to the hotel within about five minutes. We were offered shuttles so we could’ve caught a ride but luckily for me she wanted to walk. Being stuck sitting down for so long was too much for me, my entire body feels stiff as hell.

  We walk up to the hotel the airline got us into and it looks like a fuckin’ Red Roof Inn. The only difference is how it isn’t that chocolate brown and red. This one is a taupe yellow color, really giving you the tropical vibes of the island.

  Gamble and I both walk inside and are greeted by a middle-aged man who asks about our voucher. She shows the man her phone with the information, “There’s three of you? Ah, think I can fit you up on the third floor. One second,” he types away at his computer and within a few moments he’s handing us a pair of old-fashioned hotel keys you’d get back in the eighties.

  “Thank you. Do you guys have room service?” Gamble asks, getting a combination of a scoff and laughter from the man.

  “I’m afraid not, miss. We’re not one of those frou-frou hotels you have on the island. There’s a decent place next door. Just don’t order the seafood.” Damn. In all my life never have I come across someone so blunt and rude at the same time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful he told us about the place next door because I can guarantee neither of us will be eating there.

  With that Gamble gives him a fake as hell smirk and we both exit the lobby area, walk outside and look for the stairwell that leads up to the rooms. It must be a tropical thing, but the walls aren’t closed in here. Instead, they’re open to where air can flow through. It reminds me of old motels I’ve come across in small towns, but Red Roof is the easiest comparison.

  “Could you believe that guy? Man, and I think I’m a straightforward person,” I chuckle, glancing over to her.

  She shrugs her shoulders as she looks down onto the plastic key holder trying to read the room number. “I’d rather be safe than sorry. At least we know to avoid the place next door like the plague.”

  “True,” I reply, taking the keys out of her hands. Shit, this looks like it was written in pencil ten years ago and the paper has gone through the wash half a dozen times.

  “You see the room number on there?”

  “Nope, but looks like we’ll be going up to the third floor and trying every door until it works.”

  Gamble giggles while shaking her head and follows me up the stairwell. When we get to the third floor I do exactly as I said I would and put the key in every door we come across. At least ten minutes pass and not one of them is opening. I’ve just turned the last handle to try it and there’s one more door left to try.

  Yanking the key out I put it in the next doorknob when a burly overweight man who’s naked as the day he was born opens the door and looks to me. “Yo, what the fuck man?”

  “Sorry, brother. The jackass downstairs didn’t tell us which room we were in, just gave us this set of keys with a worn-out number.”

  The chubby man smirks, “You two are more than welcome to come in my room. I never minded a fun little party,” The guy moves his hand and I see he’s stroking his cock right in front of us, and Gamble rushes up to me, turns the knob and we’re both going through the door as quickly as possible.

  She slams it shut behind her and locks it. “Oh my God that was close.”

  “I’m afraid this isn’t the first time a naked man has offered me sex,” I say, falling back onto the palm tree patterned couch in our room.

  Gamble busts out into laughter, “I’m sure it isn’t. With a face like that, who wouldn’t be tempted?”

  My, my. If I’m not mistaken Gamble enjoys flirting with me. Maybe her walking in on me jacking off wasn’t the worst possible thing in the world. “Gamble, are my ears deceiving me? I swear I just heard you compliment this showstopper right here,” I point up to my face, getting an adorable little smirk from her.

  She walks over to one of the queen-sized beds and plops her bag down before she digs her cell out from her small purse. She taps away on the screen and I assume she’s calling Luis to let him know about the trouble we’ve run into.

  “Calling Luis?” I question, getting a nod from her.

  She speaks so lowly into the phone that I can’t make anything out. So, I sit down on the opposite bed and wait patiently while she finishes her phone call. From where I’m sitting, I can look out through the sliding glass window, seeing the mixture of blue and dark gray across the sky. The storms that caused us to have this emergency landing can be seen off in the distance and I’ve never been more thankful to have avoided flying through that.

  I can only hope Luis isn’t too pissed with the hiccup we’ve run into. Gamble plops her ass directly across from me and tosses her cell onto the bed beside her. “He understands the issues we’ve run into, thankfully. Apparently, this storm has been coming up the coast the last few days and rumor is it’ll be pretty nasty. Luis told me to stay here and he’ll come up to meet us when the storm passes. Said it might be a couple of days.”

  “I could think of worse ways to be spending time. We’re lucky enough to be in paradise.” I comment, trying to keep the situation light and positive. If she weren’t pregnant, I might offer to take her out for a drink, but we’re limited when it comes to that so I’ll take her out for food instead. She needs to keep not only her own strength up but get enough nutrition for the kid too and I barely saw her eat anything on the plane.

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “You hungry?” I question, determined to drag her out with me even if she isn’t.

  “Yeah, I could go for some grub. Airplane food just doesn’t cut it.”

  “Great. Let’s walk down the road and see what restaurants we can find.”

  “Sure, just promise me one thing,” Gamble says.

  “We won’t be going next door.” I assure her with a chuckle at which point she walks toward the door, signaling she’s ready to go.

  Chapter Eighteen

  You cannot heal in the same environment where you got sick />
  ~Unknown

  Gamble

  Hart and I have been walking for the last couple of minutes passing numerous restaurants. They all seem like stuff we’d see back in the States, so I don’t want to go in any of them. St. Croix may be part of the U.S. Virgin Islands but I still think there’s a big aspect of tourism here.

  I haven’t travelled to many places in my life. Most of them were where Rancid ended up carting me to, however when he let me go back to Baltimore I was able to experience a bit more of the world. One day Dog took me up to Philadelphia because I’d never had an authentic cheesesteak. It was one of the best days of my life and I remember it like it was yesterday.

  “What’re you smiling so big about?” Hart’s question pulls me out of my daze.

  For a second I debate on whether or not I’m going to tell him. Part of me thinks I shouldn’t share the happy parts of my history with Dog, but the other part of me says it’s wrong to hide what we were. “This one time Dog took me into Philly because I never had a cheesesteak before. I was thinking about that and how walking down the street with you is giving me another authentic cuisine experience.”

  “Sounds like he was a really decent guy,” Hart says, slowing up his pace. A lot of people say shit like that out of respect although Hart isn’t saying it out of obligation. He really means it. I haven’t known the guy for long, but my father taught me as a young girl you can see someone’s soul through their eyes.

  Hart is a good soul. He isn’t corrupted, or hate driven like others I know too well.

  “He was . . . Dog was one of the good ones. Even though he knew how negative the world we live in is, he always wanted to leave it a little bit better than it was before.”

  Hart nods a couple times, “Sounds like you really loved him.”