Reclaimed (Knights Rebels MC #2.5)

by River Savage

  Halting me for a moment, I watch her take everything in around her. These moments, the ones like this, when she looks up at me, her small face recognizing and knowing me, this is what I had envisioned when I thought about becoming a mother, when I grew her in my belly. But these moments are fleeting, barely satisfying me anymore. I love Harlow more than anything, but I’m exhausted. I’m afraid and I feel alone. I’m tired of hiding my despair that I’m not a good mother, or that I’m going to fail her. Even if she does melt my heart, it doesn’t stop me from questioning. Am I enough? The hopelessness grows day by day, while an unrelenting force keeps pushing me down, lower, deeper and heavier and even on the days I want to fight it, I can’t.

  “Hey, Low.” I smile awkwardly and stand there not understanding how irresolute I had become.

  “She seems really hungry,” Z prompts, forcing me to bend at the waist, and pick her up from her crib. I keep myself in check, needing to get through the next twenty minutes. You can’t fuck this up when you’re her mother, I remind myself as I place her gently down on the matching oak change table and focus on changing her diaper.

  Even this task puts me on edge. Nix has been the one who’s been hands on the last seven weeks. I barely know what to do. It’s not that I don’t want to know, but more I don’t know how to want to. If it weren’t for the fact I’ve been trying hard to hide that I’m failing miserably at this mother gig, I would have the sense to ask Nix how he’s coping. It’s not that I don’t care how he is feeling, somewhere deep down inside of me, a small piece is dealing with guilt. Guilt for not caring enough, or for not being happy enough, hell, for not wanting any part of it. I don’t know what is happening to me. Spending my days tired, angry and in tears has become my normal. Low is everything I asked for, everything I need. So why does it feel like I have made a mistake?

  Holly and my mom voiced their reassurances, suggesting I was just tired. Baby blues is what they called it. But I can’t help fear the question I keep asking myself: what if it’s more? Was having Harlow a mistake? Did I rush into things when I wasn’t ready? The same apprehensions flow through me now just as they have done the past few weeks. I can’t pinpoint the moment I realized being a mother wasn’t what I was expecting. Yeah, I read the books, searched the forums, but nothing really prepares you for what’s to come. No one tells you that having a baby could make you feel so out of control, or lonely. That small, everyday tasks would become insurmountable hurdles. No one tells you, you will spend your days worrying if you’re doing everything right, and your nights crying when you fail. But the most heartbreaking thing of all is the numbness. No one told me about the numb feeling, or that it would be the most excruciating pain I would ever experience, even if some days I didn’t care.

  Shaking my head clear of the thoughts I can’t afford to have, I carefully pick up Harlow and sit down in the rocking chair that Nix’s father, Red, made for us. When we came home from the hospital with Low, our chair was waiting for us. A note attached telling me Red refurbished the same chair that Nix’s mother nursed in.

  No one has ever made me a chair before, and the small act of love Red showed me makes me want to sit in the chair every day. But what I love most about our chair, is the sense of peace it gives me. It’s as if I’m chasing peace every second of my day, but when I sit in my rocking chair, the same chair I knew Nix was rocked in, peace never evades me.

  “You want to give me fifteen minutes Z, then she’s all yours?” I ask Z.

  “Sure.” He smiles, touching his sister’s head once more. “I’ll watch some TV.” He walks out not waiting for my reply.

  “You’re not going to give me a hard time are you, Low baby?” I ask, looking down at her as she tries to pull at a stray hair which has fallen from my messy bun. Lifting my shirt, I unclasp my bra and pray to the breastfeeding gods that by some miracle, Harlow has learned how to latch on properly. Resting back, I position her in my arms and before her small pink lips encircle my nipple, the tears begin to fall because I know what’s about to happen. I know for the next fifteen minutes, I’ll endure the pain of what feeding my child does to me. The stinging will begin as pain shoots through my breast and I won’t be able to control the sob that rips from my mouth. I know I will have to resist the need to pull her away, and vow to not feed her anymore. Then the guilt will come, guilt knowing I can’t do anything right. I’ll try to fight the discontent that weighs heavy on my shoulders. Try to keep the thoughts that this is what she brought into my life away as a small piece of hate eats away at my soul. I fight all these demons alone and broken.

  Her small hand will reach up and touch my face, but I’ll miss it all, because even if it’s the most beautiful thing in the world, I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the pain and I can’t bear to look at my daughter.

  I’m a terrible mother.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Nix

  “Hey, boss man.” Jesse, my sergeant at arms, looks up from his position, bent over the pool table.

  “Hey.” I nod, and walk straight to my office.

  “What are you doing here?” he calls, but I’m so tightly wound up that I don’t stop to answer. Slamming the door shut, I plant my ass in my office chair and let out a shaky breath. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left her. My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, ready to see Kadence’s name flash. Instead, Holly’s name comes up.

  “Yeah?” I answer, knowing this call is important.

  “She called.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and ask what I needed to know. “She sound okay?”

  “She didn’t sound too bad, but I could hear a little panic. You sure this is a good idea?”

  Am I sure? Fuck, I’m not sure of anything these days. “I don’t know what else to do, Holly. I’ve tried talking to her. She just shuts down. She won’t go to the doctors. I’m not going to force her, but we can’t keep doing everything for her. Besides, Z is there and I trust that she will cope.” I believe those words leaving my mouth more than anything. Kadence would never do anything to hurt Low. Her fears and insecurities come from the idea of failing Low or not being the best for her. This fucked-up thinking she has is only amplified by the fact that Low just won’t settle.

  “You should talk to her, Nix. Tell her what you need from her.”

  “I’ve tried, Hol. She won’t listen. The only way I can help her is by showing her this isn’t normal.”

  “We both know she’s aware it’s not normal, Nix.”

  “Well, if you have a better idea, have at it!” I snap, taking my frustration out on her. I hear Sy in the background, and I know he’ll be pissed if I upset his woman. “Sorry, I’m just trying to deal.”

  “It’s okay. You’re tired. I’m not just worried about her but about you, too.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Let’s just focus on Kadence, yeah?” I ask, not needing a therapy session. I just need my fucking wife back.

  “Mom and I are going to come over tomorrow. We can talk to her again then,” she says, giving me some small hope.

  “Call Kadence’s mom. You’ll need reinforcements,” I add, knowing how bad she was today. Maybe if she hears if from all four of us together, she might listen to what we have to say.

  “Right, okay, well, keep me posted,” she rushes, ending the conversation. I know she likes to think she has it under control, but Holly feels as helpless as I do.

  “Yeah,” I reply before hanging up. I pocket my phone and rest my head on the desk. Jesus, who would have thought ten months ago this is where we would be? Me, hanging in my fucking office, hiding from my wife.

  Unease settles in my gut. Feeling disconnected with her burns me, but what eats at me more than anything is knowing she is suffering. Whatever is going on, I just wish we could fucking sort it, move on from it and be a fucking family again.

  I fucking miss my wife.

  ***

  “How you doin’, bud?” I ask Z as I walk through the door a few hours later. After I
got off the phone with Holly, I lost myself in some paperwork. During the past seven weeks, I’ve neglected my duties in the club. Beau, my VP, has had to step up and take on my work while the rest of the boys have been dealing with their own shit: Sy with Inked Me, and Jesse with Liquid.

  “Good,” Z mumbles, continuing into the kitchen. I follow behind him feeling some tension.

  “You okay?” I put my keys and wallet down on the counter and watch him carefully.

  “You told her thirty minutes,” he snaps, anger dancing in my son’s eyes.

  He’s pissed.

  “She okay?” I ask, not certain I want to know the answer.

  “She’s hiding in the bathroom.” He places his dish in the sink, starting to wash it. I don’t respond. I just watch him.

  If Kadence is in the bathroom, then he’s been looking after Low.

  “Low okay?” I swallow past the anger and defeat that begins to grow. I hate this, fucking hate it for Z and Low, but hate it more for Kadence.

  “I rocked her ‘til she fell asleep.”

  “You’re a good big brother, Z.” I give him a smile. He doesn’t smile back; instead, he looks so confused.

  “What’s happening, Dad?” he asks straight to the point, looking as unsure as I feel. I step forward and wrap my arms around him. Fuck, when did he get so grown up?

  “We got some shit to get through, bud, but we’re gonna get there. Know that we are gonna fix it.” I kiss the top of his head.

  “Is it something that I did?” his small voice asks. And the young man who just called me out for taking longer than I should have, seems so small; worried he’s done something to cause the darkness in our home.

  “Bud, this isn’t about you. I promise. This is somethin’ that Kadence and I need to work through.”

  “But I don’t want you to get a divorce.” His arms squeeze me on the last word. Fuck me. Divorce?

  “Hey.” I pull back, looking him straight in his eyes. “That’s not ever gonna happen, Z. I promise you. Sometimes it takes a while to adjust with a new baby. You have nothin’ to worry about, okay?” I hold his gaze, needing him to understand this isn’t about him. He slowly nods in my arms as I hold him a little longer before I step back.

  “You okay?” I ask, watching him wipe his eyes. It’s moments like this, I want to shake her, show her what she is missing. The Kadence I knew would rather die than hurt our son, but now, he’s standing in front of me trying to hold his shit together and she wouldn’t give one fuck.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna go play Xbox.” He walks out and I give myself a moment to cool down. Fuck. I knew things were bad, knew I was losing control, but I thought I was protecting Z from it. I was clearly fucking wrong.

  After calming myself, I take the steps two at a time and go to find my wife. I’m at the end of my rope. Something has got to fucking give, something to get her to realize that what is happening can no longer go on.

  “Kadence?” I knock on the bathroom door and wait for her to answer. “Kadence,” I call again when she doesn’t respond. I know when she is stressed, when things become too much for her, she likes to hide in here. The first time she checked out, I found her sitting in the empty tub, staring vacantly ahead. I didn’t know what the fuck was happening. I walked in late one day with Low screaming in her crib, a confused Z by her side trying to keep her calm, and Kadence sitting in an empty shower, ignoring us all. It took me thirty minutes for her to come back, but it was like a piece of her was missing

  “Kadence, just fuckin’ respond.” I knock again, that small unease in my gut twitches, and something unsettling has my next knock turning into a bang when my arm reaches up again. She doesn’t respond and the dread that forms in the pit of my gut twists into something that I wasn’t prepared for.

  “Open this fuckin’ door before I knock it down.” My fear comes out as anger, but each second she doesn’t respond, is another second that my doubt takes over. I step back, lift my leg, and in one forceful kick, I break past the lock; the door flying back in a loud thud. My eyes scan the bathroom in frantic need to know she is safe, that she hasn’t done something stupid, something I would never forgive her for. My body convulses when I see her sitting on the shower floor.

  Her head comes up, surprise written all over her face as if my entry into the bathroom is a shock. I can see she has been crying, but the despair and anger ripping through my body doesn’t let me register what she needs. I’m too pissed off.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I spit out, watching her body recoil from my words.

  She recovers, but doesn’t respond, just looks at me so devoid of anything which only causes my anger to grow. Stepping forward, I pull the glass shower door open while she continues to look straight through me. My first instinct is to pick her up and shake some life back into her, but I know she’s so far in her head right now, it won’t get me anywhere. Instead, my hand goes to the tap, not bothering to warm the water, and I let it rush over her. Her gasp fills the small glass enclosed area right before she moves to escape, but I react quicker, holding my frame in the door way.

  “Fuckin’ talk to me, dammit!” I shout and she trembles under my stare.

  “Where the fuck were you?” She finally reacts, trying to push me out of the way. “You left. You said thirty minutes, Nix.” Her fists connect with my chest and her voice cracks as she begins to sob.

  My arms come around her, pulling her wet body into mine, holding her while she screams out and comes undone. I fucked up. I know I did, but I can’t help feel a small glimmer of hope grow in me that she’s finally reacting. I hold her for a brief moment, the water still falling over her back, splashing both of us. I reach back and shut it off, holding her firmly in my arms.

  “Just breathe, baby.” I reach for the towel and wrap her tightly in it. Silent sobs rack her body. “Deep breaths,” I encourage again, when I sense her losing the battle to control them. I fucking hate myself knowing I did this to her, but I don’t know how much more of it I can handle. It takes her a few more minutes before her breathing slows and her sobs finally fade.

  I don’t move her, afraid to set off another round, so I hold her in my arms, praying I haven’t just fucked up shit even more. Hoping that eventually she will talk, because somewhere deep down inside of me, I have that sinking feeling. The one that tells me if things don’t change, I don’t know how much longer I’ll have her for. And not having Kadence in my life, is not an option.

  It will never be a fucking option.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kadence

  I sit on the side of the bathtub as Nix dries me off. My clothes stick to my body and my hair hangs over my face. I don’t say anything. I can’t even look at him let alone talk to him. How could he just leave me?

  After I fed Low, Z came up and played with her a little while I sat and watched them. I can’t pinpoint exactly what it was that set me off. Low was being fussy, as usual. Z was asking questions and as the time ticked over, Nix was getting later and later. It all became too much—my unease rose inside of me with each minute that passed. The pressure of when, or if he was even coming home at all amplified the panic that lay dormant in me.

  “Baby?” Nix calls, pulling me from my thoughts. I used to like it when he called me baby, when he would touch me, make me feel beautiful, but now somewhere in my mind, the word baby doesn’t represent what it once did. His touch doesn’t soothe me like it used to, and not one part of me feels beautiful.

  “What?” I shrug him off, not wanting his hands on me as I slide down from where he placed me.

  “We need to talk about what happened.” He follows me into our bedroom, clearly looking for a fight. He does this all the time, pushing me deliberately until he gets the reaction he wants. It’s in those moments I feel like he is judging me.

  “I’m really tired. I’m going to bed.” I turn and pull out sweats and one of Nix’s old club tees from my dresser.

  “No, we are gonna talk now.” I ignore him, n
ot in the mood for this tonight. Moving to walk past him, his hand comes out, wrapping around my bicep.

  “Get the fuck off me,” I hiss, pulling out of his hold as he reels back at my tone.

  “Kadence.” He moves in but my hand comes up.

  “You touch me again and I’m out. I’m not even kidding, Nix. I will pack a bag so goddamn fast you won’t even see it coming,” I threaten. My head is all over the place, my mind in a constant battle with itself. Fuck, how did it get like this?

  “What the hell, Kadence?”

  “I can’t handle you being late,” I shout, pointing to the broken bathroom door. All of my insecurities, feelings of being hopeless, fears of failing, surface to the top as my anger flows through me. “I fucking lost it tonight because of you not coming home when you said you would!”

  “Dad?” Z calls through the door, halting whatever was about to go down between us.

  “Go,” I whisper, afraid of what Z’s already heard. Knowing our son waits on the other side of the door alone has Nix looking torn. His eyes pleading with me for something I can’t give him.

  “Yeah, coming, bud,” he calls out as I walk past him. I don’t give him another chance to try to talk to me; instead, I head back into the bathroom. My safe place.

  “This conversation isn’t over. We will talk about this, Kadence,” he warns, but I don’t respond. What is there to say? He left, came home, and found me at my worst. It wasn’t the first time it’s happened.

  I hear the bedroom door open and then shut. I let out an unsteady breath I didn’t know I was holding. Peeling myself out of my wet clothes, I re-dress and rush through my bedtime routine. It’s not yet dinner time, but the reality of the day is too much for my state. I know Nix must be worried, coming home to see me like this, but sometimes just stepping away when the darkness starts to consume me helps.