by Nicole Fox
Mickey hesitated. The brief silence hung in the air while he waited for her to finish the thought. But then she threw up her hands and scoffed. “I don’t even know why I’m talking about this. Just don’t … don’t do anything stupid, Chop. That’s it; that’s all I’m gonna say. I’m out of here.” The last he saw of her was her back as he stood dumbly in the hall outside the war room, watching her leave.
Her words stuck in the back of his mind. Don’t do anything stupid.
He grimaced, pushing them away. What the hell did Mickey know? She was a good scout, but he didn’t care about her nursing, and he didn’t care about the pregnancy, except for how it affected his plans. So, Spike’s old lady might be pregnant — even more reason not to lay hands on her once he’d snatched her up, as far as he was concerned. Besides, he knew the whole thing could easily just be a rumor that got a little out of control. Motorcycle clubs weren’t immune to gossip.
He took a deep breath and told himself none of that mattered. He had what he needed from Mickey, which meant that his men could be mobilized. Full steam ahead.
On his walk through the compound to find Red, Chopper could feel the adrenaline already pumping through his blood. Despite the less-than-optimal new circumstances, it was a huge relief to do something other than sit around and wait. And it was always refreshing to know that even after years of duking it out with the Mongols, he could still feel the thrill of the fight.
He found Red in the game room, frowning over a game of pool. As he approached the table, Chopper grabbed a cue off the wall and lined up a shot. “We’re ready,” he said in a conversational tone, not even looking up from the felt. “Get some boys together for a Mongol stakeout.” His shot fired off, sinking a solid into the corner pocket. “Don’t know how long it’s gonna take, but as soon as you see her, grab her.”
Red stared at the table contemplatively. “She gonna leave for sure?”
“Yep.” Chopper didn’t know until that moment whether or not he was going to tell anyone else about the theoretical baby, and he decided not to. He knew that if it was real, eventually she would start to show, but maybe this would all be done by then, and he could wash his hands of the whole thing. “Remember what I said, man. No one touches her.”
“No worries.” Red turned away from the game and hung up his cue. “We’ll save that shit for the boss man.” He grinned, winked, and slipped out, the second person in less than ten minutes to leave Chopper alone with his thoughts. Chopper wandered over to the sofa and dropped himself onto it, the leather squeaking beneath him.
He ran his hands through his hair. This wasn’t really what he’d bargained for when he made the choice to challenge the Mongols. In fact, this kind of drama was exactly what he’d hoped to avoid by not confronting Spike directly. He shook his head. It never failed; in this life, complications always found him.
But who said it had to be complicated? Baby or no baby, all he was doing was transferring custody of Spike’s old lady to the Savage Outlaws for a while. As long as Lawler didn’t pull anything crazy, he could have her back, for all Chopper cared. He wasn’t interested in the girl, only in the price she’d command. And once Chopper got what he wanted, as he always did, he’d set her free. If she chose to go back to the Mongol leader, that was her problem, not his.
His phone went off, pulling him out of his fugue. He checked the caller ID and thumbed the green button when he saw his shop come up on the screen. Bike Out of Hell was his pet project, his pride and joy, his not-so-secret chop shop. Just seeing its name brightened his spirits.
“This is Chopper,” he said, getting to his feet. Even if they didn’t need him to come down, he thought he would anyway, just to look at the place. It soothed him to be there among the machines he loved most. Sure, some of them were stolen, but in his view, if a man couldn’t take proper measures to protect his ride, he didn’t deserve it anyway. Dog-eat-dog world and all that.
“Hey, boss. We got some new acquisitions this afternoon, if you wanna come take a look. Think they’ll make us a pretty penny.”
It was everything Chopper needed to hear. He felt himself grinning. “You just made my week,” he answered. Suddenly, nothing seemed half as gloomy as it had a moment ago. He whistled as he headed out for the shop. It was all going according to plan.
Chapter Two
Kelsey
A week later, Kelsey still felt the same stomach-wrenching panic she’d experienced the first time she laid eyes on that stupid little stick as it showed her two lines instead of the one she had desperately hoped for. She still had the damned thing, too — she couldn’t risk throwing it out, in case Spike somehow found it before she got a chance to tell him.
He never went into her bathroom, but she wouldn’t put it past him to root through her trash. The nosy, jealous prick. Ever since he’d made her his old lady, she hadn’t gone more than a couple of hours without either seeing or hearing from him, and God help her if she didn’t reply in time. He’d already come bursting into her room in a rage more times than she could count, and she was only going on five months with the Mongols. She had no idea how he’d react once she told him she was carrying a baby — especially because she was almost positive it wasn’t even his.
Kelsey sat on the edge of her bed, holding her head in her hands. She massaged her temples gently, trying to stave off a massive headache. She’d just gotten back from a secret visit to the doctor, during which she learned that she was eight weeks along.
If only that was as bad as things would get. But it wasn’t so simple. There was more to the story, more than she was willing to confess out loud yet.
Eight weeks ago, on the one night she went to a bar other than Diamond’s, she’d had a one-night-stand with a guy whose name she never learned. He had taken her to a nearby motel for the best sex she’d ever had, and now there was a baby in her.
She wondered grimly if the sex had been worth it. Now, she had to lie to Spike about when it happened, lie to him about who the father was, lie to him about everything. If he knew the truth, she had no doubt he’d expel her from the Mongols, and that was something she just couldn’t chance.
She picked up her phone and pressed a button, staring at the image on her lock screen. Her sister Hannah had been twenty years old when she was killed on the street during a mugging. The case had gone as cold as ice in a matter of months. The police knew nothing, except that witness accounts placed a man in a jacket emblazoned with the Mongol club crest at the scene. There were no other tips, and in the four years since Hannah’s death, not a single person had come forward with information.
At the time, local news reporter Kelsey Jones was only tangentially aware of the existence of the two motorcycle clubs in the city. But as she watched her sister’s case slowly disappear under piles of new crimes, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Citing her overwhelming grief as the cause, she took a leave of absence from her station and dove headfirst into the underworld of the Mongol club without looking back. Her job, her life, her ties with family and friends — she had given up everything in her search for the truth.
And now she was in deep trouble. The pregnancy forced her to admit that she was one hundred percent reliant on Spike and the Mongols, ironically. When Spike took her on as his old lady, she had left her cozy little apartment to live with him at the compound. It was a change that had thrilled her in the moment. She’d thought that being so close to the inner workings of the club would guarantee her success in one way or another. But it was slow going; she had yet to do anything besides drink, smoke, and party with a horde of intimidating and often lecherous men, and now she couldn’t even do that.
Spike himself was the worst of them. He spent most of his days riding around with a posse, exerting his dominance over everyone within the bounds of what he considered his territory. At night, he returned to the compound to get blind drunk at Diamond’s and stagger back to their rooms at three or four in the morning for unfulfilling sex. Spike’s stamina was me
diocre at his peak, and when he was drunk, Kelsey was in for five minutes of tepid penetration before he rolled off and started snoring. Once, she awoke the next morning to find that he had drunkenly pissed all over the bed.
As far as she was concerned, the big surprise was that it had taken her so long to have a one night stand in the first place. But Kelsey was quickly becoming of the opinion that if she’d seen one biker, she’d seen them all: grizzled men with beards and permanent scowls, often a beer gut hanging ponderously over their belts. Or, they were built like skinny, scraggly Spike, with beady eyes set deep into sharp, mean faces. Two months ago, she’d finally had enough, and she left the compound while Spike was out joyriding to grab a drink at another, hopefully quieter bar. That’s where she met the other man.
He was sitting on the stool beside her, his amber hair clean and combed. The golden stubble on his jaw seemed perfectly suited to his face, and when his eyes fell on her, he smiled warmly. Though Kelsey saw the tattoos spidering up from the backs of his hands into his shirt sleeves, though the beaten leather of his jacket looked awfully familiar, she found herself responding to him nonetheless.
He bought her a couple drinks and didn’t slip anything into them, something she’d caught a few Mongols trying to do. And despite the clarity of his sexual intentions, he made efforts to get to know her a bit before suggesting that she follow him back to a place he knew. By the time that suggestion was made, Kelsey was more than happy to go wherever he wanted. She realized as he took off her clothes that she’d been starved for male attention that didn’t leave her feeling like she needed an extra shower.
The sex was like nothing she’d ever experienced; it was like this sexy stranger already knew her body. He had taken her to places she never knew existed, and now that she was back with Spike, she feared she’d never get there again. If she’d known his name, she would have been screaming it — he was that good. And she knew he enjoyed himself, too. The experience was so mutually satisfying that for a moment afterward, she was afraid he might ask for her name and number.
But to her relief — and slight disappointment — he had simply given her another warm smile and put his clothes back on. She remembered his voice as he told her she could check out whenever she was ready, or even stay the night if she wanted. Then he leaned over the bed, kissed her one last time on the mouth, and walked out. The guilt had lasted less than a minute before Kelsey admitted that she had no regrets. Of course, she didn’t stay, and Spike was still nowhere to be seen when she got back to the compound. So, she thought the whole thing would be consequence free. What Spike didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Clearly, that wasn’t the case anymore. Kelsey squeezed her head and cursed herself for the thousandth time. All she could think about was how she’d just thrown away the best opportunity she had for finally solving Hannah’s murder. She was so close, and yet she couldn’t keep her pants on long enough to reach her goal. It was all so demoralizing, and she had no one but herself to blame. Spike? She could say it was his fault, sure. His fault for being so criminally bad in bed, for both neglecting and smothering her, for being a generally reprehensible human being. But she was the one who left Diamond’s and didn’t say no to that other guy. She was the one who couldn’t get a grip on her hormones.
Kelsey wanted to cry. She felt so selfish and horrible, completely undeserving of a sister as gentle and loving as Hannah had been. All of Hannah’s texts and voicemails were still saved on her phone, but since she found out about the pregnancy, Kelsey couldn’t bring herself to listen to Hannah’s voice. She wished so badly that she could call and ask for advice, but at the same time she knew that if she had Hannah, she wouldn’t be anywhere near this situation. No one asked her to risk herself to solve a hopeless case. But even in the depths of her despair, Kelsey couldn’t imagine turning back. It was unbearable to think that her little sister might lie in her grave forever without justice. No, she had to soldier on.
No matter what.
She was asleep when Spike came in that night, and for once, he didn’t wake her. He was just coming out of the shower as she awoke, and he actually smiled at her. “Mornin’, babe. You sleep well?” He leaned over to peck her on the forehead and she let him. He smelled strongly of his cloying cologne.
Kelsey rubbed her eyes. “Yeah,” she mumbled. She sat with the covers wrapped around her, watching him get dressed. “What are you doing today?” she asked. “Anything fun?” The small talk always sounded lame, but she made it anyway.
Spike laughed. He planted himself on the edge of the bed by her feet. “Everything I do is fun, dollface,” he said. “You don’t worry about it. Just sit in that bed and look pretty. That’s why I hired you.” He laughed again at his own bad joke and bent down to tie his boot laces. She shot a brief scowl at his back. It never took him very long to say something that rubbed her the wrong way, and he was in rare form this morning. She decided impulsively that she’d knock him down a peg. After all, she had ammunition this time.
“Can I tell you something?” she asked, adding a slightly sultry note into her voice to keep him interested. He sat up and glanced at her, a greasy smirk turning up the corner of his mouth. Kelsey fought the urge to roll her eyes and shove him off the bed. She bit her lip and his smile widened.
Then she dropped the bomb. “I’m pregnant.”
Spike’s face morphed from slimy expectation into genuine bewilderment. He glanced down at her stomach. “Pregnant?” A pause followed. “The kid’s mine, right?” There was an edge in his voice that Kelsey didn’t like at all, but she nodded and smiled, hoping to encourage a positive reaction. The last thing she needed was to deal with one of his notorious meltdowns. He scrutinized her face searchingly, as though trying to sift out lies with his naked eye. Then he made an unconvincing half smile with his mouth. “Great, babe. That’s great.”
Kelsey frowned. “You’re not happy.” She wasn’t really surprised. Spike Lawler was hardly the fathering type; of course he wasn’t happy. What did a drug-dealing, hard-thieving lowlife like him want with a child? It would change his life if he cared, and even if he didn’t, it was one more life to support.
He sighed. “Look, I —” He ran his hand over the shadow on his jaw. “It’s not a good time. It’s never gonna be a good time, if I’m honest with you. But you’re knocked up already, so who gives a shit, right? You’re still my old lady.” He pecked her on the forehead. “Now, be a good girl while I’m gone. Don’t get into trouble.”
The condescension in his voice was enough to annoy Kelsey for a decade. It was clear that he blamed her for getting pregnant, conveniently forgetting that he was the one who was always too drunk to wrap it up, that he had told her months ago to toss her pills. “Come on, baby,” he had said. “That stuff’s a scam. I don’t want you polluting your gorgeous body with all that trash.” She should have called it quits right then, but the desperate search for any sort of clue into Hannah’s murder made her stay. Back then, she was still a bit afraid of him, so she really had thrown out her birth control, so he wouldn’t find it and kick her to the curb.
Now, she forced herself to smile and nod again as he got up and went to the door. “See you tonight?” she asked, in what she hoped was an alluring tone.
He chuckled. “We’ll see.” The door closed behind him and the smile slid off her face and broke into pieces on the floor. She hated that he always had to keep her guessing; it was part of his bizarre power play. She’d learned very early on that Spike wasn’t satisfied unless he was in control, even if it was an issue that didn’t impact him. And now, in roughly seven months, she was going to give him a child.
Great job, Kels, she thought bitterly. You nailed it. Not that he knew she was only two months along. He hadn’t bothered to ask for details, as she knew he wouldn’t. In a way, the relief that her secret was still safe alleviated her stress somewhat, but not much. The question of the baby’s parentage haunted her. Should she try to get in touch with the mystery man? It wo
uld be madness, but part of her felt she owed it to him to at least try. Maybe he’d be a great father. Or maybe he’s just another prick. It didn’t matter. Spike would go absolutely ballistic if he knew she had cheated.
In her heart, she knew Spike might make her give up a baby that wasn’t his. She shoved the thought away and lay back against the pillows. The rest of her pregnancy stretched out before her like a fever dream — thirty-eight surreal weeks. Eventually, and maybe sooner rather than later, the morning sickness would start. She told herself that maybe it would be cathartic to actually be sick instead of just feeling sick all the time. She could use the threat of vomiting to keep Spike’s hands off her. Was it optimistic to think that Spike Lawler, who couldn’t respect any human being outside of himself, might respect his pregnant girlfriend? Probably. But Kelsey had made a habit of hanging on to the dregs of hope, and she wasn’t about to stop now.
The doctor had advised her to return in two weeks. On the day of her appointment, Kelsey made herself get out of bed at a decent hour, did her hair and makeup, and dragged herself reluctantly out of the compound. She put sunglasses on before she got outside so that anyone she passed in the corridors wouldn’t be able to see the dark rings around her eyes that still showed through her foundation. Sleep wasn’t coming easy at night, and she didn’t want any weird questions. Spike had already told her that people were starting to ask where she was, why she hadn’t been showing up at Diamond’s lately.
