“I think that’s enough said. That could have been his reason for telling you it was club business.” He turns so he’s now facing me. “He might have used the phone to call someone who calmed him down that night. He came back after the call, didn’t he? Made it up to you? But maybe in his mind it had festered… Maybe he went to the person he’d called to talk it through. Who knows? But I agree, he had every intention of returning, but didn’t, or, he couldn’t.”
“We’re no further forward, are we?” I wipe an errant tear from my eye.
He notices. “Oh darlin’. Don’t upset yourself.”
I wave him off, not wanting my sorrow to cause this conversation to stop.
He must realise I’m strong enough to continue. “There’s just that nagging doubt of why he felt the need to hide shit.”
I rest my head in my hands, trying to work it through. “Skull loved the club, loved the life. I’ve no doubt of that. Whatever you did to him, he’d gotten over it, I’m certain. If he felt the need for secrecy, maybe it’s something in his past?”
“If he went to stay with a friend, he could have called them from his club phone.” Pyro seems like a dog with a bone. “Why didn’t he?”
“Perhaps he, or she,” I grimace, “is someone the club wouldn’t approve of.” Once again wheels turn in my head. “Skull goes to them injured after he was beaten up for something he hadn’t done. If they’re a good friend, they might not have liked him going back to the club. Maybe he wants to keep that side of his life completely separate.”
“Maybe, could be, might.” Pyro’s head moves side to side, and his jaw tightens. “Too many questions, not enough answers.”
What he means is, we’re no closer to finding my man.
“I want to know, Pyro,” my voice breaks, “if he’s dead, I want to know.”
“Oh sweetheart.” He sees another tear fall and comes over, his strong arms wrapping around me. “Hang on to the hope he’s still breathing. You may think you could accept the worst, but if it comes, it will be bad. While we don’t know, you can be optimistic, which you need to be right now. Don’t give up, not yet. You owe it to you and the baby.”
Another tightening of his arms, then he pulls back. “I’ve got to go see Prez. You going to be okay, or do you want me to find Violet and send her to you?”
My emotions are swinging from one extreme to the other. Probably hormones have something to do with it, but also the situation I’m in. One moment I’m angry at Skull for leaving me, the next grieving his absence. Talking with Pyro has helped, but I feel totally wrung out now.
“I don’t want to keep talking about it. I’ll be fine on my own. If I need company, I’m a big girl.” My mouth twists at my unintended double meaning. “I can go find it.” That’s one thing about lockdown, there’s usually someone around.
Leaning forward, he places a chaste kiss to my forehead, then stands and leaves.
I stare at the door after he closes it. They think there’s a possibility Skull might be some kind of traitor, but I know he’d never betray them. That is not the lover I allowed into my bed, and certainly not the man who’s captured my heart, or the one who’s currently breaking it.
Thursday passes like any other day. I pull myself together, am escorted today by the prospect, Beaver, to work, then, after a tedious day conducting land searches, I’m followed by a different bike on the return journey.
It might be psychological, but already pregnancy seems to be making me tired, and I yawn my way through the dinner Jeannie has prepared.
“It gets you like that,” Violet observes. “Tired all the time.”
“Even this early?”
“One of the earliest symptoms, yes.”
“Second trimester is normally better,” Mo puts in. “You get a second wind. I think it’s nature’s way of giving you energy to get your nest ready.”
“And in the third, you’re so big you can’t do anything,” Vi laughs. “Oh, I’ve spoken to Lizard. He’s happy if I take the morning off for your appointment.”
I, too, have already booked time off work, but she really doesn’t have to. “You don’t need to come with me, Violet.”
Her look tells me she’ll have no argument on this. If I’m honest, I’ll appreciate the company. Let’s face it, I’ve not been pregnant before, and I don’t know how any of this works. Having her with me when I have my first check-up with the doctor could be good.
“Hey, I found this. You might like to read it. I found it was good and helped me know what to do and what to expect.”
This turns out to be a large illustrated book about pregnancy and childbirth. My eyes light up. I’d certainly like to read it. When she passes it over, I start to flick through the pages. Stopping at one, my eyes open in horror.
“Oh, God, no.”
Jeannie, who’s come up behind me, leans over, takes a look, and snorts. “Your poor pussy,” she comments.
“I do not stretch that way.” I complain.
“You will,” both Vi and Mo speak at the same time. They’re laughing. I glare. They’ve both experienced birth and know what to expect. I’ve got this to look forward to in less than eight months.
“How the hell did you do this three times, Mo?”
“It’s easier with the second,” she replies, giving her daughter-in-law a pointed look.
“What?” says Vi, innocently.
“Anything you want to tell me?”
“Mo, stop. You know we want to wait until Theo’s a little bit older. I promise, when I am, you’ll be the first to know.”
Demon’s mother pouts, then pulls her chair in a bit closer to mine. “Then I’ll just have to be a proxy grandmother to Mel’s for now.”
I give her a genuine smile. That actually sounds nice.
But it reminds me I haven’t told my parents. How can I? How do I explain I might be a single mother? I don’t think they’ll be judgmental, it’s just, I still haven’t found the right words to form an explanation, when I don’t know what’s going on myself. I won’t be able to put it off forever, soon I’ll have to admit Skull is gone.
Each day I hope for news, but it never comes. Days pass slowly, one after the other, each twenty-four-hour period the same as the last. I go to work and try to concentrate on doing my job. Because of my reddened eyes, my forlorn expression of hope when the phone rings, I’ve had to tell co-workers that Skull’s disappeared, but not that I’m having his baby. Unfortunately, they treat him being missing as an intriguing mystery, and I have to put up with a daily inquisition. Is there news? No. Any new ideas why? Again, no. They offer up theories and then look at me with that sad look in their eyes. It was Carter who dared to say the words, Bikes are dangerous, he probably had an accident.
It’s not much better at the weekend when I’m in the clubhouse. If people talk about Skull I get upset, if they don’t, I want to cry. Life goes on and they’re moving onto other things now, Skull being gone is yesterday’s topic.
Time also rushes by all too fast. Each day gone is another that he’s been missing, and they are starting to mount up. Even I know as the period of time lengthens, it’s hardly a good sign. If he was able to return or wanted to, he’d have come back by now.
The day of my appointment with the OB/GYN comes around. When I descend the staircase, I don’t just find Violet waiting for me, but Pyro as well.
When I cock my eyebrow, he nods to Vi, then takes me to one side.
“Mel, if Skull was here, he’d be going with you. But he can’t be, so I’m coming in his place.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I owe it to him as my brother.”
“I’ve got Vi…”
“Let me go with you, instead. Mel. Let me give you the support Skull would have given.”
But he’s not Skull.
Pyro’s been there for me since Skull went missing.
I might not have my man with me, but Pyro seems hellbent on making sure I won’t be going through this alone.
“If you’re not comfortable with the arrangement, Mel, we can stick to the original plan,” Vi offers, anxiously.
I won’t have Skull, but Pyro seems intent on being his proxy. While I’m sure the doctor won’t be judgmental, there’s something comforting about walking in with a man.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Thank you, Pyro.”
Vi leans over to the sofa and picks up a cushion, asking casually, “Did this make a difference Ro?”
Pyro rubs his neck. “Yeah, it did. Thanks Vi.”
“Make a difference to what?” I look from one to the other.
“Sleeping on the sofa,” Vi informs me.
My eyes crease. “You’re sleeping on a sofa? Why?”
Pyro’s eyes close briefly, then reopen. “Because you’re in my room.”
I had no idea. “Why aren’t you in another one?”
“We’re short of space, Mel. No others were available.”
Vi delivers her parting shot, then walks off carrying the cushion, presumably to put it away until tonight, while I’m still trying to process the fact Pyro’s been sleeping uncomfortably while I’ve taken his bed.
“No, Mel. Before you even think it, I’m not going to let you swap places. I’m quite comfortable now I’ve got myself sorted. You’re a pregnant woman and need a bed.”
I really don’t know what to say.
I’m quiet on the short journey to the doctor’s, realising how much the man beside me is doing for my comfort and never complaining. Well, not to me. Vi had known he was suffering from a stiff neck.
As if he knows I’m still worrying, after he parks the car, his hand touches my chin and turns my head. “Darlin’, I used to be in the Army. I’ve had far worse places to lay my head. Believe me, a soft couch and a pillow is a luxury compared to some of the places I’ve slept. There’s nothing you can say which will change the situation.”
“Thank you?” I offer, as a question. The words seeming inadequate as they leave my mouth.
“That’ll do,” he responds, simply. Then, “Ready to do this?”
I nod. “Yes.”
Chapter Seventeen
Pyro
I hadn’t intended to accompany Mel to the OB/GYN today. In my head, it was women’s shit, and Violet seemed the obvious choice as her companion. It hadn’t been until I’d overheard the women talking after Mel had had an early night and gone to bed the previous evening and heard shit which had changed my mind.
“Poor girl,” Mo had said. “Skull should be here with her. Hell was amazing with me. He came to every appointment right from the start.”
“I know what she’s going through,” said Violet. “I had to go by myself. I felt so alone, even though Vicky was with me. Happy expectant couples all around me, and there I was, without a man.”
“Pal would want to be with me.” Jay laughed. “I wouldn’t be able to keep him away.”
I’d cursed Skull in my head. What the fuck is the man doing leaving her to cope all alone? Okay, so he doesn’t know she’s pregnant, but she could be going through anything as far as he knows. Not the least worrying and missing him. Another sign, surely, that the man has to be dead. Why else would he stay away from his woman, let alone his club?
Skull should be there to support her at her appointments, to share every step of the pregnancy with her. If he can’t be, then I’ll have to step up instead.
Whoa. Hold on there. Why me?
I have no answer for my own question, yet it already seems I’m already invested in Mel having a baby. It was me who was there and who read the positive sign on that pregnancy test. Seems by doing so, I’ve become unwittingly involved. She might not be having my baby, but I’ll give her the support she needs until her man returns. Though that seems to be increasingly unlikely.
I wish she hadn’t learned I’d not only given up my bed for her, but that I’d had no place other than the clubroom to sleep instead. I've gotten used to the couch, and that pillow properly positioned does indeed help my neck.
Though Skull will undoubtedly be with us today—he’s the baby’s father after all and she won’t be able to forget—I didn’t want to raise his spectre in a negative way. Therefore, I’d refrained from telling her there will probably be more space in the clubhouse after church tonight. As nothing has happened, lockdown is bound to be lifted. Mel’s not stupid, she’ll realise two options will have been taken off the table. The first being that Skull himself is gunning for the club, which would be good in her eyes, but the other, that an enemy is holding him captive. No longer considering that as a viable possibility is basically admitting he is dead.
I hadn’t thought it through, I realise, as we sit in the waiting room along with an assortment of women in various stages of pregnancy, many with their partners beside them. It’s not being here that bothers me, but the form I’m asked to fill in. They think I’m the father and want my medical history. I put it aside, raging again that there are things we don’t know. Has Skull got any genetic issues that might have a bearing on the baby’s health? There’s no way of knowing.
Mel’s biting the tip of the pen as she completes her own information.
Discreetly, while waiting, I study the room’s other occupants. Noting one man looks excited, another bored, and the last like they’d rather be elsewhere. The women, though… There’s one who seems likely to drop any day now, and I wonder if Mel will have the same glow on her face when she gets to that point. Fuck, but she’ll look beautiful when the baby starts growing, I fucking know she will. For a moment I wish her baby was mine, and like the proud excited father, I could take personal pleasure in today. But it’s not. I’m not even her partner. I’m lucky. A woman and baby would tie me down.
When our time comes, we’re shown into a room where we wait for the doctor.
It’s not long before she enters. “Right, now, Melissa, isn’t it?” When Mel nods, the doctor looks at me and frowns. “You didn’t fill in your health information.”
“I’m not the father,” I say fast. “He’s unable to be here, so I’ve come in his place.”
“You okay with that, Melissa?” The doctor’s eyebrow is arched.
“Yes,” Mel says positively, with a quick grateful glance my way.
“You think you’re about six weeks?”
When Mel replies in the affirmative, the doctor commences a complete check-up, sending me out of the room while she performs certain examinations, but I’m there when her blood pressure is taken and a sample of blood. Mel squeezes my hand tightly, and I get the impression she doesn’t like needles.
Mel goes through her health, mentioning her concern about her weight and whether it would affect her carrying a healthy baby. The doctor agrees she’s got a high BMI score—whatever that fucking is, and that she should watch what she eats. Mel looks beautiful to me. Rounded and shapely, in my eyes exactly how a woman should look. I glare at the doctor.
She then talks to us both about what to expect in pregnancy. I learn her tits are already sore and will increase in size. Oh baby, I could ease that pain with my hands and lips. Then mentally slap myself around the head before I get a hard dick in a very inappropriate place.
The doc thinks it’s too early for a sonogram, and as Mel’s certain of the timing of her last period estimates a delivery date. As she does Mel turns to glance at me, and I can see a mixture of fear and excitement on her face. Being given a date has just made it real for her.
“When can we see it? And when can we learn whether it’s a boy or a girl?” It’s me that asks that question.
Mel raises her eyebrow, but she grins. I shrug. Can’t help but get involved when I’m sitting here with her. Some of her excitement must be contagious.
The doc answers me, “After sixteen weeks we should be able to tell. We can schedule that in. If there are any problems, we might have a look sooner. We’ll schedule your next appointment for a month’s time. If anything comes back from your blood work that we need to discuss, then I’ll
be in touch. Oh, and if you can get the health information from the father, that will be useful.”
My face tightens as the excitement on Mel’s face disappears.
She’s still down as we walk back across the parking lot.
“I wish Skull was here. I’m so glad you were, Pyro, but there’s so much I don’t know about him. I don’t know whether there’s anything in his medical history I should know about. What if there is, and it harms the baby?”
I know I’m starting to do this more often, but it just seems natural to pull her into my arms and to cradle her head against my chest. “Don’t worry about things that might not exist. Just focus on doing the best that you can.”
“I hate this,” she sobs. “I should be happy I’m having a baby. I am, but I want Skull to be with me.”
“I know.” It’s all that I can offer.
Suddenly she cries out, “He’s dead, isn’t he, Pyro? I’m never going to see him again.”
What do I do? Do I hold out false hope? Do I tell her what my thoughts really are? Can I lie? No, I can’t. “Mel, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, but I think he is. There’s no other explanation why he wouldn’t have come back to you. I don’t know where it could have happened, I don’t know how, who—or even if anyone else was involved—but I’m certain he’d have come back if he could.”
People come and go around us, but I ignore the looks. Let them think what they like. If Mel needs to cry out her anguish in a hospital parking lot, she’s allowed to.
Eventually her tears dry. On the drive back to the compound the odd sob sounds, but she’s slowly pulling herself together. I’m not sure if I handled the situation rightly or wrongly, but Mel’s distress was caused by her beginning to accept she’ll never again see her man. In my view, to allow her to keep hoping, to give her false platitudes after she’d come to that realisation herself, didn’t sit well with me.
Skull’s gone. Deep down in my bones, I know it.
Life has to go on. Particularly that special bundle of cells in her stomach on which Mel’s currently resting her hands.
Devil's Dilemma: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #4 Page 14
