by SL Schiefer
“You’re really asking a girl if she knows about them?”
“Good point. Well, the look you gave me reminded me of the side eyes one. It looked like they could have taken a picture of your face and used that as the guideline to make the little digital face.” I really don’t want to tell her this, I’m sure it’s only going to piss her off more, but I told her I would always be honest with her.
“Seriously? Are you kidding me? You’re comparing my face to a stupid texting face?”
“Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one who made the face.”
“What the fuck ever. What are we going to my house for?”
“We’re grabbing more of your stuff to bring to my house. Is that okay, Angel?”
I receive a grunt in response. Awesome.
***
Raven called Jazz to come out to my house to help her unpack all of her shit. She shoved as many bags as she could into the trunk and backseat of my car. I’m not sure I thought this through, but I figure if I can get her to slowly move all of her stuff over here, it will be easier to get her to move in.
Especially because I don’t plan on letting her go back to her apartment for much.
After I left Raven at home with Jazz, Creep hopped a ride with me to the clubhouse. We left Bug on babysitting duty; he was thrilled.
I’m sitting on a chair in the main room, talking to Creep about upcoming shipments, when my phone chirps with a text.
Angel: I’m sorry. I know I was a bitch.
Me: You can make it up to me later.
She then responds with a side eyes face, which has me grinning like a damn fool at my phone.
“Dude, you being in love looks good on you,” Creep says, interrupting my thoughts.
“You know, I could say the same for you. How is Jazz? I only see her for a little bit a day. She’s always with you now.”
“She’s fine. Worried about Raven with you. She’s scared about me, I can tell. She hasn’t told me or anything but I can sense it.” I can tell this bothers him.
“Give it time. Remember what she’s gone through in a short amount of time.”
“I know, it just fucking sucks.”
“Believe me, I know just what you’re going through. Maybe I can have Raven talk to her for you.”
I scrunch my face up in disgust as soon as I say that. “You know what? No, I’m not going to talk to Raven. I’m going to let you take care of your own shit. I’m not going back to this high school bullshit.”
“Good idea. Alright, man, I’ve got some shit I’ve got to take care of. Find me before you leave so I can hitch a ride back to your house with you.”
“Alright.” I watch him walk away, wondering just what the fuck we’re going to do with two girls who definitely don’t belong in club life, but damned if either of us is letting them go.
“Hey, Mace, you have a minute?” Ginger asks over my shoulder.
“Yup. What’s up?” Ginger has never really talked to me one on one before, so I’m kind of confused as to what brought her over to me now.
“Honey, how are you doing? I was here the night you came and fought with your dad.” She looks at me with a motherly expression on her face.
“I’m fine. I wish Pops would crawl back into the hole he disappeared to for the past couple years. I don’t know why he had to come back.”
“Maybe he just missed you and the club,” she says tenderly.
“Or maybe he wanted free booze and pussy,” I growl. “He’s never really cared about me. Even bringing me up in this life, he could have still showed me what a father should actually be like. Instead, I got this cold piece of shit who only shows up when he needs something.”
Ginger’s face falls. I hope she wasn’t thinking she was going to help repair my relationship with my dad in one sitting.
She stands up from the couch and says, “If you need anything, let me know. I know I’m not your mom, but I still care for you like one.” She walks away, leaving me stunned. I never once thought about her like a mom, but she’s always mothered every one of us here.
I’m content at staying here on the couch, but came here hoping Pops was around so I could ask him to leave.
All he ever does it stir shit up. Even before stepping down as President, he did it. I saw it. Hell, everyone saw it. He was a mess and just continued spiraling down.
He isn’t here at the club. Anywhere. Surprise, surprise.
Pushing myself off the couch, I go in search of Creep. Walking through the house, I go from room to room with no luck in finding my Vice President.
I get greetings in the form of nods and waves from everyone I see. We still have most of the families here, which means there are people everywhere, but most of the guys have gone back to their normal routines.
Not finding Creep, I head outside to check around. Walking around one side of the house to the back yard, I don’t see anyone, but when I get to the other side, I find Creep sitting there.
“What the hell you doing out here by yourself? I’m ready to go, are you?”
“Yeah, we can go. I didn’t get anything done. I went up to my room to clean it up some. And then I got to thinking about why I never bothered to care about my room before now. Do I really want this? Do I want to be tied to one girl? I don’t have it in me to cheat, so once I’m with her, that’s it.”
“You’ll just have to figure that out yourself, man. Let’s head back to the house.” I clap him on the back and shove him in the direction of my car.
Neither of us speak on the drive back to my house. My phone chirps, informing me of another text. Pulling up to a stop light, I pull the phone from my pocket and open the message.
It’s a video from an unknown number.
The small, grainy image is making it hard to figure out what’s on it. I tap the play button, and it’s like all my worst nightmares coming true all over again.
I had to watch Trina get shot on video. Now, they send me another video of someone getting shot. At first glance, it could have been anyone, but I rewind the video to play it again. Putting the screen as close to my face as possible, I’m trying to make out who the person is on this fucking screen.
There is talking in the background of the video, but it’s not like I need to figure out who sent this. The person in focus on the screen is fighting against the restraints holding them.
When gunshots ring out through the speakers, I start hearing Creep asking me what’s going on. I ignore him, needing to find out who the person is on the screen. Needing to make sure it’s not my Angel.
I would unleash a wrath unlike anything Jake has ever seen before if that were my Angel on the screen.
The person holding the phone walks closer to the body, pointing the lens of the camera right toward the face of the victim. Everything fades out around me. The car, Creep, the stop light, the radio—I don’t notice any of it.
What has my complete attention is the guy on the screen.
Finally, Jake has succeeded in his eye for an eye.
Pops is dead.
Chapter Thirty-Seven – Raven
“ALRIGHT, WHAT’S UP?” Jazz asks as she barges in to the room and plops down next to me on the bed.
As soon as Gunner left, I came back in here to lie down. I don’t feel sick anymore, but my body is just drained. I’m exhausted.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I mumble into my pillow, refusing to open my eyes.
“You’ve been like this for days.”
“It’s called the flu. You act like it’s been forever, but it’s been what, two days?”
“When was your last period, Rave?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not worried. I’m on the pill, remember?”
“Which isn’t always effective. You feel good, then you get sick. You feel good, then you get sick. For two days.”
“Yeah…” I drag out as I open my eyes to look at her.
“You’re only getting sick when you think about, smell, or try to eat
food,” she says, nodding her head, her eyes growing a little wider.
When I just stare blankly back at her, trying to figure out if what she’s implying could possibly be true, she rolls her eyes at me. “Do I have to spell this out for you, Raven?”
“N-no,” I stutter. Is she right? No. There’s no possible way.
“When was your last period?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“How do you not know? You should be keeping track of that shit.”
“It couldn’t have been that long ago, Jazz. I just stocked up on tampons because I was going to get it soon.”
“And? Did you ever get it?”
Fuck. Did I? Shit, how can I not remember?
“Raven. I know you hadn’t had to really think about this shit before, but now that you’re finally having sex again, you need to start paying closer attention.”
“Ugh. Yes, Mom.” I slowly stand up, reaching my hand above my head and bending slightly backwards, every muscle stretching, groaning in protest from barely moving for the past few days. I throw on some clothes and go into the bathroom to run a brush through my hair and clean my teeth. When I emerge, Jazz is standing by the door, waiting for me.
“Ready?” She lifts a brow.
I take a big breath before I nod my head at her. It’s going to be negative. It’s going to be negative.
When we get downstairs, we find Bug in the kitchen, standing next to the island, staring down at his phone, and shaking his head.
“Everything okay?” Jazz asks him as we enter.
His head whips over to us and he just stares for a few beats before he clears his throat and nods. “Yeah.”
“Well, that was convincing.” Jazz rolls her eyes. “I need tampons.”
“Uh, okay. Doesn’t she have any you can use?”
“Different brands, can’t do it.”
“Really? How about you use them anyway and we’ll get some later?”
“You try shoving something up your vagina for a week straight while you feel like a dying animal. Then you can tell me that again.”
“You don’t have to come,” I add. “It’ll only take us a few minutes.”
“Hell no! You know Mace. He’ll have me by the balls if I let you ladies go anywhere without me.”
“Fine. Then let’s go,” I say as I turn my back on him, walking out to the car.
Deciding to sit in the back, I leave Jazz to keep up the small talk. I rest my head against the head rest, closing my eyes and trying to calm my nerves. You just had the flu. It’s only the flu.
“So, Bug,” Jazz sings, “how come you don’t have an ol’ lady?”
“Why? You interested?”
Jazz’s laugh fills the car. “No, not really. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Why do they call you Bug?”
“Just a nickname.”
His phone rings and a one sided conversation greets us.
“On my way to the store for tampons,” he groans. “No. Fuck that. Why? It’ll only be a minute. Fuck. Fine. Yeah, I got it.” I open my eyes and watch him slam his phone shut, throwing it up on to the dash while he grumbles under his breath.
“Was that Mace?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Where is he?”
“Taking care of club business. He said he’ll be home late.”
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
“Uh…yeah,” he nods.
“That was convincing,” I mock. Sitting up straight, I ask, “What’s going on?”
“I can’t. Club business.”
“That line is getting old,” I sigh, sinking back into my seat. He’s been gone a while. No texts or calls. I wonder what’s going on. I decide to text Mace to see if he’ll tell me anything. Probably not. Club business and all, I mock in my head.
ME: Everything okay? You’ve been gone a while.
Within seconds, my phone is vibrating with a response.
GUNNER: Not really. But it will be.
ME: When will you be home?
GUNNER: It’ll probably be a late night.
ME: Okay.
GUNNER: So who got it? You or Jazz?
Come again? What the hell is he talking about?
ME: What are you going on about, crazy man?
GUNNER: Crazy? You haven’t seen anything yet, Angel ;)
GUNNER: Who’s on the rag? Bug said you all are on a mission for tampons. Didn’t we just stock you?
Fuck. He remembers. I don’t know if I should find that weird or sweet.
ME: I used them.
GUNNER: Are you sure?
ME: Did you really just ask me that?
GUNNER: So that’s been what’s wrong the past two days?
ME: Jazz got it. Why does this even matter?
GUNNER: Because we haven’t had sex once when you’re on your rag. And we haven’t taken any breaks. Was hoping maybe that’s what’s been wrong.
Shitballs. My heart sinks each time my mind replays his last text. “Was hoping maybe that’s what’s been wrong.” So either I’m overreacting or he already considered this possibility and is hoping I just got my rag. I don’t know why that makes me feel like crying. It’s not like I want to be knocked up.
Bug pulls into a parking stall close to the doors and comes around to open our doors. When he follows hot on our tails, I can’t help but be nervous. I wrap my arm through Jazz’s and whisper into her ear. “If he doesn’t give us some fucking room, he’s going to know.”
“Relax. You get tampons and I’ll get the test.”
“I love you,” I sigh in relief.
“I know,” she grins.
I look for a box of her normal brand while she goes to the end of the aisle and reads the front of the pregnancy test boxes. Bug is standing midway between us both, rocking back on his heels, scratching his head. Poor guy. I smile as I walk past him to join Jazz.
“I thought you got your period?” Bug asks Jazz.
“Well, not yet, but I should be,” she shrugs.
“So why the test?” he whispers like he’s scared someone may think it’s due to him.
“Because if I don’t get it, then I’m going to need one of these,” she smiles, waving the test in front of his face.
“So why not just come back if you need it?”
“Are you afraid someone’s going to think you knocked me up, Bug?”
“Well… I don’t know. Let’s go.” He shakes his head as he leads us to the checkout.
***
The ride home was unbearable. It felt like a damn eternity for the usual fifteen minute adventure. I’ve been pacing back and forth with Jazz in the bedroom for the past… two minutes and twenty seconds.
“I can’t be pregnant, Jazz. I’m on the pill!”
“We’ve discussed this already.”
“Club life isn’t a place for a baby.”
“This place is,” she says gently.
“What about everything with Jake?” I stop pacing in front of her, my eyes searching for answers.
“The beef won’t last forever, Rave. Eventually, that shit will come to an end.”
“It’s dangerous. And I don’t want any drugs, or strippers, or club sluts around my kid,” I spit quickly. My heart begins to race. “Oh my God, Jazz,” I choke.
“Raven.” She says my name low and firm, her hands framing my face as she stares straight into my eyes. “It won’t be that bad. You guys love each other. You can compromise through this. You can work it out.”
“Love doesn’t always win, Jazz,” I remind her. Shit, if it did, my Mom would’ve chosen Dad and me over her daily dose of heroin and cocaine.
“Not always, no,” she agrees. “But with the right people it does. Besides, I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.”
I just don’t know if we’re ready for this. With so much going on, I don’t think this added pressure is needed. And from the last text Gunner sent, I don’t think he wants it. Do I? What if it does
n’t work out with Gunner and me? Then what happens? What if Jake wins this war?
Don’t jump the gun, Raven.
Taking a deep breath, I march into the bathroom to find out my fate. Please be negative. Please be negative.
Chapter Thirty-Eight – Mace
THIS IS THE FIRST TIME we’ve called in other chapters of our club. We try to just leave each other alone and stay out of each other’s way, but when something like this goes down, everyone gets called in no matter what they have going on.
And they all come straight here, dropping whatever it is they were doing.
“So, we have guns and all the ammo we’ll need. Did anyone else bring anything?” I ask the whole room, trying to figure out what the other two clubs brought.
The President of the Columbus club, Freak, stands up and says, “We left so suddenly that we didn’t really have a lot of time to grab much of anything. So if you have extra we can all use, that would be great.”
I nod my head at him. “Sure thing. We have plenty. We haven’t had anyone come pick up their order in the past week. Everyone is probably trying to lay low with this shit with Jake going on.”
“Thank you, Mace. If it’s alright with you, we’re going to catch a couple hours of sleep so we’re ready to go later.”
“Help yourself to the club rooms, they’re upstairs. There is a fully kitchen stocked close to the bar, so if you want something to eat before you crash, ask Ginger to show you. She’s the only redhead in the club.”
“Thanks, brother. I want to say I’m truly sorry for your pops. I know you two didn’t get along, but losing a parent is never easy. And don’t work yourself up too much about tonight. We’ll all get in, get it over with, and get the fuck out.”
Nodding my head in a silent form of thanks, the fifteen brothers in the Columbus club get up and walk out of the room. Now I need to see what the Madison club has to say.
I look at Tiny and raise an eyebrow, hoping he’ll fill in the blanks without me having to ask. “We brought our entire stock. We have a couple Tahoe’s with toolboxes in the back hatch. Except we never keep tools in there.”
“Good deal. Same thing goes for you. Y’all can sleep or help yourself to food. Help yourself to anything in our club while you’re here.”
