Heaven Hill Series - Complete Series

by Laramie Briscoe

  It was a blow—Dalton not returning the text breaking the news he was going to be a father. A big blow. One she hadn’t expected, even though things between them had been strained for the past few months. Never had she imagined he’d let that tidbit of information go by without a word, but he had. It had taken him days to answer her back, and when he had, it had been with the words “we were always so careful.” She’d wanted to text back “except that one time we weren’t, asshole.” But she hadn’t. Instead she’d tucked her phone in her back pocket and went on about her day. It was a day she’d never forget; she spent it washing her car and running errands. Doing anything she could so as not to be home alone and inside her head.

  She couldn’t put her finger on it, couldn’t figure out what had changed. She and Dalton had never been the epitome of what most would call a “grand love”. They kept the PDA to themselves and preferred not to be too in-your-face when they were together. That wasn’t to say they didn’t have an active love life and they didn’t express feelings. They did, but they were private about it. The privacy made it more erotic, the fact their love was theirs and theirs alone. No one knew what he said to her behind closed doors, how he acted, and the things he did to her. Mandy loved that, loved that she was the only person to know that side of Dalton. Abruptly, almost like a switch had been flipped, things had changed.

  When had everything gone to shit? For a long time she’d convinced herself that if she could pinpoint the moment, it would fix everything. When had they stopped behaving like two people who loved each other and started behaving like fuck buddies? In essence that’s what they were, and one dark night it had gotten the better of them. It wasn’t like they could take back what they’d done. She should have been more responsible—she knew that—protected sex had been drilled into her since she’d been old enough to have kids. Her mom and dad didn’t want her to be a single mom, didn’t want Drew getting Charity pregnant in high school. Mandy and Drew were supposed to know better. But, she argued with herself, she and Dalton had been together for years; she’d thought they would be together for the rest of their lives. They’d never spoken about it, but it was a decent assumption to make considering the relationship they’d actively been in for years.

  Beside her, her phone vibrated, and her heart leaped into her throat with hope that it was Dalton. Disappointment came crashing down when she realized it was from her brother. She’d called in sick with the excuse of stomach flu, anything that would explain the random puking that seemed to greet her out of nowhere. It’d been the third time in a month and a half that she’d had the stomach flu. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep using that excuse, but right now she was just trying to get through the next second, the next hour, the day. She’d concentrate on weeks and months when she could put one foot in front of the other and live.

  Heard about your stomach flu. Dalton called in sick here. Talked to Charity today and she said you sound awful. You need anything, you let me know. Sprite and some crackers won’t take me long to run out to you, and Dad says if you start feeling worse, take your ass to the ER. This is happening too much here lately. Don’t let yourself get dehydrated. Love ya, Sis.

  The text message brought another round of tears to her eyes. Hormonal didn’t even begin to describe how she felt at least three times a day. A part of her wondered if Dalton really was sick. Another part wondered if he was hiding like a coward, not ready to face her family. Hell, his family, too. She sniffed, running a tissue under her nose as she tried desperately to get her emotions under control.

  On instinct, she went to Dalton’s contact on her phone, ready to text him, and make sure he was okay. What if he really was sick? There was no one there to take care of him, had never been anyone to take care of him really, except her. At the same time, she was pissed at herself. Why should she care about him when he obviously didn’t care about her? It was hard to turn off the emotions, and it was so easy to turn them back on. It was time though, time to worry about herself. She couldn’t keep worrying about him, because now she had someone else to worry about. She was needed, and the person who needed her now couldn’t defend itself. She was the only one this tiny person inside of her could count on.

  She refused to let this child down. Her life hadn’t always been perfect, and Denise had given them the best life she could until she’d met Liam. What resulted in the following years had ended up being the most amazing life. She hadn’t wanted for anything—either material or emotional. What financially her mom had lacked in their early years, they’d all gained with the inclusion of Liam Walker in their lives, and in turn the Heaven Hill MC. But this time she couldn’t run to them and beg for help—this was her situation she had to figure out the answers to. No one could fix this for her; it was up to her to make the changes that would help her make the best decisions for her tiny family. In order to do that, she had to get organized; she had to figure out what she faced.

  Taking a deep breath, she sat down on her couch, pulled her TV tray to her stomach, grabbed a pen and notebook, and began writing down lists. If there was anything she was good at, it was organization and making plans. She just hadn’t ever thought those plans would include being a single mom. But fuck it; her mom had done it for years, so could she.

  “You got this. Women have been doing this since the dawn of ages, and you have a lot of help if you just tell them what the hell’s going on. You’re a strong woman,” she gave herself a pep talk before leaning over and starting to write.

  It soothed her, making lists. With every bullet point, she firmly knocked Dalton further out of her life. But even she knew it was only until he came crawling back. He would. But she wasn’t sure what she would say when that day came.

  Chapter Two

  Light poured into the small bedroom of the trailer, illuminating the space just enough for Dalton to see the pattern of the comforter that covered the bed. He shifted, trying to get comfortable, but he couldn’t. He missed Mandy, missed her softness next to him, and missed the tiny noises she made in her sleep.

  He didn’t stay here often anymore, but he needed some place to think and lick his wounds. His eyes focused on the juncture where the curtain almost met the roughly carpeted floor. The light played on the threadbare rug as the curtain moved back and forth, the breeze from the air conditioner kicking on and off, pushing it this way and that. He’d been staring at it for hours, searching for answers to questions he never thought he’d have to find. In those hours, he still had no answers. Turning over, he heard the metal of his cut clicking against the metal of his belt. He hadn’t even gotten undressed. What was the point when he didn’t really have a home? Even at almost thirty years of age, he was a nomad. Belonging somewhere long enough to love it, but never being able to immerse himself deep enough so that he felt a part of the family.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Those words had thrown him for a loop, one he was still trying to recover from. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he ever would. His idea of what his purpose in life was, was so ingrained in his head—don’t bring another person into the circle of bullshit that surrounded him and his family. Break the cycle. Those were the words he’d repeated his whole life. Break the fucking cycle. Sacrifice his chance at having offspring for the greater good. It would be worth it in the end because no one would have to live through a childhood like he and Deacon had.

  He and Mandy had always been so careful. Even as fumbling teenagers not sure how to get each other off. They’d never had a pregnancy scare, much less a positive test.

  From the time he was old enough to know what one was, he’d known he wouldn’t make a good father—he’d had no role model. No one, save his uncle, to tell him right from wrong, to show him how to treat a woman, until he’d met Liam Walker, president of the Heaven Hill MC.

  Which was now why, weeks after the bombshell of the pregnancy had been dropped, he still couldn’t believe it was true. He and Mandy were the talk of the clubhouse and he knew it because Drew had to
ld him so, trying to dig out of him what was going on. Contrary to popular belief of the last few months, Amanda Walker was the only woman he’d ever been with, the only woman he’d ever loved, and the only person he’d ever truly let into his heart. Pulling away from her had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do, but it had been a necessity.

  When he’d started thinking about buying the land, he’d known he was in deep shit. There was no way he’d buy the land and then not want to build a house. Once a house was built, he knew he’d want Mandy with him all the time. He’d started to let himself believe that maybe he did deserve it. He could have a family. He could have a child, a wife, and break the cycle. He could have it all. But then he’d run across an old photo album, and the sadness permeating from the pictures of him and his brother had gutted him. He couldn’t do that to a child, he couldn’t do that to Mandy. He wasn’t equipped to make people happy for the long haul. It just wasn’t him. So he’d continued to pull away.

  The pulling away, it’d killed him. He’d missed her so much that one night he’d given into his needs, his wants, his desires. And what happened? The one thing he’d always tried to prevent. His biggest fear in life.

  Dalton Barnett was going to be a father. He prayed for the kid, because he knew without a doubt he wouldn’t be around when his son or daughter made an appearance. Whether he liked it or not, he’d probably be dead, and the world would be better off for it. He wouldn’t have to wonder where he fit in, wouldn’t have to figure out why he couldn’t seem to put down roots, and he would never have to see Mandy’s disappointed face again.

  He rolled back over. But why did it feel so empty? Why did it hurt so goddamn much?

  Drew Walker pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and shot off a text to his best friend. It’d been a few days since they’d spoken, and he was worried. Things weren’t going well for Dalton and Mandy the last he’d heard. He tried as best he could to keep out of their business, but he knew the time was coming for him to be all up in it. They’d both been moping around, and he hated to see them so upset when he knew they could have what he and Charity had.

  “You heard from Dalton?” he asked Tyler, the club VP and good friend to them all.

  “Nah.” He shook his head before picking up a carton of milk.

  The two of them had been sent on a grocery store run for the club. As a whole, the club always tried to have dinner together once a month, and it was unusual for Dalton to miss it. He hadn’t said whether he’d be coming or not, and normally it was he and Dalton doing the shopping for the meal. Another reason for Drew to be worried.

  “He hasn’t been himself for a while,” Tyler was saying as he leaned over and examined the steaks in the meat counter.

  Everyone knew that, but at the same time, they’d all wanted to give him and Mandy their space. The two of them had been together for years, and they’d never hit a rough patch before. All of them assumed it would be over within a few weeks, and they would be back to their normal selves. Maybe they’d go away for a few days, spend some time alone together, and come back with smiles on their faces.

  That hadn’t happened though, and they were all left scratching their heads—trying to figure out what’d gone wrong, where they all fit now in the grand scheme of things. Both Mandy and Dalton were integral parts of the club. No one wanted to take sides because it just didn’t feel right. It was fucking awkward all the way around, and nobody wanted to shake an already rocking boat.

  Drew had a sinking feeling that whatever had gone wrong had been on Dalton’s end, and what little he knew to be truth only scratched the surface. Best friends talked, but it’d been a long time since Dalton had confided in him. Which still left him in a damn hard position. He loved his sister, but he loved his best friend too. While Mandy was pretty fucking settled, he knew Dalton was far from it. He liked to present an outward appearance that said he had it all together, and it was a lie. With Mandy, Dalton was calm. Without Mandy, Drew knew Dalton would be a mess, and he hoped like hell they could figure out what the fuck was going on before the beginning of the end with him.

  There were many things about Dalton’s life Mandy had never been privy too. Things Dalton had told Drew in confidence. It was a confidence he would never break. He wouldn’t, couldn’t do that to his friend. What he did know was that both of them were hurting and neither one of them were talking about it. Frustrated didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. Holding the key that would unlock whatever was going on between them was beginning to wear on him.

  “What do you think it is?” he asked Tyler. Tyler always knew the answer, didn’t matter the question. He was interested to see if Tyler’s answer matched his own. For the better part of his life, Drew had gone to the older man when he hadn’t been able to go to his own father. Tyler had never let him down, and he hoped like hell that together they didn’t let Dalton down.

  Tyler was slow to answer. He rubbed his hand over his chin, selecting his words carefully. “It’s something deep inside of him, something he can’t tell anyone, he’s been holding in for a long time. It’s not a secret he’s necessarily trying to keep from you, Mandy, or any of us. It seems to be something he has yet to face, a very personal thing. I don’t think it’s something anyone can take personally either. There are things you don’t tell him you’ve kept inside. If he feels the need to work through this on his own, I think we have to give him that space. It’s only fair—unless we see he’s about to harm himself.”

  It was hard, knowing that his best friend was going through something he couldn’t help him with, knowing it was going to hurt his sister. Realizing in the end it would probably end up hurting him too, but he knew at the same time he had to let whatever this was play out the way it would. He wasn’t God, and he couldn’t bend people to his will. Drew had to believe that when Dalton was ready, he’d come to him and ask for the advice he would so desperately need. It just sucked a big one waiting for that ah-ha moment and knowing there was nothing he could do to help until he was asked to.

  Chapter Three

  We were always so careful.

  He typed the text message on his phone, debating on whether he should send it to Mandy or not. The fact of the matter was they were. He’d never wanted any slip-ups, no mistakes. They’d taken extra precautions, and he’d been almost obsessive in his need not to have a child. All had gone well until that night. The one night he hadn’t been able to say no to her. She’d looked beautiful in her anger at him for pushing her away. There hadn’t even been a second thought on having her. For once he’d taken what he wanted and not felt bad about it.

  Funny how it had all worked out.

  “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Mandy asked, grabbing his shirt, pulling at him, trying to wrap him up in her arms.

  He slung her hands off him, refusing to acknowledge how good they felt, how right her touch was on his skin. He’d wanted that touch for so long, had ached for it as he’d done his best to keep himself away from her. “You wouldn’t understand.” Those were the words he kept telling himself about the situation.

  “How do you know?” she questioned, gripping his shirt in her hands, twisting the material between her knuckles. “You haven’t talked to me about it, haven’t explained what’s going on. I have absolutely no idea what’s going on in your head or in your heart.” She cried, letting a few tears slip loose from behind her lashes.

  Those last words were ripped from her throat. They in turn ripped through him. It didn’t make him feel good that he was hurting her like this, but it couldn’t be prevented. It would hurt the both of them in the end. He watched the tear trail down her cheek, looking at how unbelievably long her lashes were, how beautiful she was, and wondering why in the fuck she wanted him.

  Letting her pull him close, he reluctantly ran a hand through her hair, using his palm to cup her head. Moving down to the nape of her neck, he couldn’t resist closing the distance and pulling her in for a kiss—just a little taste of the p
aradise he’d been denying both of them lately. One little taste—that’s all he meant to allow. Instead, passion hit him hard in the sternum, arousal in the groin. Didn’t matter that they hadn’t seen eye to eye lately, he’d loved Mandy for a lifetime, and nothing would change that.

  “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled because he couldn’t stop himself. There wasn’t any way he could at this point. It’d been too long, and he couldn’t deny his wants or needs any longer.

  Their lips fused together—a meeting of long-denied passion, one he wasn’t sure he could continue to neglect. Her lips were soft against the firm strength of his. Gripping her hair between his fingers, he pulled on the length, using the same amount of force she used to pull on the cotton of his shirt.

  He walked her backwards until her knees hit the bed. This had to be the last time, until he could figure out what the fuck to do. He couldn’t keep stringing her along; it hurt both of them too much.

  “Dalton,” she sighed as he separated their lips and breathed deeply.

  Being in her arms was his home, had been his home since they were teenagers. When all he had was the piece of shit trailer his uncle raised them in, she’d been there. Mandy had never complained; she’d always told him he was good enough. Knowing what he was doing to her right now gutted him. It made him hate himself, made him want to tear his skin off. He felt foul and ashamed.

  Pushing her back against the bed, he layered his body on top of hers, wanting to feel every inch of it. This memory would have to last. It would have to get him through lonely days and long nights. It seemed as if his situation would never improve, and it was time he faced that.