by Marie James
I honestly can’t blame them, even though I’ve never been interested in settling down or even have a woman steady enough to call a girlfriend. They seem happier, more willing to get up every day and fight to keep them. I guess that’s what love does to a man.
Even at thirty-two, I can’t see myself committing to one person like they have. I love my freedom, having to answer to no one but the good Lord above. I’m sure having someone to hold at night would be great, but it’s the questions and sense of ownership you have to deal with in the morning that doesn’t appeal to me.
“What has that bike ever done to you?” I hear from the open doorway of the garage.
I scoff at Kincaid and keep working.
“Emmalyn finally get tired of your ass and throw you out?” I say putting down the wrench and picking up a screwdriver.
I look up when he doesn’t answer only to be met with a broad smile and a wink. “She’s taking a nap,” he says quickly.
That’s another thing that’s different. Before Emmalyn came along, it was all parties, hot women, and more sex than any of us could handle. Now… well, now he’s all settled and less talkative.
I’m not saying Kincaid and I had a bromance on any level, but we could shoot the shit, talk about our conquests, go trolling for new pussy.
Of course he doesn’t talk about Emmalyn that way. He wouldn’t be the man I’ve known for years if he disrespected her in that way. I’ve grown to love the woman too. She’s charming, caring, and a better cook than any of the other fuckers in this club, which is a huge benefit when Rose isn’t around.
If this was a different situation I’d joke with him about fucking her into oblivion to the point she can’t keep her eyes open, but I can’t. You don’t talk about someone’s future wife like that. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t asked her yet, but the outcome is inevitable.
“A lady needs her rest,” I say instead.
“You’ve been out here a lot lately,” he says grabbing a beer from the fridge and handing me a fresh one.
I shrug. What else can I do, confess to contemplating the universe?
“We both know there’s nothing wrong with that bike, man. What gives?”
“It’s running too rich,” I lie.
“Tell that lie to someone who doesn’t know better,” he counters.
I smile over at him, hating that he’s one of the few people who will call me on my bullshit.
“What are your thoughts on this whole Kid situation?” I ask taking the focus off of me and throwing that poor bastard under the bus.
“Which aspect?” He asks taking a long swig from his beer bottle.
“She’s seventeen, Prez.” Plain and simple.
“She’s eighteen in a few weeks, and I know that’s not the reason you have an issue with it,” he says giving me a pointed look. “If I recall, you have a thing for the younger ones as well.”
Damn. He has me there. His mention of younger women has my mind drifting back to one dark-haired beauty in particular. It’s been a few months since I met up with Misty at the wedding reception in Denver. I usually don’t go back for more once I’ve been with a woman. My “relationships,” if you can even call them that, with women usually last as long as the mission does, and after we head home that’s the end of it.
Misty being at the reception was just perfect. Having to look for another woman to spend some time with wasn’t really what I wanted to do. I wanted fast, easy. So imagine my surprise when I got the text from Kincaid that I had to get to Ian Hale’s house because of a threat against Emmalyn; I didn’t want to leave.
I’m not saying I wanted to snuggle with her or talk about our future together because obviously there isn’t one. No, I wanted to sink into her again and again. Her body is beyond addictive. That’s the only reason I’ve texted her a few times since leaving Denver. I have to make sure she’s still available if I ever end up passing through.
“She’s young, Prez. That means she’s impressionable. Surely you haven’t forgotten about the little competition he’s been working through for years?”
He sits quietly in contemplation for a long moment.
“I’m worried about her,” I say in emphasis. “What kind of men are we if we sit back and let him turn an innocent girl into a club whore? That taints everything we’ve been doing for years. It makes us no better than the fuckers we obliterate on missions. We’re going to let this shit happen on our own damn doorstep?”
“I think your perception is a little misguided,” he says with anger in his voice. “Have you seen how he is with her? How he looks at her?” He points toward the open door and pathway that leads to the clubhouse. “I think he’d gut any man who even looked crossways at her. He’s not turning her into a whore. If he wanted to do that, and she was agreeable, she’d have already been under every one of those men in there. She’s seventeen, Shadow. Completely legal in the eyes of this state. That crazy fucker has in his mind that he can’t touch her until she’s eighteen.”
I nod because everything he’s said is the truth. That boy has enough charm to coax the panties off of a nun. If he wanted her before her birthday, he would’ve already sealed the deal. No doubt about that.
“He’s waiting for her. Have you seen him sneaking around and fucking with the other girls?” I shake my head because he’s been so far up Khloe’s ass that he hasn’t had a chance to focus on anyone else.
“I’m pretty sure the sad fucker is falling in love with her,” he continues.
I scoff at that. “Kid doesn’t do love.”
He pats his hand against his thick chest. “Neither did I, but then Em came along. I can tell you brother, no other woman has held a candle to her. I never believed in love at first sight. Insta-love was bullshit until I saw that woman in the bar back in Denver. Did I love her the second I laid eyes on her? Of course not, but some kind of instinct took over. After I saw that piece of shit Bobby hit her, I knew I’d lay down my life to protect her. I think Khloe is that woman for Kid.”
“Well, fuck,” I mutter. “When you put it that way.”
He laughs and tosses his beer bottle in the trash. “Just you wait, Shadow.”
“Don’t even imply that shit, Prez. I don’t imagine there is a single woman out there that can get my ass to settle down.” He laughs at this as if he holds all the answers to the universe I was contemplating earlier.
My cell phone chimes a text alert. I pull it out reading a message from Snatch about the game I’m missing in the living room.
“Misty?” Kincaid asks.
I look up at him and narrow my eyes.
“No,” I say with more frustration than I should allow. “It’s like she’s fucking ghosted me or some shit.”
He laughs, and the sound grates on my nerves.
“Don’t worry, man,” he says walking toward the door to go back inside the clubhouse. “There’s plenty of other pussy out there for you.”
“Asshole,” I mutter to his parting back.
Chapter 3
I can’t fight back the sting of tears in my eyes as I collect money from the ATM. My mind is only able to focus on the conversation I had earlier this week with my mother. She was sitting on my bed when I came back into my room from my shower.
I stop dead in my tracks when I see my mother sitting on the end of my bed. Her head is hung low, and a very familiar bottle of prenatal vitamins are in her hands.
She hears me enter the room and lifts her puffy, red eyes to mine. “Care to explain this?” She says holding up the vitamins.
I look at her in shock as my pulse pounds in my ears. I knew this day would come. There’s no way to hide a baby from parents who practically control every second of my life; I just thought I had more time.
“Misty, please tell me you’re trying to get your hair to grow faster, or that you heard they make your fingernails stronger,” she pleads.
I shake my head, and my heart breaks at her gasp and trembling lip. I feel like I’ve betrayed her and m
y father both. They raised me to be better than this. I know I’m in this situation because of my own choices but at the same time, they will consider this a failure on their part as well.
I can point fingers all day long. I could blame their strict parenting as the reason I rebelled, but it won’t change the fact that I’m pregnant.
“I’m sorry, momma,” I say and hang my head. My shoulders begin to shake with my silent sobs, and I can sense that she’s risen off of the bed.
I anticipate a warm, comforting touch. My mother may have strict expectations, but she’s always been loving. Comfort is not what I get, though. I see the bottle of pills lifted into my line of sight and then she’s shoving them into my hands.
“Take care of it,” she spits.
I jerk my head up to hers and don’t even recognize my own mother.
“Momma?” I sputter. If a baby out of wedlock is a sin, then abortion is a one-way ticket to hell. She couldn’t possibly be telling me to kill this baby, her grandchild.
“You heard me, Misty.” She begins walking toward the door. “You have one week. I won’t mention this to your father.” She closes the door softly behind her like she didn’t just rip my heart out.
With a shaking hand, I pull the small stack of money from the machine and put it in my purse. How convenient to have an ATM right outside of the clinic. Genius if you think about it.
I can hardly talk as I make my way to the front desk to check in for my appointment. I’m out of options. My mother only gave me one. Every time I’ve tried to talk to her since the conversation in my room, she treats me like I have the plague. She’s avoided me at all costs.
I take a seat after checking in and try not to look around the crowded room. I don’t want to look into the eyes of other women having to make this awful choice.
“It’s not so bad,” I hear from beside me.
I look up and see a young woman, maybe twenty-five or so. She’s got on heavy makeup and is twirling a sucker around in her mouth.
“I’m sorry?” I whisper.
“Abortions,” she says with a shrug. “It gets easier every time.
I gawk at her. “You’ve had more than one?” I ask baffled because I know I’ll never make this mistake again. It’s stupid to be in this position once.
She smiles around her sucker, and the sight of her is making my stomach turn. “Five or six. I can’t really remember.” She leans in close like she’s going to tell me a secret. “If you cry and tell them you were raped, they’ll give you a discount.”
I can feel the bile rising up the back of my throat.
“Ms. Bowen?” I hear from across the room.
I shuffle out of my seat and practically run across the room to the open door where the nurse is. I don’t even bother to look back at the woman I was just speaking with. She has to be joking, but deep down in my bones I know that she’s not.
I go through the process of having my weight and vitals checked before I’m ushered into a tiny office. There are racks of pamphlets with information on them about abortions, adoption, and parenting.
“Ms. Bowen,” the nurse says sitting behind the desk. “I see here you’ve scheduled an appointment for an abortion today.”
I nod and wipe away a tear that has fallen down my cheek.
“There is no waiting period for that procedure. You can do that today if you choose, but we’re urged to speak with you about your other options. Termination isn’t the only one out there.”
“It’s my only option,” I correct her.
“There are services in the community if you want to keep your baby, Ms. Bowen. Adoption is also another option.”
I shake my head. “I’ve been instructed to terminate.”
Her eyes widen and then narrow.
“By the father?” She asks suspiciously.
“No ma’am. He doesn’t even know. My mother found out,” I say simply then look down at my hands in shame.
“So they will make you leave if you carry the baby to term.” It’s not a question; it’s a statement. Clearly, this situation happens often.
I nod my head.
“Ms. Bowen,” she says softly. I refuse to look at her. I’m so ashamed. “Misty?” she says softly.
I look up at her and almost hate the sympathy in her eyes. The look she is giving me now is how my mother should have looked at me.
“There are homes for women like you. This happens a lot. You can move in; they’ll help you get a job. If you want to keep the baby, they’ll make sure you have the best start as a mother. If you choose adoption, they'll help you pick a nice family.”
“I… I want the abortion,” I say on a sob.
“What about the father? Have you discussed this with him?”
“Do I have to?”
She shakes her head no. “Colorado doesn’t require paternal consent, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t know.”
I shake my head. “It was a one night stand.” Not technically the truth, but might as well be. I was only a good time to Shadow. I lied and told him I was on birth control. He shouldn’t have to make this terrible decision, and if I'm honest with myself, I know my heart can’t take what I’m certain his advice would be.
I think he’d tell me the same thing my mother did; only I can’t survive hearing those words out of his mouth. I don’t want confirmation that I was nothing to him.
“The abortion, please.” My voice is stronger, even though I feel like I’m going to break.
She nods and stands up. “Please follow me.”
Twenty minutes later I’m in a gown and lying flat on an examination table. Even though I know the exact date I got pregnant, they still require an ultrasound to determine gestational age.
“Ten weeks,” the tech says handing me a wipe for my stomach. “The nurse will be back in a minute to discuss the procedure with you.”
“Okay,” a female voice says from the doorway. She didn’t even bother knocking, and the look on her face says she’s completely over today. There is no sympathy in her eyes for my hard decision. I immediately wish the other nurse was in here with me.
“You’re ten weeks, so we can give you some medication and wait it out, but that takes a few hours sometimes.” She stops abruptly and looks at me for the first time. “Did you bring a friend with you?” I begin to shake my head, no, but she holds up a hand to keep me from responding. “Because if you did, there’s another procedure you can do and it will have you out of here in like thirty minutes. It requires mild sedation, so you’ll need someone to drive you home. You brought a friend right?”
Do I want to be here for hours? Of course I don’t, but I can sit in my car for a while until any side effects wear off. She gives me a hopeful look. “I brought a friend,” I lie. “She’s waiting outside for me.”
Eight hundred dollars and thirty minutes are all it takes to kill a baby? That knowledge disgusts me. The nurse is so used to terminating pregnancies, she practically just told me to lie so she can move onto the next poor woman who’s had to make this terrible decision.
I’m second guessing my decision of driving all the way to Colorado Springs. I wanted to give my parents the courtesy of keeping anyone they know from seeing me walk into the clinic. I should have used the one in Denver, more specifically the one only half a mile from our church.
My mother has asked me to do the unthinkable; something some people in her church would shun her for. I didn’t miss the fact that my mother preaches tolerance and acceptance when people make mistakes. Hell, I’ve even heard her tell others that abortion is an abomination, but the second she’s faced with an unplanned pregnancy, she demands it as the only option.
My thoughts are interrupted by a harsh knock on the door. The nurse walks in and is followed by a doctor who looks like he hasn’t slept or bathed in a week or more.
“Alright, Margie,” he says sitting down on the stool and pulling a small rolling table closer to the bottom of the examination table I’m sitting on.
> Margie? Who the hell is Margie?
Chapter 4
We have been run ragged the last week and a half. We’re in the middle of nowhere, in some small ass house, which is really no more than a big room with cots lined up on the wall. We will probably only be here for a day or two. We don’t even bother doing any form of unpacking anymore. We’ve bounced from town to town tracking some asshole that seems to one up us each and every time we get close.
“This fucking sucks,” Kid complains and falls back roughly on his bed.
I hear Kincaid chuckle at him. They’ve both been assholes since leaving New Mexico three weeks ago. The more time that passes that we don’t end this mission, the crankier they get.
“And this is why settling down and committing to one piece of pussy is never a good idea,” I say dismissively over Kid’s complaining.
I catch a glare from both of them. I raise my hands up in surrender but keep the wide smile on my face. “No offense to Emmalyn and Khloe, guys.” I angle my head over at Snatch, who’s resting like a baby, not a care in the world. “Look how content he is. He got laid a week ago when we had the hold over in Dubai. He’s feeling no pain.”
“How is that even fucking possible?” Kid snarls. “We were at the military airport for like two hours.”
“He made it happen,” I say with another quick grin.
“This isn’t even about that,” Kincaid says. His eyes dart to Kid and back to me. “Well, at least it isn’t for me.”
Kid looks offended. “Hey! I take offense to that! Khloe is my world, man. I miss the hell out of her, not just the wild incredible…” He lets his voice trail off as he climbs out of his rack and heads into the bathroom.
Kincaid chuckles and shakes his head. “Poor fucker,” he mutters.
I cock an eyebrow at him. “Really? I remember the first mission after you met Emmalyn. You were just as pitiful.”
“Shut up, fucker,” he says tossing an empty water bottle at my head.
