Broken: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel

by Natasha Thomas

  “If that’s how he loves me then why did he make it so I couldn’t stay?” I ask. “If he isn’t whole without me why push me away like that? I understand what you’re saying, that I’m a risk, but isn’t that what life is, a series of risks?”

  “You’re not wrong, little one, but for a second imagine you’re him, put yourself in his shoes. Up till he got involved with Priest, Vic, Sheila, the club, his life was all a series of risks, and most of those risks ended badly. Really fucking badly for him, Rob too. He watched his life spiral out of his control because of that shit, so when he could he took control of it, stopped taking uncalculated risks, one’s that he didn’t have a better than good chance of predicting the outcome.” Sighing he confirms what I was already beginning to think myself. “Glock doesn’t know how to live a normal life, one with ups and downs. He needs constant, solid predictability. This thing with you knocked him off his axis. Add to that a baby, and who you are to the club and you’ve got a war raging inside his head, a war he doesn’t have the first fucking clue how to fight.”

  Wringing my hands together I ask a question I’m not sure I want the answer to.

  “What am I supposed to do, Fury? It’s not only me this effects anymore. If it was I’d walk away if that was what he needed. If he needed me to go back to being just his friend, his support I would, but I can’t. I have a baby to think about now, so does he.”

  “And that’s why you’re perfect for him, Lexi. You’re strong enough to call it quits, let him work his shit out for himself. You’re not demanding he change, being a stage five clinger and shit.”

  “Stage five clinger? What are you, a fifteen-year-old high school girl?” I enquire.

  Flicking my nose he chuckles again, shaking his head in mirth.

  “No, I can assure you I’m not a high school kid, not a girl either little one, but I think I’ve been spending too much fucking time around Half-pint if that shit’s rubbing off on me.

  Half-pint, or Bella as she’s more commonly called is Fury’s best friend and the sister of Bubba, owner of Wicked Skin, Furnace’s only tattoo shop. Bella and Fury have been friends for years, and much like Glock and I there is a significant age different, but that’s where the similarities end. Bella and Fury have never been anything more than friends, and I dare someone to insinuate differently to Bella, she would laugh in your face while kicking your ass. She reminds me of Ade and Lou if they had a love child. Bella isn’t quite as full-on as Lou, but she doesn’t pull any punches if they’re deserved.

  “Hmmm,” I murmur in response.

  Fury leans forward kissing my forehead lightly.

  “Love you little one, give him time, yeah? He’ll sort it all out up here,” he says tapping his temple. “When he does he’ll come back to you dick between his legs begging for another shot.”

  High pitch laughter make me turn my head in the direction of the bar, and what I see almost erases everything Fury has told me over the past twenty minutes. Candice is wrapped around Glock like a vine. Her head hanging back, exposing her neck to his kisses. He’s cupping her ass in his hands as she sits straddled across his lap, in what can only be described as a stripper belt turned skirt. Her ass is literally hanging out for all to see, and all I can do while I witness this every tragic event is shake my head in disgust.

  Without preamble I stand up and brush the imaginary lint off my jeans.

  “I don’t think it’s his legs his dick will be between if you want my honest opinion.” Pointing toward the two making a spectacle of themselves, I lean down quickly kissing his cheek and say, “I heard every word I promise you that Fury, but I won’t be waiting for him when he does have his lightbulb moment. I’m sorry that he suffered as a child, and I hate he still suffers with those demons now, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to keep the cycle going, to hurt people that love and care about you like they’re nothing. Because that’s what he’s doing, he’s treating me like I’m nothing, and I won’t tolerate that shit. If he wants to dip his dick into every snatch this side of L.A then so be it, but I won’t stand idly by and pretend like I don’t care, or that it doesn’t destroy me every time I have to see it.”

  I don’t wait for his response, and I don’t do the dignified thing, which would be leaving the way I came. Instead I walk close enough to the bar where they’re seated so that can’t not notice me. I want Glock to know I was here, that I saw what he was doing. I’m not letting him carry on without seeing the damage he’s causing.

  We don’t acknowledge each other, but Glock does catch my eyes, and for a moment I think I see regret and pain flash through them, but it’s hidden behind a grin so quickly I question whether it was ever there. I don’t smile in return, I don’t glare either. I do the only thing I can, and that is to put a mask of indifference on my face, and leave with my head held high.

  I haven’t been back since, and I won’t be going back. There won’t be any need for Uncle Tank to warn me away, or people to feel like they should babysit poor, little, old me. I have no intention of setting foot in the clubhouse from now until the end of time if I can help it. I know that’s unrealistic, but for the foreseeable future I don’t have the desire or requirement to be there, so I’ll stay away.

  Aunt Sheila clearing her throat startles me from my daydream. I’ve been doing that a lot lately, losing time, getting lost in memories.

  “That looked intense, Lee-lee. You’ve been staring off into space for five minutes. Are you sure you’re okay, you’re not coming down with something are you?”

  Crossing my finger across my heart I replied,

  “Cross my heart, hope to die, I’m fine Aunt Sheila. You can stop writing the grocery list for chicken noodle soup in your head now.” And she would be. That’s what Sheila does, she care for people through food as my burgeoning fridge can attest to.

  Straightening her skirt she stands up, pulling me up with her. Embracing me tightly, she strokes my hair back and makes me promise to call her if I need anything. I do, but I think we’re both aware that’s a call that I won’t ever place. Not because I don’t love her or know she’d be there for me at a moments’ notice, but because I’m self-reliant and always have been. I don’t see pregnancy changing that either. If anything it has made my desire to make this work independent of everyone else stronger.

  I look at the kitchen clock and groan out loud. I have twenty-five minutes to make my appointment. One I’m hoping will set my fears to rest.

  The drive to Clearwater may only take twenty-minutes, but when pregnancy brain kicked in and it took me ten to find my keys, I’m already running late when I step into the doctors’ office. After filling out the pre-requisite paperwork and handing over my insurance card, which thankfully still works, I take a seat to wait. What can I say? My dad pays for my insurance so the fear it wouldn’t was not an imagined one. That’s something I have to do I think writing it on my mental to-do list, get insurance in my own name.

  “Miss Marks,” Dr. Hansen calls brightly. He smiles at me kindly, and dutifully I follow him down the hallway struggling to keep up with his fast clip. Once we reach his office he ushers me in shutting the door behind us to give us privacy.

  His office is sectioned into two spaces, one for consulting, and the other for examinations and regular check-ups. It’s a beautiful office, painted in warm tones, filled with comfortable furniture. Except for the bed of torture, stirrups and all.

  Not wasting any time Dr. Hansen asks,

  “Has there been any change since we spoke last, Alexis? Any signs the spotting is slowing, or any change in symptoms at all.” I shake my head and he smiles warmly at me again. “Okay, that’s fine. I was hoping for a different answer, but unfortunately if your condition remains the same we will have to go ahead with the second ultrasound and pelvic exam. Are you still alright to have that done today? Do you have any questions about either procedure?”

  I’ve had an ultrasound to determine my due date four weeks ago, so I know how that works, but
I do have a question about the exam.

  “Is it okay to do the ultrasound first? Just in case the exam isn’t necessary.”

  Nodding rapidly he replies,

  “Great minds think alike. I was just about to suggest we go ahead and see what your little one is doing by performing the less evasive procedure first. Go ahead and hop up on the table for me. There’s a gown on the end of the bed, put it on while I go and find my ultrasound technician so you have some privacy. Just open the door when you’re done so I know you’re ready for us, okay?”

  “Sure,” I say meekly in response.

  Slipping my jeans off, I fold them and place them on the end of the table along with my sweatshirt, and jacket. Once I have the gown in ugly clinical green securely fastened, I pad over to the door pulling it open just a crack. The crinkle of the protective paper sheet they use to cover the exam table is the only sound in the otherwise silent room, and this kind of silence, the kind that is mixed with anxiety is deafening.

  Less than five minutes later, and older lady with a short, grey bob style haircut wheels in a large portable ultrasound. The way is thuds across the uneven surface of the floor beneath sounds more like it’s marching to deliver to bad news than tell me everything’s alright. Call me a pessimist, but I can’t help the feeling of uncertainty that washes over me at my baby’s future. I want more than anything to believe he or she will be okay, that this is normal and I’ve got nothing to worry about, however the sinking feeling I’m experiencing tells me nothing could be further from the truth.

  “Hi there, I’m June and you’re Miss Alexis aren’t you?” The woman beams at me. “Let me just get this big, ole contraption set up and have a look at what you’re cooking in there.”

  As she potters around making sure all the cables are attached correctly she hums some kind of tune I’ve never heard before. It’s soft and melodic, sort of soothing actually, and I can’t help thinking to myself that under better circumstances it would be beautiful.

  “There now,” June says after it looks like she’s finally finished. “Now if we’re lucky we’ll get a sneak peak at the sex today, would you like to know what you’re having, sweetheart? If I can get the little one to cooperate that is.”

  I hadn’t considered whether I’d find out the sex or not. I suppose if I were still with Glock we would have made that kind of decision together, but because we’re not the responsibility falls on me. Thinking about it quickly, so as not to hold her up I say,

  “Um, yes please, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course dear, you’re the boss in here.” She says sitting herself down on the small rollaway stool with yet another smile.

  Squeezing the conduction gel on my stomach, it goes on cold but soon warms up as she uses the hand tool to spread it around left to right. Settling it on my lower abdomen, June rotates it several times before pushing a button causing the sound of a fast, fluttering heartbeat to fill the room. I didn’t understand until now that when you’re worried about your unborn child that is the most wonderful, heartwarming sound you can ever hear. The sound of your baby’s heartbeat is miraculous on the best of days, but with the limbo I’ve been living in for the past two weeks it’s better than all the Christmas and birthday presents I’ve ever received.

  Turning to me and noticing my smile June pats my hand in support just as Dr. Hansen re-enters the room.

  “That sounds like a perfectly strong, healthy heartbeat your little one has there, Alexis.” Flicking his eyes from the monitor to where I lay on the bed he adds, “We won’t be much longer, a few more measurements and we should be all done. Are you comfortable for now?”

  Without taking my eyes off the tiny screen beside me I answer with far more enthusiasm this time.

  “Absolutely.”

  Poking, prodding and scanning done, they both leave the room to give me time to re-dress, June leaving with what I believe now is her trademark smile, and Dr. Hansen with the promise to return in a few minutes. I don’t waste time dressing, and I’m sitting perched on the edge of me seat as he takes his own, waiting nervously for results that I hope give me a clean bill of health.

  “We won’t need to do the pelvic exam today Alexis, the ultrasound was very informative, and we picked up the reason for the sudden onset of your spotting.” Nodding at him to continue, he does after a short pause to review the report. “Your baby is very healthy, measuring in correctly for the dates we determined during your previous scan. June tells me you would like to know the sex, is that right?”

  Smiling brightly I say,

  “Yes please, if she was able to see it that would be great.”

  With a short, sharp ascent of his head he looks down at the papers in front of him and back up at me.

  “Your little one is most definitely a boy. He measures in at fifteen weeks and five days, with his head, extremities and spine perfectly formed.” The sense of joy that fills me knowing I am having a little boy, Glock’s little boy, is unlike anything I can explain. If I thought hearing his heartbeat was amazing, then hearing I’m going to have a baby boy is surreal.

  Meeting Dr. Hansen’s eyes I can see a but forming.

  “The reason for the spotting isn’t as straightforward as I first thought however.” At the panic on my face he quickly adds, “oh it’s nothing life threatening for you or the baby, Alexis. In fact, I think with your age, health, and family history, this won’t be a problem for you at all.”

  “Please can you tell me what’s wrong, I’m dying over here.” Maybe a slight exaggeration, but the waiting is killing me.

  Chuckling lightly he hands me a printed image of what looks to be a peanut. Maybe a jelly bean. Hell if I know, it looks like a blob with other blobs coming of it, and they are what I can only assume to be arms and legs. It’s probably not particularly nice of me to refer to my baby as blob, but I can’t help it if that’s what it resembles. Coming around the desk to stand at my side he points to the left side of the picture.

  “See here,” yep he’s pointing at the blob. “That’s your little man. These are his arms, legs, spine, and his head is pointing directly up currently, toward your rib cage. That is perfectly normal at this stage of pregnancy, it isn’t until around thirty-two to thirty-six weeks that babies turn themselves around, and begin their decent into the pelvis preparing for labor and delivery.” Moving his finger to the right hand side he points saying, “And this here seems to be the problem you’re experiencing.” Patting my shoulder reassuringly he goes on to say, “Its quiet common to miss this issue during the first ultrasound as we are only really scanning for dates, and in your case that’s exactly what happened. But the cause of your extended nausea, and spotting is this little fellow hiding behind his brother.”

  The second the final word leaves his mouth everything goes black.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Tallulah

  “A friend will calm you down when you are angry,

  but a best friend will skip beside you with a baseball bat singing

  ‘someone’s gonna get it’.”

  - Rotten eCard

  Getting a phone call from your best friend’s obstetrician’s office is one of the last phone calls you ever want to receive, so to say I freaked out when I was told I was needed down at the office as soon as I could make it would be a massive understatement.

  To my knowledge everything had been going smoothly for Lexi. Granted, I hadn’t been a great friend of late, what with all my own family issues, but I trusted that Lexi would have called me if something was wrong. What also came as a surprise was the receptionist telling me she called because I was named as Lexi’s next of kin. As far as I knew Kendall had been Lexi’s first point of contact for everything since she was five, so this development was news to me. Not that I minded, I’m happy to be there for her whenever and however I can, but I can’t help think about why she would have removed her mom, replacing her with me.

  Sure, Lexi and I have grown close, I’d go as far as to say our frien
dship isn’t merely one of best friends anymore but more like that of sisters. That aside, it still doesn’t explain Lexi’s sudden need to cut her mom out of something as important as having her first baby though. I know personally that having my mom with me was invaluable. Her wisdom, tips, and support helped me through having my first baby immensely and I couldn’t imagine having to have done it without her.

  Parking, I don’t worry about grabbing my purse. I yank my keys from the ignition, snatch up my phone, and depress the looks mid-run into the waiting room of Dr. Hansen’s offices. Out of breath and praying there isn’t anything seriously wrong with Lexi, I skid to a stop beside a receptionist, Mandy, that I know all too well from my own antenatal appointments.

  “I’m here for, Alexis Marks. Someone called me and told me to come right away,” I say panting out every word.

  “That was me, dear.” A kind looking older lady interjects. “My name is June, and if you would follow me, sweet Alexis is just through here.”