by B. B. Hamel
I’m not getting anywhere, though, so I decide to take a break. I walk over to the radio and, just as I’m about to switch it off, a news segment comes on that catches my attention.
“Mayor Buddy Weaver was spotted last night in the Spotted Owl, throwing dollar bills at the girls. When asked to do an interview, the mayor said, ‘You can go interview my nuts.’ More at eleven.”
I shake my head and switch it off. I don’t remember when my father’s fucking antics became actual news, but apparently now people give a shit about that windbag. He’s been boozing and going to see strippers on the taxpayer’s dime for years, and now suddenly people are talking about it like they give a fuck.
Frankly, I know it’ll just blow over, like everything else has blown over for my father.
People think it’s easy being the son of the fucking beloved long-time mayor, but that fucker’s never done shit for me. He’d always been too busy fucking around on my mom and taking bribes to ever bother having a conversation with his son, and you know what? Good fucking riddance. I wouldn’t have learned a thing from that bastard anyway. When my mother died from cancer three years ago, my only family died with her. I’m only related to that bastard in name, and that’s how I like to keep it.
Of course, sometimes he extends an olive branch, like two months ago when he invited me to that party. I’m glad I decided I could suck it up and drink some free booze for a few hours, because that’s how I met Alexa.
I’ve been thinking about her ever since that night, but she didn’t seem to want to see me again, and I haven’t tried to press. Plus, it would be fucking difficult dating someone that works for my father, seeing as how I hate that cocksucker.
Still, the way she said that she can’t get pregnant, practically begging me to come inside her… fuck, that was too much. She was sexy, cute, funny, easy to talk to, everything I look for in a woman. But she never called, and I can tell when a woman doesn’t want to see me again.
That’s fine, that wasn’t my first one-night stand. Still, that’s the first time a one-night stand has really stuck with me.
I walk away from the silent radio and over to a refrigerator I keep in the corner. I grab a beer from it and crack it open just as I hear the bell that means someone just stepped into the front of my shop.
“We’re closed!” I yell out. “Sorry, come back tomorrow.” I don’t feel like dealing with another rich asshole that thinks he wants me to build him a bike right now.
But I hear footsteps coming back toward here, and I’m about to give him my angriest “fuck off,” when Marko steps around the corner.
He grins at me and I let out a breath. “I thought you were a customer,” I say.
“You get those?”
I grin at him. “Fuck off.”
He laughs and walks back into my shop. We hug real quick and I get him a beer. He thanks me for it, admiring my current project.
“Who ordered this up?” he asks.
“I think he’s one of yours, actually,” I say. “Big Malone?”
Marko gives me a look and laughs. “Big Malone ordered this? Fucking shit. I don’t think that fat asshole can even ride.”
“Well, he paid for it already, so it’s his when I’m done.”
“Jesus. Who ever thought a mobster would be riding this fucking thing?”
We stand side by side, admiring the dragon designs. Marko’s about my height, broad shoulders, dark hair slicked back, dark eyes, dark clothes. He’s a caption in the Costa crime family, which is the most powerful mafia in the whole fucking state, and most of the east coast.
The mayor’s son and the mobster, good friends since we were kids. That’s the kind of place Providence is. The criminals are all friends with the cops, and we all get along, until we fucking don’t.
“What can I do for you, Marko?” I ask him.
He smiles a little thinly at me. “Right down to business?”
“Been a long fucking day, and you don’t show up randomly with good news.” I lean back against a stool, sipping my beer. “What’d my fuckhead father do?”
Marko laughs again, but there’s no real joy there. “You notice anything about him lately?”
I hesitate. I can’t pretend like I haven’t. Buddy’s always been a boozer and a prick, but he’s being going out of his way to get in trouble these past few months. That radio story is just one in a long string of stories about Buddy lately, and if I gave a fuck about him, I might think he’s in real fucking trouble.
“No,” I say instead, and I know Marko can see right through that.
He just nods. “Look, I’m here as a friend, okay?”
“As opposed to what?”
He gives me a look and doesn’t answer. “Your father’s been gambling a lot.”
“Is that news?”
“More than usual,” he goes on. “Plus, there were some deals that fell through a few months ago, and some fights he started, and a few other things—”
I hold my hand up to stop him. “What does he owe?”
“Elias, it’s a lot, man.”
“How much?” I ask again.
“Over eight hundred thousand.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s mostly from those deals, and the bribes he took that never panned out,” Marko says. “But it’s bad, man, really bad.”
“Shit.” That sort of money is the amount that the mob will actually kill you over. Not even the mayor is immune from retribution when it comes to that amount of cash, not in a town that’s owned by the mafia.
“I’m just here to warn you,” Marko continues. “You gotta lay low, okay?”
“I don’t have anything to do with Buddy,” I say.
“I know that, a lot of people know that, but not everyone cares.” He pauses and gives me a meaningful look. “Raymond doesn’t. Blood is blood.”
I cringe. Raymond Costa, the old man, is the head of the Costa crime family. He’s been in this city forever, running it behind the scenes, and he gets a piece of everything. I’ve never met him personally, but I’ve seen him before, sitting in his lawn chair outside his many properties, surveying everything and smoking his cigars. He watches like he owns the town, and that’s because he fucking does.
“Shit,” I say, and take a long pull of beer.
“Yeah,” Marko says in answer, and we drink in silence for a minute.
I don’t know what the fuck to say. My father’s been in some shit in the past, but never this amount of money, and I’ve never heard Raymond’s name thrown around like that before. Marko’s a captain, but he doesn’t have that much power, not enough to save my father if something goes down.
Not like I want him saved, to be honest. I just don’t want the collateral damage to fall down on my head. I have a good life here, a life that I built without him.
“Thanks for the beer,” Marko says, putting the bottle down on the bench. “I should get going.”
“Yeah, sure.” I walk with him toward the front of the shop. “How’s Dana doing? And Will?”
“Good,” he says. “Will asked about you the other day, wants you to come over and let him ride your bike.”
I laugh. Will is Marko’s little boy. “I can do that,” I say.
“Good. I’ll hold you to it.” We stop out front and Marko pulls me into a hug. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Yeah, you too.”
He nods and turns to go. As he opens the door, he pauses a second before turning back to me, a big smile on his face.
Standing on the doorstep is Alexa.
I stare at her, shocked. She looks just as beautiful as I remember, with long, dirty-blonde hair, ice blue eyes, smooth skin, and long legs. She smiles a little awkwardly, and Marko gives me a look.
“See you later,” I say to Marko loudly.
He gets the hint and fucks off. I watch him go as Alexa steps into the front of my shop.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” I say to
her.
“Didn’t think you would either,” she says. I can tell something’s wrong right away, though. “But I had to track you down.”
“You could’ve called.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” She cringes, and I feel bad. I shouldn’t be a dick to her. Honestly, I’m really happy she’s here, oddly enough. Despite the fact that I just found out that my father may be killed by the mob, and I may be dragged into it.
“No, I mean, it’s okay. Come on in. You want a drink?”
“I’m pregnant.” She blurts it out all at once, and I feel like my whole world is about to crumble.
3
Alexa
I’m pregnant.”
I don’t know why I just spit it out like that. Maybe it’s because of how awkward I feel. I’m such an idiot. I should have called first, but seeing him again brings back all those feelings from that night. He’s just as handsome, even more so maybe, since he’s a little sweaty and dirty from work and it suits him.
I debated whether or not I would do this. I told him that night that I couldn’t get pregnant, and truth is, I didn’t think I could. I’ve had sex before without condoms, a bunch of times when I had a boyfriend back in college, and I never got pregnant. I don’t know how this happened.
My doctor couldn’t explain it either. I went in as soon as I took the pregnancy test. The doctor confirmed my pregnancy and even did a scan, just to look at the scarring, which he says is still there. It was one in a million that I got pregnant, he said with a laugh. But apparently, that doesn’t matter, because the one-in-a-million chance actually happened, and now here I am, nervous and afraid.
I could have just kept it from Elias. He didn’t need to know at all. I could have taken care of it on my own, and I thought about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I’m going to bring the baby to term and give him or her up for adoption, because I can’t exactly afford a baby. I can barely afford myself. Some other loving, deserving family will take care of my baby, my little miracle baby.
“You’re pregnant,” he repeats, like it’s just a fact.
“Yeah,” I say softly.
“I thought you said you couldn’t get pregnant?” he asks.
A reasonable thing to ask. “My doctors said it was a one in a million chance.” I smile weakly. “I guess I’m really lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you see it.”
“Shit,” he says softly. “So I guess you don’t want a drink.”
I smile at his weak joke. “Guess not.”
“Shit,” he says again, leaning up against the counter. “Pregnant. Shit.”
“Yeah. That’s about how I felt when I heard.”
He laughs a little bit, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t think I’d see you again, and now you’re here, and pregnant. With my baby.”
“I know. It’s crazy. I just… listen, you don’t have to be involved, okay? I just thought you should know.”
“Okay,” he says, blinking. “Okay, sure.”
“I mean, I’m going to give the baby up for adoption. I’m not going to have an abortion or whatever.”
“Good,” he says, and I think he genuinely means it. “About the abortion, I mean. I wouldn’t want you to do that. I mean, I’d support you, but… you know what I mean.”
“I know,” I say, smiling a little bit. His awkward discomfort is making me feel better. “That’s all I came to say, anyway. I’m pregnant on a crazy fluke and I’m going to put the baby up for adoption. So if you see me around and I’m looking fat… that’s why.”
He smiles at my bad joke. “You look perfect, pregnant or not.”
I blush a little bit. It’s such a stupid, simple compliment, but I can’t help smiling at it anyway.
“Okay, well, that’s all I wanted to say.” I turn toward the door, heart beating fast. “I guess I’ll say bye. You really don’t have to contact me or whatever. It’s okay.”
He stares at me for a second, a confused look on his face. “Hold on a second,” he says. “Come with me.”
Without another word, he turns away from the counter and heads into the back of the shop. I pause, not sure what I should do. I didn’t come here to make him feel like he needs to get involved, but I also can’t help but want to be near him. I follow after a short second wrestling with myself, unable to help it. I think I’d do anything he told me to do, and that thought scares me more than a little bit.
There’s a short hallway with a bathroom off to one side, another smaller office on the other, and it ends in a large workshop. There are tools everywhere, workbenches all over the place, a small refrigerator against the one wall, and a radio toward the back.
Elias is standing in front of a half-finished motorcycle. He’s looking at it with a frown on his face, and I slowly join him.
“What do you think?” he asks.
I look at the bike. It’s garish, with big dragons painted on the side, and all the parts molded to look like either fire or a dragon’s head. It’s absolutely over the top and absurd.
“It’s… great,” I say, smiling.
He laughs at me. “It’s horrifying,” he says, “I mean, look at this piece of shit. Dragons all over the place?” He groans a little bit, shaking his head.
I let out a breath, relieved that he can see how bad this bike is. “Why are you building it then?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “I build what people pay me to build,” he says. “And someone’s paying a lot for this one.”
“For dragons,” I say flatly.
He grins. “For lots and lots of dragons.”
I laugh again and some of the tension slowly fades away. For just a moment, I forget that I’m pregnant. “So this is what you do? Build bikes?”
He nods. “Business is pretty decent too. I can’t keep up with the orders.”
“Really? Providence doesn’t really strike me as a big motorcycle town.”
“Apparently it is,” he says, and shrugs. “I didn’t really picture myself building these things, but here I am.”
“How’d it happen?”
He hesitates a second. “Youthful rebellion,” he says finally. “Got into bikes as a way to avoid spending time at home. Eventually started building them myself and found out that I was good at it. Skipped college and opened this business instead with pretty much no money at all, but here I am.”
I watch him for a second. “No money at all?”
He gives me a sidelong glance before finally shaking his head with a little smile. “So you know, huh?”
“Hard not to figure it out,” I admit to him.
I found out that he’s the son of the mayor by accident. I searched his phone number plus his first name, which gave me his last name, and that opened a whole new world to me. I found pictures of him when he was younger in the background of the mayor’s campaign photoshoots, smiling and looking angry at the same time, his mother blonde and pretty in a sad sort of way. I had no clue that Elias was the son of the mayor, but it actually makes a little sense. He has that same charming quality, although Elias isn’t nearly so loud about it. Fortunately, Elias is much more handsome than his father.
“Well, guess it’s about time you found out,” he says, walking back toward the radio. He switches it on, and classic rock comes through. He turns the volume down a bit and I watch him do all this, absolutely fascinated.
How did the son of the most popular and corrupt mayor in this whole nation end up building motorcycles for a living? I can’t imagine his father wanted him to skip college. I bet Buddy had grand plans for Elias, maybe even wanted him to go into politics.
Instead, he ended up here, and I have no clue why.
Elias turns back to me. “My father didn’t help with this,” he says. “I built this all myself. I wouldn’t have accepted his help, even if he offered.”
“Why not?” I ask, but I can already guess.
He pauses, though. “We don’t get along,” he says finally.
I nod and decide not
to press the issue. I can only imagine what it’s like to grow up with Buddy as a father. I know he has a horrible reputation, with lots of rumors about corruption and mafia ties, but I don’t know. It’s hard to know what to believe, although there have been some bad things in the press lately. The office has been a mess of activity, trying to contain it all, but I mostly stay away from all that if I can help it.
“Thanks for showing me this,” I say finally. “It’s really cool.”
“Sure.” He nods a little bit, still watching me with a confused expression.
“I should get going.” I take a step away, and suddenly a part of me wants him to call out, to stop me like he did before. Irrationally, I want him to walk right over and kiss me, tell me he’ll save me, keep me safe forever.
But of course that’s insane. We’re total strangers, and he’s the mayor’s son. The mayor also happens to be my boss, which only makes things that much more confusing, and I don’t even want a baby. I’ve never imagined that I could be a mother. I always thought it wasn’t even possible for me to have a baby, let alone get pregnant by a stranger on a one-night stand.
He doesn’t stop me as I leave. I know it’s for the best. He doesn’t owe me anything, and it was my own stupid idea to let him not use protection. I should have been more careful, but there was no way I could’ve known. It’s all just so mixed up and impossible anymore, but at least I got this over with. I was dreading it, frankly, totally afraid to come here, but it wasn’t so bad.
And now it’s done. I should feel relieved, but instead I have this strange pit in my stomach. I want to go back in there and talk to him more, like we did that night, but I don’t. I leave his store, get into my beat-up car, and drive back to my tiny little apartment to go on with my life. I’ll deal with this baby, put him or her up for adoption, and hopefully that’ll be the end of this story. I’ll be more careful in the future, and I won’t ever see the mayor’s son again.
