“Who’s this, baby?” A whiny nasally voice I’m all too familiar with fills the air. Turning toward the disruption I begin mentally kicking my own ass.
Fucking hell. Not again. When will I fucking learn? Guess the answer is never, because this will be the fourth time I’ve fucked Beth in the last three months, and I’m still making the same mistake. The mistake would be letting her stay the night. No scratch that, it’d be fucking her in the first place, but hey what can I say, I’m nothing if not consistent in my fuck ups. Just ask Adelyn, she’ll attest to it.
I know what you’re thinking; I kicked Beth to the curb the day after I slept with Adelyn. And you’d be right, I did. At the time I never had any intention of touching Beth again, but one night she caught me in a weak moment, that being I was fucking drunk out of my skull, and I somehow ended up taking her up on her invitation to go home with her. Needless to say, shit happened, we fucked, I got my cock sucked, and I went home promising myself it wouldn’t happen again. The rest I’m sure you can work out for yourselves.
Like clockwork this bitch shows up every time I’m fucked up enough to take her up on her offers of quick, no strings sex. It’s not that I can’t say no, because I can. I just don’t want to. Anything to get the memory of Adelyn’s luscious body out of my head. The way she writhed beneath me. The feeling of her hands on my skin, in my hair, running across my back. The thing is, it hasn’t worked yet, and I’m starting to think it doesn’t matter how many times I fuck someone else, or how many people I use to try and replace those memories, it’s just not going to happen.
Worse still, if I found out Adelyn was doing the same thing I’d lose my fucking mind. It might sound hypocritical, but in the end men can detach emotion from sex, women can’t. And I know Adelyn well enough to know that she doesn’t give her body to just anyone, they’d have to mean something to her for her to fuck them. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone else that close to her, not that I have much of a say, but I won’t stand aside and let some other asshole get in her pants either. No asshole but me gets to touch her like that.
Before I can tell Beth to get dressed and leave Emily steps in effectively, and efficiently taking care of it for me.
“Good morning sunslut, up and at ‘em the day’s a wasting. Take off the man’s shirt, and kindly deposit it in the laundry hamper as you scurry around to find what I’m sure will prove to be a delightful outfit fit for royalty at a two dollar whorehouse. It would also be greatly appreciated if you’d consider stripping the bed of the sheets covered in skanks-r-us perfume, I’m thinking my daughter won’t take too kindly to rolling around in last nights’ leftovers. Now, if you’d be so diligent as to comply with those requests I won’t have any need for this,” Emily says placing a 9mm semi-automatic long barrelled Barretta on the table beside her coffee cup like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
I knew this woman was tough, but a badass no. She’d give ninety percent of the brothers in the club a run for their money with her calm demeanour, and the promise to carry out her threats in her eyes. If I wasn’t irrevocably in love with her daughter I might’ve considered changing things up, but lucky for me I’m stuck on the petite blonde because this woman may prove herself to be more than a handful for even me to handle.
Scurrying off like Emily predicted she would Beth leaves to carry out her tasks as requested, without a word of protest. Turning to Emily I’m finding it hard to close my mouth, which I’m sure is gaping. Not a particularly manly reaction, but I figure under the circumstances the guys will let me keep my man card, just this once.
“Oh son, haven’t you read the constitution? It states clearly the right to bear arms, obviously you haven’t spent enough time around my Adelyn she bears at least three of the buggers at all times. Lucky for you she must like you for some reason still unbeknownst to me, or she’d have shot you in the balls by now. My girl’s a crack shot you know. Or maybe you didn’t. Anywho, not why I’m here, and we’re running short on time after that delightful interlude with your latest fuck toy, so let get down to it shall we.”
I inline my head offering her the only response I can formulate,
“Sure, have at it.”
“I believe I will Max, brace yourself because this is going to be fast and hard.” I laugh, but it’s more out of nervousness than humour. I’m fucking scared shitless she’s going to tell me she’s here because something’s wrong with my Angel. My heart beat a staccato rhythm in my chest, and my palms are sweating profusely. I deserve to feel like this, to feel fear so dire that I don’t know if I’ll be able to take my next breath. I deserve everything this woman, the one sitting in fron to f me serves me, and more. Much more.
I’ve been nothing but a heartless prick since finding out she’s carrying my baby. I’ve ignored her, had her followed, told anyone that’d listen what a bitch she is, I spread that shit far and wide with no regard for anyone but myself. And if that wasn’t enough I’ve verbally abused her, not once, but twice. Accused her of shit she hasn’t done, shit she shouldn’t be accountable for. I took my hurt, my anger, my pain at losing her before I even really had her out on her, and I made it clear I think she’s worth less than nothing.
“As you know I found my precious girl a few days old, cold, alone, starving, and strung out in a dumpster not far from my home. I took her to the hospital. I stayed with her. I prayed for her, harder than I’ve prayed for anything, and I still do every night. In the beginning I prayed she’d live, that the sweet, tiny little thing I fund would wake up in the morning. When she did I started praying CPS would let me keep her, raise her as my own. Diesel was only seven at the time, and was absolutely smitten with her. He came to the hospital with me every day, stroked her hair, told her stories, told her about all the things he would teach her if she could come home with us, unfortunately I couldn’t make that a reality, and along with losing the little girl that had captured part of my heart, I had to watch my son say goodbye to the closest thing he had to a sister.”
Taking a deep breath, keeping herself firmly in check Emily goes on,
“Not a day went by I didn’t think about her. Where she was. If they had found her a good home with loving people that would see how special she is. And every night I prayed that one day I would see her again. That I’d see her as a happy, grown, successful woman with a life and family of her own, but I didn’t get that prayer answered either.”
Tears spill over her lower lids and I ask barely controlling my own emotion,
“Can I get you anything?” It’s a bullshit question, she knows it, and I know it, but it’s all I’ve got right now.
Smiling lightly she replies,
“No thank you, I’m fine. I just despise remembering her pain, but it’s for good reason this time, so I’ll be just fine.” Clearing her throat Emily valiantly struggles on, and in the process breaks down the last of my resolve to stay angry at the woman I love more than life itself. “The night Diesel called telling me to get to the clubhouse immediately I thought one of the boys were hurt, I’d helped to raise a lot of them, so it was my worst fear come true to get a call like that from my son. I never expected to be faced with a malnutritioned, teenaged girl that looked like she’d been beaten within an inch of her life, and I certainly didn’t expect to recognise her as the baby I’d saved instantly either. That night, as the clubs doctor examined her while she was passed out I prayed harder than I had the night I first took her to the hospital as an infant. Do you know what I prayed for, Max?”
Shaking my head I say,
“No.” It comes out barely recognisable, much like I assume my Angel had been. And that’s the thought that finally obliterates my iron will. Tears course down my cheeks dripping unchecked on to my chest.
Unfazed by my show of emotion Emily answers,
“I prayed she would wake up. I prayed she would wake up and see she had people who would love and protect her until the end of time, longer if necessary. I prayed to God the daughter of my heart could
move past the horrific damaged that animal had done to her body, her mind, her soul, and come back to us. Most of all I prayed that one day she would find a man that would recognise as instantly as I had how truly exceptional she is. How special, how much she has to offer the world. I prayed my baby would finally meet the person that would heal her heart, and that she would willingly let hold the fragile, delicate heart at the centre of her captive. I thought she’d found that in you, I was wrong. Dead wrong. The way she talked about you, how even though you did not go gentle with her she could see underneath all that leather and bullshit that you were a good man, a strong man, one that she could trust, I believed her assessment of you. I encouraged her to see where it led, if you could make her happy like she so desperately deserves. That was my mistake, and it’s one I intend to rectify immediately.”
Interrupting her I demand,
“What the fuck does that mean? You can’t take her. She’s carrying my baby, I won’t let her leave. You get that don’t you? I can’t let her leave.” Again I didn’t think first, I allowed the panic to overtake my rationale. That didn’t come out as I intended it to. What I meant was she can’t take my Angel. I need her. She’s the only thing standing in between me and that dark abyss that’s calling me. The one that will swallow me whole. The one that’s called to me most of my adult life. Adelyn is the only person that can keep me from losing myself, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone take her from me. Selfish, yes. But I’ve never claimed to be anything but.
Twirling the firearm in front of her twice, Emily picks it up holding it firmly in her grasp before depositing it back into her purse.
“Oh, I’m well aware of your demands and threats toward my daughter. I’ve been kept abreast of the developing hostilities in your bigoted little hick town. And before you run your mouth making an even more grave assumption, my daughter has not said one word, not one goddamned word about the vicious treatment she’s been treated to,” Emily yells pounding her fist on the table to punctuate her point. “You think you’re the only one that’s been keeping tabs on her? Surely you’re not that naive. Vengeance has a reach that Devil’s Spawn can only dream of having. Our people have people, and our informants have informants, and let me assure you there’s not a good God damned thing my boys wouldn’t do to see that young lady is safe, and that protection without a doubt extends to the child growing in her belly. Now you and I are faced with some conflicting issues to iron out. You want Adelyn here so that you can be involved in her child’s life.”
I go to stop her, because the baby I planted in my Angel is most definitely ours, not only Adelyn’s. That’s my goddamned child she’s carrying too, and I’ll be fucked if I let anyone say any different. Emily doesn’t give me a chance to correct her, she ploughs on regardless of my disdain of her phrasing.
“A father is one that’s actively involved in his child’s life, which includes the time it spends in its mothers’ womb. A father wants to be at every appointment, every test, and every ultrasound. He wants to feel his child move, feel it roll, kick its mother. A father wants to protect, cherish, adored, and support his child’s mother. Make sure she is taken care of, sheltered from the cruelties of the world. And a daddy wants to do nothing but shower love on the most important people in his life, something I was under the assumption you were well versed in if my daughter is to be believed. Let me ask you this, Max. How do you think your child will feel when he or she finds out you did all that, and more for their brother? That you were there for the obstetrician’s appointments, the blood tests, the child birth classes, to hold his mothers’ hand during delivery, and you weren’t for theirs. How will you explain that? Because in my eyes there’s no fucking way you can redeem your status as a father, however it’s not up to me. Lucky for you it’s Adelyn that will ultimately be responsible for the decision that will decide how much of a part you play in her child’s life.”
I feel like I’ve been sucker punched, but it’s not over yet, she’s not done. Karma has finally found me, and taken hold in a death grip delivered swiftly, and unmercifully by an unassuming middle aged brunette.
“And I will pray for you next, Max. I’ll pray that if you have a daughter you don’t get called one day to see her battered black and blue. That you don’t get asked to help peel the bloodied clothes from her body, tape her broken ribs, reset her nose and dislocated shoulder. I’ll pray that you don’t have to explain to her when she wakes up that a doctor, one she doesn’t know, one she’s never met, needed to put eighteen stitched into her rectum, and twelve into her vagina to repair the damage done by an animal. But I’ll pray hardest for your soul if you’re faced with holding your daughters hand when she’s told that the same animal that violated her for years made her pregnant, and the last beating he gave her caused her to miscarry. That when she sits still and stoic, you can contain your rage at hearing she may never have children, and if she does it could be dangerous because of the amount of damage that beast inflicted on her insides. I hope you will never know the pain as a parent you go through when your daughter calls you alone, frightened, and heartsick on finding out she’s finally getting what she prayed for if it wasn’t for the man responsible for putting her in that condition. What I wish for you the most though is that you will never have to feel the desolation come from your daughter when she explains it was all a misunderstanding, that all she’d intended to do in the end was to come home to visit her mother, clear her head for a week or so. That the second she saw the man she was falling in love with walk into her house she changed her mind, and wouldn’t have left if she’d been forced to by a heard of wild elephants.”
Jesus fucking Christ. My poor beautiful girl. I had no idea the extent of the horrors she faced. The brutality she’s overcome. And I threw that back in her face. All of it. I told her she used her tears, her past as an excuse to trap me, to take my kid from me. A way to run away. That she was using her tears as a weapon, as a tool to manipulate me.
My world abruptly stops spinning, and the abyss I thought I could stave off engulfs me, but not in the way I thought it would. It engulfs my consciousness wrapping it in sorrow and grief, but not for me, for Adelyn. My Angel. The most beautiful person I’ve ever known, inside and out. I sink my head into my hands, and let the tears keep coming. I haven’t cried in years, so long ago in fact that I can’t remember the last time I did.
Standing abruptly Emily walks toward the archway of the kitchen leading to the hallway, which will take her to the front door.
“Few things in this life are certain, Maxwell William Andrews, but there was one thing I would have assured you was more certain than anything else, that is before you fucked it all up of course. And that was that my girl would have loved you in a way that was unending. It would have lasted longer than you will walk this Earth. Adelyn has a capacity for love and forgiveness that I’ve never seen in another human being, and I don’t think I ever will. It’s what makes her so phenomenally special. It’s what makes her better than us laymen. It’s what will set her apart the day she dies, and send her straight for the stars where she belong. Where she will burn bright and long, eventually burning out as was her life in a shower of light and brilliance. She was your gift. And like every asshole before you, everyone that didn’t notice her brilliance for what it was, you’ve done yourself out of the most wonderful thing to ever happen to you.”
A few more steps, and one last glance over her shoulder shows me she isn’t unaffected by her own words, it hurts her almost as much as it’s destroying me to know that Adelyn’s happiness was compromised by my selfishness, and bitterness.
“If that baby has an ounce of her compassion, her ability to love, her brilliance, you Max are one lucky man. Because even though you broke your child’s mother down, broke her spirit, you’re being given that gift all over again. Try not to fuck it up this time. Make better choices. Step up and be the man, the father my daughter believes you are. If not for your child, do it for the woman you owe it to.” With th
at Emily swings her purse over her shoulder, and strides out my front door, slamming it closed with a finality that rattles more than the door frame.
I’m left with a sinking feeling, one that isn’t going away any time soon it’s so deeply embedded in my gut. If it ever does it’ll take a piece of me with it. It will undoubtedly rip apart what remains of my humanity if I can’t get it under control. It’s a feeling that will shatter the illusion of control I’m holding on to by a thread. A feeling that’s so all-encompassing I can’t see past it to what I have to do it fix this. And I know that’s what I have to do, what I need to do. I have to fix what I broke. I have to put her, my Angel, back together again.
Reaching blindly for my phone I open my contacts and push the button. When the person on the other end answers I beg. I put every ounce of desperation I feel into my words.
“Son, I need you.” I croak out. That’s all I’ve got the energy to say before I slide off my seat, and on to the cold unforgiving floor breaking apart at the seams in despair.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Adelyn
Kryptonite – 3 Doors Down
There are days you wake up and curse the sun. Days you want nothing more than to go back to sleep and pretend the day never even begun. I’m having a lot of those lately. It’s as if my body is refusing to cooperate with my need to get up and pee, put a pot of decaffeinated coffee on, which mind you I don’t blame it because that shit is akin to drinking pig swill, but whatever it’s best for the baby, so I try not to complain too much. But even with the promise of nasty coffee, and bladder relief my body doesn’t want to make them slightest of headway, and today is no different.
Captive: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel Page 10
