WRECKED: The Beasts MC

by April Lust

  Finally, she’d grown brave one day and taken the little girl to her parents’ house. She’d told them everything, and then her husband had shown up at the door, charming and apologetic. She didn’t want to go home with him, but her mother insisted. I remembered exactly what the woman had said: “It’s always better to try to fix a marriage then give a child a broken home. No child deserves that.” So she’d gone home with him. And then he’d killed her.

  The documentary had been all about the little girl, and how she’d grown up in the foster care system because her father was in jail and her mother was dead. Back when I’d seen it, I’d vowed I’d never let things get that bad with Jack. That was before things had been bad all the time, before I constantly had a fat lip and a black eye. But now I knew if Jack caught me, if something bad happened, that documentary would become my life. My child would probably grow up with Jack while I either rotted six feet under or in some prison for wayward women.

  I shivered. The horn blared again – a shrill, horrifying sound that cut through the air. It was a single note that had always irritated me, but never struck fear into me the way it did now. As it sounded over and over, I knew that the sound would always haunt me.

  A splitting pain ratcheted through my body and I cried out, wrapping my fingers tightly around the wheel and clutching as hard as I could. Tears had welled up in my eyes by the time the cramp faded, and my chest hurt for want of air. I’d never experienced a pain like that – it was so sharp that it had knocked the breath right out of me. I blinked and stared down at the road as a new sense of panic began to take hold of my body. Behind the rig, Jack’s car swerved and swirled around on the road. He began to creep up on the right side of the truck and I cried out and leaned down on the horn, letting the rig swing towards the right. I gritted my teeth and kept turning the wheel until Jack was almost off the road. Dust was clouding the air as Jack’s tires churned the earth to the side of the highway. I coughed and blinked and finally, the rig shot forward and Jack’s car spun around and was left in the dust.

  A feeling of hope came over me. The hospital was in the distance – all I had to was get there before Jack and somehow explain everything that had happened. The small cloud of hope vanished when I saw Jack’s car reappear on the road behind me. There’s no way you’re going to get there first, I thought sadly as I pressed on. He’s going to get there at the same time, and before you know it, you’ll be heading back to Carlsbad in a coffin.

  I felt utterly defeated. Oddly enough, I wasn’t even saddest for myself. The most painful feeling swirling through me, the most acute sense of distress, was all coming from fear for my baby. I felt like I’d completely failed my child, and I wasn’t even technically a mother yet. I’d failed them by not managing to keep them away from Jack, their rightful father and the biggest asshole to walk the earth since Judas.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, resting a hand on my belly. I’d had to slow the rig to enter the highway, and now I was speeding up as I attempted to merge. A few cars back, Jack’s car darted in and out of traffic, staying right on my heels as I fell in with the other traffic on the highway. The sound of a horn startled me – I looked down to the side to see Jack’s car slowly inching up on the left. Gritting my teeth, I swung the rig out of the lane. Jack yelled something angrily through the windshield of the car as his driver slammed on the brakes and the car fell behind.

  The exit for the hospital was just to the side. With a quick, silent prayer, I swung the rig across the lanes of the highway and sped up on the exit ramp. I wasn’t even looking behind me for Jack’s car as the rig pulled up the hospital drive. I kept going past the regular entrance and slowed the brakes, coasting into the emergency lane that was reserved for ambulances.

  Immediately, orderlies and attendants were swarming the truck. I didn’t even heed the looks of anger on their faces as I opened the door and slid out to the pavement. I couldn’t stop the grin that was spreading across my face, either. I finally did it, I thought distantly as two nurses in blue scrubs rushed towards me, pushing a gurney between them.

  I didn’t even have a chance to get a word in before the nurses grabbed me by the shoulders and hoisted me up onto the gurney. I cried out as the sheet fell from around my body but one of them was ready and waiting with a hospital gown that she shoved on my outstretched arms. Cool air tickled my backside as the nurses pushed me down onto the gurney and began wheeling me inside.

  “How many weeks along are you?”

  “Twenty-eight,” I managed to croak. Now we were inside and the bright lights on the hospital ceiling were enough to make my eyes sting and water all over again. “Wait, there were two men in that truck! They need help, please! Please go back and help them!”

  “Ma’am, I need you to stay calm,” one of the nurses snapped at me. “I’m sure they’ll be helped; the truck will be checked.”

  “No!” I cried out and tried to sit up on the moving gurney to look behind me. I needed to know Charlie was taken care of before I could relax. “No, I need you to make sure!”

  “Ma’am, please!” The nurse glared down at me. “Please, I need you to stop twisting around!” She wrapped muscular fingers around my upper arm and held me firmly in place as the gurney rounded a sharp corner.

  I was beginning to feel dizzy from the speed and the insanely bright lights ahead. “Please,” I sobbed. My throat ached and tears splashed down my face. “Please, please go back and help him!”

  The other nurse looked down at me. She wore a kinder expression and had soft blue eyes that turned up at the corners. “Everything’s going to be okay,” she said sweetly, reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder. “I promise your friend will be just fine. Were you in a crash?”

  I nodded, suddenly unable to find the words to respond. “I was driving the truck,” I said faintly. The bright lights above me on the ceiling seemed to get brighter and hotter by the second as the nurses pushed me down another unfamiliar corridor. The walls of the hospital were painted beige and putrid green and I wanted to close my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at them anymore.

  I blinked and realized that I was in the middle of a room, next to a hospital bed on a large, plastic frame. There were photographs of babies and stuffed animals on the walls, and I knew they must have taken me to the maternity ward.

  As the nurses hoisted me up off the gurney and onto the bed, the open hospital gown flapped open and I blushed bright red.

  “Don’t worry,” the nicer-looking nurse said. She smiled. Her nametag read ‘Hannah.’ “We’ve seen everything around here.”

  The bitchy nurse rolled her eyes. “Look how many tattoos she has,” she remarked to Hannah, like I wasn’t even there. “I doubt she’s really embarrassed about anything.”

  “That’s unkind,” Hannah said softly. She glanced down at me. “You’re really bruised up, sweetheart,” she said in a sing-song voice as she snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and began to prod at my belly through the thin material of the hospital gown. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  My mouth was dry and my head ached. Suddenly, I was exhausted – I felt like I could close my eyes and sleep for a million years. The adrenaline must be wearing off, I thought as Hannah began to feel for a vein in my arm. No wonder I feel like this. I feel like I could be dead, except I’m still in pain.

  “I was in a crash,” I managed to croak. The other nurse, Miranda, grabbed a clipboard from the table and began making little marks with her pen as I talked. “I was in a semi-truck, and we hit a smaller truck. The truck ran right into us.”

  Miranda nodded briskly. “Were you hitch-hiking?” She frowned and tutted, sucking her teeth before I could reply. I suddenly hated her. Her dishwater blonde hair and dull grey eyes reminded me of Jack’s sarcastic glances. “That’s not good for you, you know.”

  “No,” I said. “Well, um,” I paused and lifted a hand up to my head, covering my eyes. “I wasn’t. No.”

  “She’s obviously delirious,” Mirand
a snapped. She reached over and shoved Hannah’s arm away from my arm. “And you’re fucking up that IV. Jesus! You wanna give her a bruise the size of Texas? Let me do that.” I watched blearily as Miranda pushed Hannah away, then grabbed a needle and slipped it into my arm. It hurt more than it should have – I cried out and Miranda glared at me.

  “It’ll be okay,” Hannah said soothingly. “Just keep talking. We need to keep you conscious if you have a concussion. Does your head hurt?”

  “I’m so tired,” I mumbled. “So exhausted.” Thoughts were swimming around in my head and I felt a small trace of panic trying to shove through my anxiety. I knew if I didn’t tell Miranda and Hannah exactly what happened – about Charlie and Jack and all of it – that something horrible would happen. Jack could storm into the hospital and drag me home without my consent. I might close my eyes and wake up in a trunk, tied up somewhere and unable to move.

  “Keep her awake!” Miranda barked. She pulled over an IV bag and hooked me up to it. “Do you have any medical allergies?” Her grey eyes flashed with irritation.

  I felt like bursting into tears. I shook my head. “No,” I said softly. “I don’t.”

  “What’s your name, dear?”

  “Nicolette,” I mumbled as Hannah swooped in and pulled a thin blanket over my hips. “Nicolette McDonald.”

  Hannah made some notes on a clipboard. She lowered herself into a plastic chair at the side of the bed. “So you were in a car crash? Can you tell me the names of the drivers?”

  Pain shot through my body and I cried out, clutching my belly. My eyes screwed tightly shut and I whimpered as the searing hot cramp gripped me mercilessly. It lasted longer this time. When it was done, I sucked in greedy mouthfuls of air, my chest aching.

  “How long have you been having contractions?” Hannah asked urgently. “Nicolette, you need to be honest with me – how long has this been going on?”

  “Not long,” I said softly. It hurt to speak, and my body was exhausted. “About an hour or two, maybe three.”

  Hannah and Miranda exchanged looks. “Nicolette, I think you’re going into labor,” Hannah said. “I’ll get the obstetrician on call – Dr. Collins. He’s very good,” she added. “You’ll like him a lot.”

  I moaned loudly. “No,” I said. “I can’t be going into labor! You don’t understand! I have to—”

  “Hush now,” Hannah said. She reached down and patted my hand with her own. “Nicolette, everything’s going to be fine. I want you to take a deep breath for me. Can you do that?”

  I sucked in a big gulp of air. It tasted stale and medicinal, like the hospital itself.

  “She has a massive head wound,” Hannah said. She gently pulled my brown hair to the side. “Look at the contusion there. She must have hit herself in the crash.”

  “Well, we can’t exactly give her pain meds right now,” Miranda snapped. “Not if she’s gonna have this baby today.”

  “Check her dilation,” Hannah said. The next thing I knew, Miranda was kneeling between my legs and pushing my knees apart. There was something cold and hard inside of me, and I cried out with humiliation.

  “She’s only five centimeters,” Miranda called back. “She’s not quite ready yet.”

  Hannah smiled down at me. “That’s good,” she said. “See, you’re halfway there! You’re making good time.” She beamed. “This is always so exciting.”

  “Charlie is the father,” I croaked. My eyes rolled back in my head as another sharp contraction took hold in my gut. “It’s Charlie, not Jack!”

  “Confused, is she?” Miranda smirked. “Seems like someone was sleeping around a few months ago!”

  “Shut up,” Hannah hissed. “Dear, just try to relax, okay. Just try to get some rest. You’re in some bad pain because of your injury, but we can’t give you anything too strong until after the baby is born.”

  “What about an epidural?” I looked into her eyes, silently begging for her to help me. “Can’t I have an epidural? Please?”

  Hannah’s smile faltered. “Your contractions aren’t quite regular yet,” she said sweetly. “And the thing is, an epidural might slow those down. You’re already halfway there,” she said. “This might be a really easy birth. Do you want to try on your own?”

  A seize of pain gripped me between the legs and I howled, throwing my head back against the hospital mattress. Wet strands of brown hair lashed against my cheek and I struggled against the pain, gritting my teeth and fighting it with all my might. For a brief moment, I wondered when my hair had gotten wet. Then I twisted again and the sharp, pungent smell of sweat filled my nostrils. “Please,” I begged, gritting my teeth. “Please, it hurts so badly. Please!”

  A male doctor rushed in with a serious expression on his face. He wore rimless glasses and a bright white coat over his blue scrubs. Miranda rushed over to him and handed him the clipboard as he walked to the side of my bed.

  “Looks like we’re not quite ready to go yet,” he said after taking a look between my legs. I struggled against another sharp contraction after the doctor straightened up. “But if you want a late epidural, I’ll have Hannah give you one.”

  Relief exploded in my body. “Please,” I begged. “Please, I have to stay awake. I can’t go to sleep. But the pain…” I trailed off, sucking in my breath as a sharp cramp stretched across my belly. I felt myself tensing up, the muscles in my body clenching as I tried to fight off the pain. Go away, pain, I prayed. Please, please just stop! I have to tell them about Charlie, about the father of my baby! Please!

  “Stop fighting,” Hannah said. She reached down to pat me on the shoulder and eased me up off the mattress until I was sitting. “You’re going to want to try to breathe through the pain,” she said. “I promise, it’s not that bad. Just breathe deeply and don’t clench up. You’re just making it worse for yourself if you do that.”

  I barely even felt the small needle slide into the base of my spine. As the medicine began to pump through my body, I was aware of an odd numbness from the waist down. When I realized that I couldn’t move my legs, I screamed in terror. “I’m paralyzed! Help! Help!”

  Miranda snickered. She rolled her eyes, then walked out of the room, leaving me with Hannah. Hannah rushed to my side and handed me a cup of water.

  “You’re just fine,” she said sweetly. “That’s the epidural working. Just relax now, can do you that for me, Nicolette?”

  I nodded blearily. “Charlie is the father,” I said, suddenly remembering what I had wanted to tell the nurse. “He’s the father. Don’t let…Don’t let that other man come in here. He’s bad, Hannah!” I gripped her hand and squeezed her fingers until her face showed a clench of pain. “Hannah, please don’t let that man hurt my baby!”

  Hannah laughed nervously. She pulled her hand away from mine. “I’m going to let you rest now,” she said. “If you can get some sleep, try to do so, okay?”

  “No!” I cried out. “Please, please don’t go! Please wait with me!”

  Hannah crossed her arms and sighed. “You poor thing,” she said. “Is there someone I can call? That man…Charlie? Should I call him?”

  “He was in the truck with me,” I said quickly. “I was trying to tell you, when you first pulled me into the room! He was right there! He’s hurt!”

  Hannah nodded. “I’ll try to look up his condition. Would you like me to do that?”

  Relief washed over me in a cool wave and I nodded. “Oh, please! That would be wonderful, thank you!”

  As Hannah bustled out of the room, I sank back against the pillows. My head was still swimming but the pain had disappeared, at least from my lower body. I felt stiff and sore, but the cramps had finally disappeared. I was even starting to get used to the numb feeling of the epidural; it was strange, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. At least it was better than the pain.

  I tried not to panic as I waited for the kind nurse to return. When I was alone, I realized it was the first time I’d been without someone by my side si
nce the trucker picked me up. I felt a pang of guilt when I thought of the way he’d been slumped over the wheel, bleeding slightly from a wound to the head. I hoped I hadn’t done too much damage to his truck. I hoped that maybe, somehow, I’d get the chance to apologize after this mess was over.

  My eyelids began to droop and my body felt strangely heavy. Oddly, I was still feeling pressure in my belly, but it was real pressure this time, not the pain I’d felt before. I shifted uncomfortably in the bed, feeling somewhat dwarfed by the high plastic rails on each side. It was almost like being in a crib.

  Outside of the room, people walked back and forth. Snippets of their conversation would float into the room and I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate, trying to figure out whether anyone was talking about Charlie. Unfortunately, the nurses weren’t using names, and very little of the words that came back to me made any sense.

  “Please be okay,” I whispered softly as I rolled onto my side. Hannah and Miranda had hooked me up to a variety of machines, including one that was monitoring my heart rate. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like it was going awfully fast. Worrying about the baby coming early was enough to make me sick. But I knew that as soon as I’d find out what had happened to Charlie, I’d probably be able to relax — assuming the news was good.