by GM Scherbert
As I step away from the bar later that evening, I try to get Ember on the phone, which I haven’t been able to do for a few days. It is almost midnight; she should have gotten home from her shift at the bar a little while ago. That is if she ended up going to work today. I am sure that she did, because she is too stubborn to call in even if she is not feeling well, which I know she hasn’t in the week or so that I have been gone. That is one thing that needs to change after I put my ink on her and claim her as mine. She will need to do better at respecting my wishes and doing what is best for her, that is for sure.
As the phone held at my ear rings, my mind wanders. It wanders to one of its favorite thoughts as of late, Ember growing fat with my children. Something that I thought I would never want, but a thought that has come to me more than once in recent months. As soon as I claim her, she and I will need to have a serious talk about the future and my need to see her fat with my babies inside of her.
Shaking myself out of those thoughts I am drawn back to reality when her voicemail picks up and I leave a quick message before hanging up, thinking that she might have gone to bed because she is not feeling well. I walk back towards the brothers, knowing that I will see her tomorrow, and that all will be well in the world the instant I sink into her again.
Walking back to Blaze and Gun I notice that they have lost no time finding some company for the evening. Knowing that is not an option for me, I let them know that I am going to head out, after quickly finishing another beer. Leaving the Knights’ Clubhouse and heading back to the crash pad at the Devil’s Iron Clubhouse, my thoughts again wander to my woman.
~Chapter Twelve~
~Ember
Making my way from my apartment, I only stop long enough to grab a few necessities, the box of cash that we have been saving, a picture of Vincent and I, and the keys to the car. Stopping by Sara’s on my way out of Chicago, I find out from Irene, the old lady next door, that she had been taken to the hospital earlier in the week and was in serious condition, but was expected to make it. Irene tried to get me to come over and talk for a while, but I just kept my head down and got out of there with as little interaction with her as possible. I left Sara a note saying that I was taking off and would reach out to her when I thought it would be safe, then took off without looking back.
Ditching my car after making it out of Chicago was my first conscious thought as I began my escape. I was able to make a deal with a little old lady, who had lived through more than her fair share of trouble, once I had made my way out of Illinois. She was so sweet and must have sensed that I was in a terrible way, so she offered to swap cars with me and promised to make mine disappear. Saying something about a grandson that worked at a local salvage yard.
Continuing to make my way South, I thought the best option for me would be going to New Orleans. Somewhere far enough away and big enough that I could get lost in the crowd. Somewhere that I would be able to find work and some kind of support for the baby who was bound to make its appearance within the next seven to eight months. Somewhere that didn’t make me think of home and the man I wish I could be with.
The first months of that year being pregnant and alone were definitely the roughest for me. Every night in those first few months after I escaped from Clutch, I would cry myself to sleep knowing that Vincent was out there wondering what happen to me. Living his life without me in Chicago, not knowing about the baby or what happened to cause me to leave, because I am sure as fuck Clutch was not lining up to tell him what he had done to me.
After about two weeks in New Orleans living out of the back of my car, I was able to find work. Cleaning up a bar for cash so there was no trace of me, and that is exactly the way it stayed. As I worked my way up to bartender, within two months, I was able to make more money and even form some friendships with a few of the other girls. I keep to myself about my past, but most of the girls knew that there were definitely demons in my closet.
Heather and I were probably the closest in age, and she showed me nothing but compassion and concern as soon as we met. After my first few days, she quickly picked up on the fact that I didn’t have anywhere to stay, and offered me her couch. I accepted without hesitation, knowing that pregnant or not, I was not safe staying in my car.
Heather lives in a one-bedroom apartment with her daughter Sofia. I help out as much as I can when she needs someone to watch Sofia, we have even started to take opposite shifts so that someone is always around, because once my little man comes, we will be saving lots of money on babysitters not working the same shifts.
Heather helped point me in the direction of lots of services that I needed for the baby and never even knew existed. Helping to get me into see a doctor that would accept cash, not ask too many questions, and most importantly, be there throughout the pregnancy and birth of my little man.
Finding out that I was having a little boy drove me on. Wondering how much he would look like his father. Wondering how much he would be like his father as he grew. Wondering if he would ever get to meet the man that I had promised my forever to. Vincent is probably so mad, that if we were ever in the same room again, I have no idea what he would do or what might happen.
That wouldn’t be an issue, however, because I will never see him again of that I am certain. I will not put him in danger like I did with Sara.
The thought comes to me quickly is that I will name my son after his father, and is forever solidified when I see him for the first time. Little Vincent comes into this world screaming, crying, hollering, and the spitting image of his father. Dark brown eyes and hair and slightly olive skin.
Why do I need to be reminded even more, every day, of the man that I lost, the man that I left, the man that I love?
The man who would set the world on fire if he ever found out the truth.
~Chapter Thirteen~
~Doc
Coming back from the run with Blaze and Gun, I have thought of nothing except getting back to her. She hadn’t answered her phone when I had tried calling during the past sixty or so hours, but maybe she decided to take it easy and do what I told her.
I fucking doubt that though.
As we drive through Illinois making good time, it is nearing nightfall as we coast into Chicago. We all stop at the Clubhouse to get our visitors situated and I again try to reach out to Ember, with no luck. Now, I am starting to get pissed.
Finding Blaze, I let him know that I am heading out and will be back for the party with a guest. He knows that I am bringing someone and that I will be claiming her before the brothers, and he is more than intrigued to see this woman who has stopped me dead in my tracks.
Heading over to her apartment, I get there and notice her car is not in its spot. I park in the drive and pull out my key to let myself in. As I enter the apartment the first thing I notice is that the place has been fucking ransacked. There is shit everywhere, and it looks like a warzone.
Panic sets in as I start searching from room to room and notice that there is not much missing, just that the whole place is fucking destroyed.
The only things that are missing are: the box of cash that we have been saving, a picture of Ember and I is missing from the wall, and the keys to her car are gone.
Fuck Me.
She’s gone.
What the fuck has happened since I left ten days ago and why the fuck did she leave? I know that she was a little put off by the way I told her what to do when she said she didn’t feel good, but that is no fucking reason for her to run.
As I continue to walk around the apartment I come across some papers thrown out onto the floor. Bending down I grab some of them up and notice that one of them has an address for Sara. The friend that she had stayed with briefly after she left her shit of an ex.
I shove that paper into my pocket and head out to the door to see if Sara knows anything about what the fuck happened to Ember, or where the fuck she went.
Driving the short distance to Sara’s house, I am taken aback by the fact th
at Ember just walked out on us, no, me. What the fuck was she thinking? I made a vow to her and there is no way in fucking hell that I would go back on it, she had better feel the same.
Double checking the address as I pull up outside a nice brownstone, I cut the engine and head towards the door. Before I am able to reach the door, I hear a voice coming from a neighboring house.
“Sara’s not there, young man, she got taken to the hospital early the other morning, such a sad story, too. Then that nice young girl, who use to live there, came to visit as well, Sara hasn’t had this many visitors as long as I can remember.” I hear in a gravelly voice coming off of the porch of the next house over.
Looking in that direction, I find an old woman sitting on her porch swing.
“Oh, really. What happened to her?” I get out as I make my way to the edge of the porch.
“Come sit with an old lady and I will tell you everything that I heard and saw.”
Making my way across the lawn and up the stairs, I see that this little old lady has to be pushing eighty-five or ninety. As I go to sit down, she shoves a beer towards me and I accept gladly, noticing that there is already quite a pile of empties on the table between us.
As I look towards the lady, she cuts me off before I am able to ask her name.
“My name doesn’t matter, sonny, and really, neither does yours. You are nothing like the man that was here for Sara, I know that much just by looking at you, and the way your heart dropped when I mentioned Ember.”
For being such an old bird, she sure as fuck is perceptive.
“You got me there, Ma’am. What man was here for Sara and what the fuck happened here?”
“Another man, dressed similar to you, came by a couple days ago and was in there for a day or so. I thought it was odd because Sara just doesn’t have visitors like that, especially male visitors, that stay the night.” Taking a sip off her beer, she goes on, “There was a little noise throughout the time that he was there, but nothing that I thought two young people shouldn’t be making if they were getting amorous. You know.”
Handing me another beer and cracking another one open for herself, she goes on, “That is until the last little while. That is when I knew that something was definitely wrong, not the young lovers that I had previously thought. The screams that I heard during that time were not the ones that should have been going on with a man friend over. I called the police, but they didn’t respond, and by the time the man left and I headed over there,” taking another swig from her beer, “it was almost too late.”
“What do you mean, almost too late?”
“When I found Sara she was beaten up pretty badly, and they didn’t know if she was going to make it. I haven’t been able to get much more of an update, but that guy sure did a number on her.”
Finishing the last of my beer I am about to get up and go, when she adds, “I just wonder if it is the same man that got a hold of Ember, because she was looking banged up as well when she stopped by earlier today.” Sitting back down quickly, I look to the old lady. She knows in an instant who my heart belongs to.
“That look on your face tells me everything that I need to know, young man. You have a soft spot for her, and you will do what you can to right the wrongs that have been done to these girls, I am sure of it.”
“Tell me about Ember. What did she say? Where did she go? Did she look hurt?” I ask impatiently.
“I didn’t really get the chance to speak with her. She came up to the house, went inside for about two minutes, then took off like a bat out of hell. I let her know that Sara had been taken to the hospital, but she was in no mood to talk. When she came out of the house and I got a look at the girl, she was bruised up and looking like she was hurting something fierce. She seemed to have some problems walking, and also her hair was draped over her face trying to cover up the bruising. She seemed to be in a hurry and didn’t even answer when I tried to call out to her. She seemed like she was just focused on getting the hell outta here. She just looked plain scared to death.”
As I rise, she adds “I am sorry that I can’t tell you more about the man that was here, but I can tell you that the spare key to Sara’s place is under her flower pot, if you’d like to take a quick look around.”
Nodding my head at her and grumbling a thank you, I head next door to look through the house. Finding the same scene that was laid out before me at our apartment, I look through the rest of the house quickly. The only thing of interest to me is a scribbled note from Ember that says she is sorry for bringing Sara into this, that she is in the wind to keep everyone safe, and that she will reach out when everything has calmed down.
My heart drops as I think about Ember, my Ember, leaving to keep us safe. She should know that I will do whatever is in my power to keep her safe. Then I think back to the conversations that we have had about just that.
Fuck.
I didn’t keep her safe, she must be questioning if I would even be able to, seeing that whatever happened to her, obviously happened under my watch.
Fuck, where is she?
~Chapter Fourteen~
~Ember
A few weeks after little Vincent was born I was able to convince Sara to come and meet her godson. The weeks since I have left have been troublesome for both of us. She has told me about Doc’s repeated attempts to get any information out of her about my whereabouts. Even going so far as having Gun and another member of the MC taking turns keeping an eye on her.
Sara plans her escape well for her two-week visit, and is able to get down to New Orleans with no problem and no tail. While she is here, she tells me of Vincent’s growing darkness and how most times when she sees him, he is bruised and battered in some form or another. She says that she has tried talking to both Doc and Gun about this, but Doc refuses to speak about it and Gun just says it is the way that he is dealing, to leave him be about it.
Sara’s visit is just what I needed and helps me to remember why I needed to leave and stay gone. The people that I care about were in trouble, and could have gotten injured even worse than she or I did. Sara and Heather get along great and we make plans for Sara to move down to New Orleans in another few months, we will find a bigger apartment and all share the bills, babies, and struggles. It will be great to have my friend here with me.
After I struggle to get through that first year, the time flies by as the years pass. Watching Vincent grow and become a little person is something that I will always look back on fondly. He is the spitting image of his father, as he is the spitting image in his care, concern, and short fuse for things being his way, just like his father.
Sara ended up moving to New Orleans right around Little Vincent’s first birthday. She seems to be struggling with something and it troubles me that she won’t talk to me about it. I am wondering by the way that she is acting, if there might have been someone that she left to come down here. She is behaving exactly how I behaved those first weeks after I left Vincent.
Sara hasn’t spoken about anyone except the men that were in charge of watching over her for the past 15 months, and sure as fuck, has not made it sound like any of them were someone that she was seeing. I know that I should not prod her, but am saddened by the fact that I cannot seem to help her get out of this blue period and funk that she appears to be going through.
The only glimpse that I get into Sara’s funk is one night shortly after her moving here when we busted out some wine and got tipsy. Sharing stories and getting drunk has a way of bringing out the details that you would like to have stayed hidden. Sara lets on that not only had she been seeing someone while she was in Chicago before moving, but that it was Gun. She is trying her best to deal with the way she had to leave it with him, but she says that coming here to be with me and Little Vincent was the way that she needed her life to play out.
As more wine gets consumed, she lets me know that they had been “together” for going on six months when she left, and that was only after she fought tooth and nail ag
ainst the feelings that she had for him. Sara said that she had slipped up a few times before they actually got together, and she always went back to her stance the next day. She said that when they would wake up the next morning, Gun would argue with her until she would say something that would really piss him off and he would storm off. Weeks later the same cycle of behavior would happen, on and on until they actually gave in to their desires.
Being with a biker was not something that Sara could see herself doing, and one of the major issues that she had against them getting together. Especially having a biker be there for you in the long run, that is why she decided that coming to New Orleans was the best move for her. I try to talk with her about how any man can be the right man as long as you love each other. With that she starts crying and I know that I have hit a tender nerve. She agrees and asks that we drop it, not wanting to think any more about the man she left in Chicago.
Finishing up the degree that I started after getting to New Orleans is another big accomplishment to my growing self-determination and independence. The doctor that Heather put me in contact with was able to set me up with an attorney who was able to help me get credentials and change or hide my “on the book” behaviors like: starting schooling, being able to start getting paid on the books to help with funding for schooling, and eventually finding good pre-K schooling for Little Vincent.
Vincent is never, and has never, been far from my thoughts. The promises that we made to each other have not changed in my mind so, I have not dated anyone in the time that I have been here. I have not even gone out, but two or three times in all these years. Heather had really been trying to push me to start dating or even just get out there and enjoy being an adult, which happened a few months back when I turned twenty-one. Three fucking years I have been gone, and feels like it was yesterday that I was laying in Vincent’s arms in our bed.
The most I have given into both Heather and Sara’s constant harassing of me to get a life, is venturing to a club that they have both become regulars at. It is a BDSM club here in New Orleans, and although I didn’t think that I would enjoy it at all, the more I see, the more I like it, and the more I can see myself doing some of the things that I have seen. Especially being under the control of a dominant. Being told what to do, when to do it, and having all thoughts taken away from me to reach sub-space would be a welcome change from the constant questioning I do of myself, and the choices that I have made to get myself to where I am today.
