by Naomi West
“Come on, man,” I say.
He shakes his head.
What the fuck?
“I appreciate the effort,” he says.
“Lipstick’s gonna be waiting. We got it all worked out,” I say. “Come on. Let’s get you outta here so you can meet your baby in a couple months.”
“I’ll meet him,” he says. “It’ll just be a few days after he’s born. Hell, maybe even they’ll let me go to the hospital for the birth. I already talked to someone about it.”
“Man, you could be sitting on a beach drinking beer and taking care of your lady in less than twenty-four hours,” I say. “Let’s. Go.”
He shakes his head again. “I did this,” he says. “I was rash. I wasn’t thinking about the consequences. I need to do the right thing, here, serve the time. I’ve already talked to Lipstick about it. I want to do the right thing so we can start fresh and be a family when I get out. I even got a line of a real job. Things are going to change for us when I get out. I’m okay with this. Let it go. We’ll be raisin’ our kids together in no time.”
I can hear sirens in the not-too-far-off distance, which means the guy got a call off before we tied him up. Fuck.
“Go,” Rod says.
“Fuck, man,” I say. “I don’t wanna leave you here. Just come. We’ve got a plan.”
“Go,” he says again. “Before they get here.”
Too late. I see the lights flashing. At least two cars, maybe more, from the rear. One from the front. We’ll be surrounded in moments.
I push my fist out and he gives me a bump. I make the sign and the guys and I are on our bikes in a hot second. Satan is first out, two more guys behind him right quick. Jason can’t get his bike started, though. He looks at me and I can see the panic and desperation in his eyes.
“Get it started,” I growl. “Can’t leave it here.”
The first police vehicle screams to a stop. The cop is out, gun drawn. He tells us to drop our weapons, get on the ground. Jason gets his bike started and peels out. The last of our guys, hanging back for reinforcement, speeds off behind him. I give one last look at my friend and he nods. I peel out, but not before a shot rings out.
Sharp pain stabs at my calf muscle. I just keep going, speeding down the highway, veering off on a dark county road. I push the bike as fast as I can, ignoring the stabbing pain in my leg, waiting for the sounds of sirens to disappear, taking lefts and rights until I find myself totally alone, my guys long gone, hopefully escaped.
I make it to the rendezvous point, only to find out that Lipstick, too, resolutely refused to go with the guys who came to get her. The guys are a little bit pissed, but also kind of amused that Rod and Lipstick had the same feelings. Rod will do the time. It will all work out okay. They all head off to grab a beer but I head to Lipstick’s place.
She opens the door barefoot and wearing a smirk on her face. She’s in the jeans I gave her and she’s cut the neck out of a sweatshirt so it hangs off of one shoulder. Her hair is sleek and long. She’s a very pretty pregnant lady.
“You idiot,” she says as I step inside. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I didn’t want Rod to miss the first eighteen months of his son’s life,” I say.
“He won’t,” she says. We sit on the couch and I throw my head back, closing my eyes. I feel her take my hand. “I’ll take him every week. I’ll write it all down and record every moment. It’ll be okay. We’re going to be okay.”
“I never thought he would ever want to be a dad, have an old lady,” I say. “I’m really glad he’s found someone as cool as you.”
She leans in and lays her head on my chest. “I’m glad he’s got a best friend like you.”
“He says he wants to get a real job,” I say.
She snorts. “That’ll be the day.”
“What would he even do?” I ask.
“Beats me,” she says. “And I didn’t ask him to leave the club.”
“I know,” I say. I sigh. “What would I even do, if I wanted to leave?”
“You wouldn’t,” she says. “Rod would have your balls if you went anywhere else.”
“I wouldn’t go to another club,” I say. “I’m talking about going legit.”
“I don’t know,” she says. “What do you like?”
“I like kids,” I say. “I could be a teacher. Maybe Phys. Ed. or coaching or something?”
She nods. “That’d be cool. Scare the shit out of some kiddos with all those tattoos.”
I laugh. “They’d think I was cool.”
“I’m sure. And the moms would be drooling all over you.”
“But I’d tell them my heart belongs to …”
I stop myself before I can say her name.
“You should go to her,” Lipstick says. “Just tell her you want to give it a try.”
“What if she tells me to fuck off?” I ask. “What if she says I’m not good enough for her.”
“Well then she’s not the woman I think she is,” Lipstick says. “I didn’t tell you she came over here, did I?”
I sit up and open my eyes. “What?”
“Showed up right after that day at the doctor’s office. We talked for a long time. She’s a good egg, just didn’t know how to compartmentalize the whole motorcycle club side of things. She didn’t grow up in it like we did.”
“Well, you forget, I didn’t get into it until I was out of high school. I went to college for two years before I dropped out.”
“Right,” she says. “I did forget that. You could go back.”
“I could,” I say. “But I’ll wait until Rod comes back. Keep the train on the rails until he decides what he wants to do.”
“Good plan,” she says. “Now go get that girl.”
“I’d do that,” I say, “But it appears I’m bleeding all over myself. And your carpet. I’m sorry.”
“Holy shit, Axel!” Lipstick yells. “What the fuck? Are you shot?”
“It’s a scratch,” I dismiss. “But I should get out of here and clean it up.”
She fusses, wants me to stay, but I don’t want trouble for her, so I ruffle her hair and head out, wanting for everything to go to Millie, but heading toward headquarters instead.
I stop my bike several blocks from HQ, walking it so that the rumble of the machine doesn’t alert any local police that might be looking for us. This was too close. The cops will know that it was us; they’ll know we came for our guy, and they’ll be watching us even more closely now.
After dropping my bike in the garage, I limp up into the house. The other guys, as instructed, went straight home. The house is quiet as I push my pant leg up, thankful to find that the bullet must have only grazed me. It’s a surface wound that I clean up and bandage before pouring myself a double whiskey and crashing on the small cot I keep in my office.
As I lie there, I can’t help thinking about what Rod said. He’s ready to move on, ready to get a real job, be a real family man. I’d have never seen it coming in a million years and it makes me feel ashamed that I’ve been burying myself in drink and club business the past week, thinking that my life is only going to amount to this now that Millie is back with that fucker Phillip.
I should have been trying to do better, be better. I should have been fighting for her.
I drift off feeling that I sure as shit better get my act together so I can show up on her doorstep a better man than I have been today.
Chapter 15
Millie
So I’m driving along, headed home after an impromptu Sunday run for a chocolate milkshake, and who do I see, sitting alone on a park bench?
Axel, that’s who.
It’s been two weeks since I last saw him. Two weeks since he punched Phillip in his arrogant face. Two weeks since I thought it might be the last time I’d ever see him.
And he’s sitting in the park. It’s mid-November and he’s got a black pea coat on, and a scarf. He looks so … normal. There are a handful of kids o
ut playing, despite the chill in the air. He’s got a book in his lap but he’s obviously distracted from his reading by the children.
As I approach, I can see the wistful look on his face. And I realize this is the same park, the same intersection, where we first met. Well … where I nearly killed him, anyways.
He doesn’t see me at first, so I have a few moments to take in how beautiful a man he is. Honestly, his face takes my breath away. I feel so much just looking at him. What a gift it is that he just happens to be sitting here. That I just happened to be driving by. That I looked his way.
I suck in a quick, big breath and then let it out in a long, loud exhale. He looks over.
“Millie?” he asks.
“Hi, Axel,” I say.
“How did you …”
“I just happened to be driving by,” I say, holding up my milkshake cup. “I’m a bit of a chocolate milkshake addict these days.”
He smiles. “Milkshakes, huh?”
“And tacos. But not together. Well, sometimes together, but let’s not talk about that.”
“Lipstick’s obsessed with tuna sandwiches right now. Gross, right?” He chuckles. “Pregnancy, man. How are you?”
“I’m good,” I say. “I’m okay.”
“And Phillip?”
I give him a quizzical look. “What about Phillip?”
“Well, I just assumed …”
“We’re not together, Axel,” I say. “I haven’t seen him since the day you broke his nose.”
“I broke his nose?”
I nod. “And gave him a brain-busting concussion. As soon as he was coherent, I kicked him to the curb. He said some pretty abhorrent things. Showed his true colors. I was just … done.”
“I’m glad,” he says. “For breaking his nose and for you kicking him to the curb.”
“Me too,” I say.
He scoots to the side. “I’m an ass. Sit your pregnant booty down.”
I say, “Booty?”
“Trying to be less of a thug,” he says. “Starting with the language.”
“Is that why the J. Crew wear?” I ask, gesturing to his coat and scarf.
He grins. “A little, yeah. I’m thinking of going back to school. Thought I’d try out a less, uh, intimidating look.”
“School?” I ask. “For what?”
“Teaching,” he says. “Well, physical education.”
“That’s still teaching,” I say. “What made you decide on that?”
“Always liked kids. I like working out. Thought I’d make a go of something more legit. But it’ll take a while. And I’ve got the club to manage at least until Rod gets out of prison. Once he’s back, I’ll probably cut loose, just do rides for fun. I mean, I don’t know what Rod will want to do but we have to lay low now anyway, just to keep the cops off of our backs. Our leader really did a number on things. But … it might be a good thing.”
“Really?” I ask. “What will happen to the club in the meantime?”
“We’ll regroup,” he says with a shrug. “Many guys just got involved because they liked the machines. They like the ride, the parties. They don’t want to run product. They’ve got other jobs, lives, families …”
“And you’ll just walk away?” I ask
“From the business side, yeah,” he says. He takes a breath in and out through his nose. “Millie, I never meant to go down this path.”
“What path did you mean to go down?” I ask.
He seems to think about this for a minute. “My pops is a mean sonofabitch. He likes beer and football and fuckin’ women. That’s my dad. My momma was a drunk. Abusive. In and out, here and there. So I didn’t have the best role models. I played football in high school, got a little scholarship for college. Drank my way out of it, and out of school right around the time Hard Rod took over the Rippers. I was a mess. My pops was pissed I’d quit school. I just … jumped in. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to fight the world. It wasn’t where I started, but it provided a brotherhood, a safe space. I needed time to grow up.”
“You veered off course,” I say. “I get that. And I stayed on course too long. Stayed in a lackluster relationship because it was the safe thing to do.”
“Maybe we met in the middle,” he muses.
“Yeah,” I say. “Maybe we did.”
“The last time, things got … violent. The day I came over to your place all bloody …”
“An interesting day in my life calendar, for sure,” I say with a little chuckle.
“I hated every second of it. It was part of our code. He betrayed his oath to the club, betrayed our values for personal gain. But I hated what I did to him. I hated it. For the first time, I wanted out.”
“I don’t … I don’t want you to have to change for me.”
“I’m not doing it for you,” he says. His features soften. “I mean, I want to be a good father, a good partner if you’ll have me but I’m ready. I still love the bikes. I still love the ride and the guys. The rest, though? I don’t want it anymore.”
We sit with that for a long time, just watching the kids play. I find myself really looking forward to the day I can sit and watch my children play. Plural. I want more. I want it with this man. I know that now.
“So what are you doing out here?” I finally ask.
“I, uh … you’ll think I’m a weirdo.”
“I already think you’re a weirdo,” I say with a grin.
“Well … I come here sometimes. I just … like watching the kids. I bring a book and read but I always get distracted. The way they laugh. The way they run to their parents when something cool happens, or when they’re hurt.”
“You really do like kids,” I say. “That’s not weird.”
“It’s weird an unmarried dude with no kids is coming to the park to stare at other people’s kids,” he says.
“Well, when you say it like that …”
“I’ve always wanted to be a father,” he says. “Always wanted to be a better parent than mine were.”
I reach out and put my hand on his strong thigh. “Well, here’s your chance.”
“Is our baby … healthy?” he asks.
“It is,” I say.
“And you don’t know if it’s a boy or girl?”
I shake my head. “I have it in an envelope from that day at the doctor’s office. But I didn’t … I didn’t think it was right to find out … without you. And I didn’t want Phillip to know before you did.”
He puts his arm around me, pulls me close. I put my head on his broad chest.
“I told my parents about you,” I say.
“Really? I can’t even imagine what you said,” he says.
“Well, they want to meet you,” I say.
“Your dad will probably shoot me,” he says.
“Only if you hurt me,” I say.
He’s quiet for a long time. “I don’t want to hurt you, Millie,” he says. “I want to make you happy.”
A lump forms in my throat. I try to swallow it back, but the tears come anyway. I let out a soft sob. “Stupid hormones,” I say as I sniffle.
I look up and he’s smiling so softly. “You’re so beautiful, Millie. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I think I’m in love with you.”
This just brings a whole new round of ugly crying. Like, I’m sure I’m all splotchy and crazy looking as I bury my head in his scarf, crying like a baby.
“Are you crying because you’re happy, or because I’m too late?” he asks.
“Happy,” I say, my voice muffled by layers of fabric.
He pulls me onto his lap and puts his lips on mine. At first it’s soft, searching. We spend a moment getting to know each other again. But then it deepens, his tongue tracing my bottom lip, my mouth opening to him.
He pulls away too quickly, his cheeks high with color.
“Are you … blushing?” I ask.
This makes his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red. “There are kids here,” he says. “Can I fol
low you home?”
***
Axel
I follow Millie into her little house and it feels like home.
She pulls off her jacket and … damn. Just. Damn.
Millie’s in a sweet little black sweater and jeans and her baby bump is popping. She’s so beautiful it makes me want to fall to my knees. I manage to stay on my feet as I step forward, putting my hands out, touching her stomach reverently.
