Instead, I enter the clubhouse and order the prospect to hand me a bottle of whisky and a glass. Then I sit all alone and drink. Lost in my thoughts, wondering where it all went wrong, I lose all sense of time. The whisky which should be numbing does nothing to turn off my brain. My main worries veer between was it my fault? And what am I going to tell Sam?
“It’s done.” Wizard plops down in the seat opposite me. “He’s alive if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“He bad?”
He shoots me a ‘what do you think’ look, and nods. “Not many punches were pulled.” Picking up the bottle of whisky, he takes a long swig. I don’t bother to point out neglecting to use a glass is unhygienic.
When he puts the bottle down, he gives me a look of understanding. “This isn’t on you, Drummer. It’s all on him. He’s a man. He’s responsible for his decisions.”
But is it? How the fuck hadn’t I read the signs? How has it come to this?
Chapter Five
Eli…
I come to and immediately wish they’d killed me. Every single part of me hurts. Hurts? Fucking understatement, screams in agony more like.
For the moment it’s all I can do to try to breathe. Every breath sends pain shooting through me from ribs that are clearly broken. That was Hound, I think. I try to catalogue what my injuries might be.
My own dad had gotten me in the stomach first. Then Peg had gone for my jaw, but though I’ve probably got whiplash, I don’t think he broke it. Rock had kicked my legs out from under me. Fuck, my hand. I can’t move my fingers on my left hand. Are they broken? Did someone stomp on it? If so, was it accidental when I was prone, or deliberate?
Marvel had got me from behind. If I’m not pissing blood for a week, it would surprise me.
There’s a deep, sickening ache in my groin. Thank fuck I was out of it when that was done. Someone must have kicked me in my junk.
Pain. Physical pain. I welcome it, relish it. It’s no more than I deserve.
“I think he’s coming around.” I hear a female voice. Is that Amy?
“Are you sure he’s going to be alright?” The anxious voice is that of my wife. Fuck. I don’t want her to worry. Could it hurt the baby?
“He’ll be in pain for a while, but he’ll be fine,” Amy reassures her. “Just keep your eye on him. He’s got some broken ribs, and I’m just a bit worried about his kidneys. You’ll have to take him to the hospital if the blood doesn’t ease.”
“What about the stitches in his face? Will they have to come out?”
I hear a female sigh. “Yeah, they will. Look, I’ll check if Wizard’s okay with me making a house call.”
Why will she have to check? Oh. I’m no longer a member of the club. Of course I can’t expect to be treated by the prez’s old lady. And where will we even fucking be?
I hadn’t thought that far ahead, just knew I had to get out. But I expected to have time and make plans. Surely they’re not just going to be throwing out me and my pregnant wife onto the street?
I suppose we could go to a hotel for a time. I’ve got some money saved; money put aside for the baby. We’ll have to dip into that.
I’ll have to find a job. Christ, what a mess. Right now, I can’t even sit myself up.
“Eli?”
I must have twitched or given some sign indicating I’m not unconscious anymore. Making an effort, I open my eyes. Or, half open one, the other must be swollen completely. But it’s enough to see my wife staring at me.
“Eli, you frightened me half to death. How are you feeling?”
Like I’ve been trampled by a herd of elephants. Which, actually, might not have been as painful. “I’m fine,” I lie. I try to smile reassuringly, but I’m sure all I achieve is a grimace. My ears still work, and I hear strange sounds around me. “What’s going on?”
“Prospects are packing up our stuff. We’re leaving as soon as they’re ready.”
“Leaving?” So soon?
“Yes. We’re going to Heart and Crystal’s old house. The club still owns it. At least we won’t be out on the streets, or not yet.” There’s more than a hint of censure in her voice. “We can stay there until we find our own place.”
When Heart’s first wife had been killed, Heart had never wanted to go back to the house they’d shared. The club actually owns it through a shell company, so it couldn’t be traced back to us. Over the years we’ve maintained it and kept it on, it being useful when we needed somewhere for someone to hide. But it’s not ‘we’ anymore. Something that’s going to be hard to remember. I don’t belong now. I’m my own man, just as I wanted.
My only responsibility from now on is my wife and child. I no longer have men depending on me.
My eyes have closed. I open them again, unfortunately in time to see Liv wiping tears from her eyes, and I have the thought that not all of them, or maybe any, are for me. I’m upending her life, changing everything and taking her away from the life that’s been all she’s known. I know it’s selfish of me, but I can’t see any other way out.
“Ha… Eli. Need you to get dressed.” It’s Rascal, and with the tone of voice he’s using he’s showing outright disrespect for his VP. I open my mouth—painfully—but then close it as it all comes back to me. I’m not VP anymore, and though he’s just a prospect, he is club. I’m not.
“Here, I’ll help.” Liv tries to put her arm around me as I attempt to sit up.
“For fuck’s sake, can you help her?” I call out. “She’s pregnant.”
“Should have fuckin’ thought of that.” Now it’s Nathan speaking insolently. Well I can’t blame him I suppose. He, Rascal and Butcher are working their asses off for the patch I’ve turned my back on.
Nevertheless, he does help me. He’s also gentler than I deserve, though as I sit up, unable to suppress my groaning, I can understand why. There doesn’t seem to be a part of me that’s not stitched, bandaged or black and blue. As for my balls… My uninjured hand cups them to try to get some relief, feeling they’re twice the size of normal.
When I find out which asshole did that… I’ll do nothing. Whoever it was wouldn’t give me the time of day, never mind the chance to take a swing at him.
Liv tosses me some sweatpants. I slide them on, grateful my legs at least support me as I go to stand showing there are no broken bones. When she picks up a suitcase that seems far too heavy for her, I realise I should be the one carrying that, but it’s all I can do to put one foot in front of the other. I try to give Nathan a grateful nod when he notices her plight and takes it himself.
In recent years, due to the numbers of houses which have been built here at the top, we’ve paved the track leading up from the bottom of the compound so trucks and cars can be driven up. Today I’m grateful for that, as I don’t have to shuffle too far before I’m sliding into the passenger seat of our car, and Liv gets into the driver’s seat. Behind us, I notice the prospects are getting into a truck.
I take one last look at the house we designed and equipped together, knowing today is the last time I’ll see it as I won’t be welcome back here. Then, I glance toward my dad and mom’s house, seeing no one coming out to say goodbye.
Guess it’s all too raw. Maybe, given time, they’ll forgive me.
Mom will, I know that. Dad? I’m not so sure. I’ve just torn up and stomped on everything he held precious. Like me, he’d been born into the club, lived and breathed it all his life. The difference being, while he thrived, I’ve become smothered.
Fuck but my head hurts. Or is my chest worse? When will the ache in my groin stop throbbing? At least the pain takes precedence in my head, overcoming the sense of loss for which I’ve only got myself to blame. As I ease back my head, I turn slightly, noticing Liv’s jaw is set.
She, too, is staring into the rearview mirror, back at the house we’ve just left.
“We’ll be fine,” I tell her, trying to sound positive.
“Will we?” She looks more angry than upset as she turns
to meet my eyes. “Will we, Eli? I’m not so sure about that.”
I owe her an apology for uprooting her life. But she’s my wife. It’s her role to support me, isn’t it? To be by my side? I feel a flare of temper myself. But the pain in my body tells me I’ve no desire to have an argument right now.
She slows while the gates slide open, automatically triggered by the remote in the car which Mouse will probably immediately disable, then we go through. I don’t even turn around to see the home where I’ve lived all my life disappear behind me.
It’s a rough ride down the long track which leads to the main road. However much I try to brace myself, everything hurts when we hit a pothole or bump even though Liv is driving as carefully as she can. I bite my tongue, refraining from asking her to slow down, torn between my suffering and my need to be far away. I’ll feel better, at least mentally, once all this is behind me.
Once we hit the road, I can breathe more easily. I try to summon up the excitement I knew I’d feel once I was free and able to start my new life. That I fail and any joy evades me, I put down to my physical injuries. It’s hard to look forward when I dread having to get out of the car and again having to balance on my feet.
At last we drive up to a single-storey adobe house, the yard at the front looking nicely maintained. Well, if it wasn’t, the prospects wouldn’t be getting patched in—but I suppose from here on in, I’ll be doing that myself. The club won’t lift a finger to help me.
Liv pulls up the SUV in front of the garage, then gets out.
At least she waits for me, though she doesn’t run around and fuss, leaving me to get out and shut the door behind me. I’m exhausted as a result. Parts which hadn’t hurt so much on the drive make themselves known now.
She finds the right key—she must have already added to her keyring—opens the front door, and stepping up to the alarm consults a piece of paper she takes from her pocket and inputs the right code. At least this place is secure. It will do as our temporary home until we can find a place we can make ours.
I’ve not been inside for years, so I refresh my memory now. The front door enters straight into a comfortable living room. There’s an outdated television on the wall, and two couches which have definitely seen better days. I also recall it’s a three-bedroom house, but one will work fine for now. I’m in no fit state to explore, so I go and lower myself onto the couch, letting out another groan. I think I’ve uttered more of those than words since I first woke up.
“You can’t stay there long,” Olivia informs me. I open my one working eye to stare at her.
“Prospects are bringing our couches in. I hate to even think about sitting on that.” She points, in disgust, at the sofa I’m sitting on. Yeah, now she’s mentioned it, the musty smell reaches even my blocked and probably broken nose. I can feel a spring poking up under my ass. “Heart said to throw anything that was here out.”
When the prospects stagger in through the door, I struggle, get myself upright again, then a few moments later sink my backside back onto our own couch from home.
I’m useless, unable to offer to help. But then, that’s what prospects are for. Not anymore. After this, I’ll be doing everything myself. I realise they’re not helping me, they’re helping her. The old VP’s daughter still garners respect while I don’t. Not anymore.
The decrepit television is taken away, ours installed. Our bed comes in too, along with her bedroom set.
I sit bemused while boxes of kitchen equipment are brought in. Liv directs the prospects as to what should stay, and what should be removed. A loud whirring sound and a blast of cool air shows the air conditioning, at least for now, works.
In comes our fridge, out goes the ancient one. Pots and pans are banged around as she decides whether there’s anything here that needs to be taken away.
It wasn’t the talk with Throttle, it wasn’t the discussion in church, it wasn’t even the beatdown I’d received. But when the prospects finally leave and I stare around an unfamiliar house with all the comforts of my own, it’s then I realise I’ve really left everything behind and closed the door on my old life. Now I’m faced with opening a new one and I’m not yet sure which way to turn. Time for that when I’m feeling stronger.
“Do you want anything?” Liv asks me tersely.
I think she’s angry. But when I take a good look at her face, I realise she’s trying hard not to cry.
“Babe…” I start, but get no further than that, as her face tightens.
“No, Eli. Don’t say a word. Not one bloody word, okay? This is our life now. We move forward, and I’ll try not to look back. You’re hurt, I get that, so I won’t press you today. But in time you’re going to tell me why. Why you left the club. Why you left the only life we have ever known. Why you’ve taken me away…” Now the sobs start, and she turns so she’s facing the opposite wall as if trying to hide them for me. “You are going to tell me, and soon. Because I don’t understand, Eli.”
Then she runs off. I hear a door bang, and then I hear her wailing from one of the bedrooms.
Oh fuck.
It hits me what a useless piece of shit I am.
In my desperation to get out, to do the thing I had to do, I hadn’t considered her. I just dragged her along with me.
Chapter Six
Olivia…
I cry until there are no tears left.
I threw in my lot with Eli before I said my first word. It had always been him and me against the world. Other people call me Olivia or Ollie, to him I’ve always been Liv, his girl. Mom and Sam had suggested I stay on the compound, leaving Eli to reap what he’d sown alone, but I couldn’t consider that for a moment.
My husband rides, rode, with a one-percenter motorcycle club. I always knew I could be a widow one day if he’d had a bad accident on his bike, or if he’d gone up against the wrong enemy. This way of life is not without risk, and it was always a possibility that I would have to live without him. Or 'that way of life', I should now say. It’s not mine anymore.
I couldn’t have stayed at the club and watched him walk away into the sunset. My place is here, beside him. I’ll survive outside the club, I’m just not sure I’ll thrive, or whether he will. Right now, I’m not certain he realises exactly how much or what he’s given up, or whether there’ll ever be any kind of substitute for what he, and I, have turned our backs on.
No, there was never any question about choosing between the club or my husband. But hell, it’s hard. I’ve no mom or family living close by me. I’m on my own with only an injured man for company. A man who’s not in danger of dying on me. A man who brought his hurt on himself. Heaven forgive me, but I can’t feel much sympathy.
The baby kicks at my stomach reminding me some things are not going to change. In three months I’ll be a mother, and it’s up to me to do my best to give this child a happy home. Sometimes I wonder whether Eli even wants a baby. Oh, he says the right words, but I can’t be sure.
It’s been a whirlwind twenty-four hours. I knew before he spoke to me that something was wrong. Perhaps it’s my fault I hadn’t spoken to him before, forced him to open up to me. But what woman wants to hear they’re not enough for their man anymore? It’s because that was what I feared he would say to me that I hadn't pressed him. I never dreamed he was troubled by anything else. Why, oh why, hadn’t I questioned him before? Could I have talked him out of the answers he had come to on his own?
If I’d been braver, could I have stopped it?
Why am I wasting my time thinking about it, or apportioning blame? It’s happened. Eli’s left the club and has taken his punishment. There’s no way back, no point in dwelling on it. Forward is the direction I should be looking. However much I want to turn back the clock, I can’t. I have to move on.
And moving on isn’t going to happen while I’m lying on this bed feeling sorry for myself.
Yeah, baby. I smile as I feel another movement inside me. We’ll make this work. We have to.
Blotting
the last of my tears, I sit up, then stand, then open one of the boxes the prospects brought in. I place clothes in the closet and in the drawers, then put fresh linens on the bed. My stomach growls, reminding me life goes on and I’ve got to eat. No more going down to the clubhouse and seeing what’s cooking. Nope. That’s going to be all down to me as well.
As I pass by the couch, I see Eli so still, I’m sure he must be sleeping. I continue into the kitchen and look at what food the prospects unpacked. I give a wan smile, seeing my mom’s hands in some of my favourite cereal and cookies. The cupboards and fridge seem to be well stocked, but damn, I don’t feel like cooking anything. There is one benefit to being in the city, it will be far easier to order food to be delivered here. I settle on ordering in pizza. To hell with what Eli wants.
A phone rings, the unique tone telling me it’s mine. First, though, I have to find it. I spy my purse on the worktop and manage to extract it and answer before it rings off.
“Olivia, it’s Mom.”
I roll my eyes. Kind of guessed that when her name appeared on the screen. “Hi, Mom,” I reply, both welcoming her voice and wishing she hadn’t called. She reminds me of home, and everything I’ve lost.
“Just want to call and remind you I’m still here. We’re all still here for you, Olivia. You need to come home, then that’s what you do.”
“I am home,” I remind her as well as myself. My home is wherever my husband is.
“Yes, well.” I can hear disapproval in her tone. Then with forced brightness she asks, “Are you settled in?”
“The prospects did a good job.” I don’t add I’ve spent the time since they’ve left wallowing in self-pity.
“Yeah, well. If you need anything else done—”
“Mom,” I stop her, reminding her of the fact, “we’re not club now. We’ll have to do everything ourselves.”
“Tell her I’m more than capable of doing anything my wife needs.” My eyes snap up at Eli’s voice. It’s hard to tell as his face is so swollen, but it looks like he’s glaring.
Hawk's Cry : Satan's Devils MC Second Generation #2 Page 5
