by Geri Glenn
“There it is,” she says with a smile, doing lots of clicking and notations on the screen in front of her.
She continues to do her thing, taking measurements and entering the information she sees, but I don’t pay any attention to her. I stare at that baby. My baby. Mine and Reaper’s baby. I’d been scared when I first realized I was pregnant, but now, looking at the strong and steady beat of its tiny heart, my fear is gone. All I feel is love. Love and determination. I’m going to be a mother.
“All done,” she says as she wipes the goo from my stomach. When she’s finished, she takes my hand and helps me to sit up. “You can go ahead and get dressed. We’ll send these over to your doctor for you. And this,” she holds out a small square of paper to me, “is for you.” I take it from her and stare down at the image she’d captured of my little peanut. “Congratulations.”
She takes her leave so I can get dressed, but I stare at the picture for a moment. I’ve fucked up so many goddamn things in my life. Hell, I’ve fucked up more things than I’ve gotten right. But this, being a mother, I’m not going to fuck it up. I’m going to be the best mother any baby has ever had.
It only takes me a few minutes to get myself dressed, finally use the washroom and leave the office. Nobody’s waiting for me in the waiting room. Nobody knows I’m here. As I leave the building, passing expectant fathers sitting beside their wives and girlfriends, my gut twists.
It’s been two weeks since Reaper came home, and still he hasn’t called, texted, or even stopped by Ryker’s like he used to. He’s been avoiding me, and normally, that would hurt, but at this point, it just pisses me off. I didn’t do anything to deserve this silent treatment. I’m not the one that hurt him. Laurie’s the one who did that, but somehow, he’s lumped me in with her and now, holding this picture of our unborn child, I’m ready to kick some giant biker ass.
It takes me twenty minutes to drive to the clubhouse. When I get there, I see the long lineup of motorcycles, and I’m able to pick out Reaper’s immediately. There won’t be any avoiding me today.
Marching into the clubhouse, I nod and wave at a few of the brothers. Only a few of them wave back. I may be under the protection of the Kings of Korruption, but I don’t have any friends here.
Ryker is standing at the bar, talking to another one of the brothers. When he sees me, his jaw flexes. “This isn’t a good time, Anna,” he says, walking toward me.
“Where’s Reaper?”
“Like I said, now’s not a good time.” Ryker comes to stand in front of me and folds his arms across his chest.
“Now’s the time I have,” I say, folding my own arms across my chest, glaring at him. “Where is he?”
Ryker sighs, his arms dropping. “It’s your funeral, woman. He’s in the back, workin’ on the security system.” He points a finger down a long hallway. “Third door on the right.”
I push past him, my head focused, but my heart thrumming in my chest so hard, I fear it’ll burst from my chest. The door he’d directed me to is ajar as I approach, so I push it open with my fingertips.
“Reaper?” As the door opens completely, I see him, frozen in his task, eyes trained on me. He doesn’t say a word. “I was wondering if we could talk.”
He tears his gaze from me and goes back to what he was doing. “Not a good time.”
“So I hear.” I step inside and close the door behind me. “I really need to talk to you.”
He keeps working, but I can tell he’s not paying attention to me at all. “Then talk,” he says, his tone distracted.
“Can you look at me?”
A loud bang rings through the enclosed room as he slams down the pliers he’d been using and spins to face me. “What the fuck do you need to talk to me about? Bitch, I haven’t talked to you in weeks. If that wasn’t a clue that whatever the fuck we had was over, then I don’t know what I could have done to make it more clear. Now get the fuck out of here so I can get my shit done.”
He turns back to his work. I stand there, immobilized by the anger and hatred in his tone. Hot tears fill my wide eyes and spill down my cheeks, and I hate those tears. At the moment, I even hate him.
“Fuck you,” I say, my voice quivering with emotion. “You can be a hateful, lonely bastard all you want. That’s your problem. I have my own problems that I fight like hell to get through every damn day. But you, you’re broken, Lucas Landry. I get that. Hell, we’re all a little broken. But I’ve been there for you. I didn’t do one thing to hurt you. I came here to tell you something, and then I’ll go, but you will never talk to me that way again.”
His shoulders are dropped, but he doesn’t turn to look at me. “Tell me,” he growls.
“I’m pregnant.” The words cut through the air like knives, and it feels like the entire world stops spinning.
Reaper doesn’t turn to look at me. “You trying to say it’s mine?”
He might as well have punched me in the gut. All the air is knocked from my lungs at his question, and words fail me. I need to get out of here. But first, I reach into my purse and pull out the ultrasound picture. “I’m eight weeks today. Congratulations,” I whisper, laying it on the counter beside him. And then I get the hell out of there.
Reaper
The door closes behind Anna with a click, and without even making a conscious decision to do it, I pick up the pliers and hurl them across the room, leaving a jagged, gaping hole in the wall. “Fuck!”
My entire body vibrates as the anger consumes me. I don’t even know what I’m angry at. Fuck that. I’m angry at fucking everything. I take my arm and slide it across the table in front of me, sending the electronic equipment and tools to the floor, hearing the unmistakable crunch of expensive pieces breaking.
I stare down at the rubble and see the picture lying on a pile of broken glass. Bending forward, I pick it up and stare down at it. Amongst the shades of grey, I can see the baby lying there, nestled in Anna’s womb. Jesus Christ. I can’t believe she’s fucking pregnant.
Just then, my phone rings. I almost don’t answer it, but a quick glance tells me that it’s Laurie, calling from Sharon’s fucking house phone. I see red.
“What?” I snarl after accepting the call.
“Lucas? It’s Laurie.”
“I know who the fuck it is, Laurie. What I don’t know is why the fuck you’re calling me.” Sharon’s remains hadn’t even made it in the ground yet before Laurie had moved her ass into the farmhouse. The lawyer had assured me he would deal with the majority of the estate. All I had to do was just sign shit. Sharon had left that house to her daughter, and as much as it burns my ass that she’s squatting there, it’s hers now, whether I like it or not.
“My, you’re in a mood, aren’t you?” I grit my teeth, wishing technology had advanced enough that I could reach through the phone and fucking strangle this bitch. “I’m calling because the yard and stuff is getting scruffy. I remember Mom saying you took care of that for her.”
I blink. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Silence follows my question. It may have been sixteen years since Laurie and I were married, but she knows when I’m about to lose it. Finally, her response comes in a tentative voice. “No. I can’t do all of this myself.”
“I did it for Sharon, not you. Sharon’s fucking dead and that house is now your goddamn responsibility. You want the grass cut, cut it your damn self. And don’t you ever fucking call me again. In fact, lose this number. I was finished with you when I divorced your ass, and now that I see what a piece of shit you turned out to be, I want to forget I ever even fucking knew you.” I hear her gasp just as I disconnect the call.
I glance down at the picture in my hand and carefully tuck it into my wallet, then storm out of the trashed and battered surveillance room, needing nothing more than solitude, my motorcycle, and the road.
As I walk through the clubhouse to the exit, I pass a few of the guys. “Yo, Reap. I need a word,” Jase calls to my retreating back.
/> “Not now, VP,” I snarl and shove open the door. My blood is boiling in my veins, and my heartbeat rushes through my ears as I try to control the anger threatening to spill over.
When I reach my ride, I tug on my helmet and start it up. I take a quick glance, and sure enough, Belanger’s car is in its usual spot, right in front of the compound. I narrow my eyes and glare, and that’s when I notice, Belanger’s not in it. Where the fuck is that son of a bitch?
The bastard has to be here somewhere, nosing around in the Kings business, but as I step out onto the street, he’s nowhere in sight. But he’s around. He’s always fucking around.
“Ahhh!” I scream, yanking my blade from its sheath and running towards Belanger’s car. I don’t even bother to look around. I let the anger wash over me as I plunge my knife into his tire, over and over again. First one tire, then the next, and then the next, until his piece of shit cruiser is sitting on nothing but deflated rubber and dirty silver rims.
Looking around once more, I see no sign of Belanger, so I sheath my knife and hustle my ass back to my motorcycle, where the engine’s still running. The little tantrum I took out on the police cruiser has done nothing to curb my anger, but a ride will do plenty. With the picture of an unborn baby that is very likely mine tucked safely in my back pocket, I head off to lose my frustrations in the wind.
Anna
“Just put that stuff down anywhere,” Laynie instructs me. “Once you guys get it all brought in, I’ll tell you how I need it arranged on the counter, then you’re free to go decorate.”
Laynie’s bright smile and cheery attitude is almost enough to make me forget how badly I don’t want to be here right now. It never ceases to amaze me how much this woman can do, despite her blindness, and I’m happy to be a part of her party planning, especially considering the party is a baby shower for my sister.
Regardless, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see Reaper. It’s been over a week since I told him about my pregnancy and still, I haven’t heard anything from him. He’s gone radio silent. Or more like, stayed radio silent.
“Yo, Anna. Can you get the door?”
I rush to grab the hallway door for Bosco as he walks in, carrying a teetering armload of boxes and bags. Just as the door swings shut, I see Reaper, Ryker, and a few of the other guys sitting around a table, drinking beer and playing what looks to be a game of poker.
“Did you know Anna was gonna be here?” Reaper asks Ryker. He looks pissed, so I allow the door to close, using my fingertips to push it open just enough that I can still hear their conversation.
“It’s a party for her sister. Of course I knew. That a problem with you?”
If I’d known just how badly his next words would wound me, I would have closed that door and went about my business. I would have plugged my ears and hummed a tune. I would have done anything to not hear the words Reaper says next. “Yeah, it’s a fuckin’ problem. That bitch is poison. Her scrawny ass has no business anywhere near this clubhouse.”
A blade to the chest would have hurt less than his words, his confirmation that he had absolutely zero respect for me, even knowing all he knows. Even knowing that I’m carrying his child.
I let the door fall closed quietly and spin around. Bosco is standing there, his face sad, his eyes flicking from me to the door. “You heard?” I ask.
Bosco just nods.
“I can’t be here,” I whisper, hot tears betraying me and spilling over onto my cheeks.
“You have to be,” he says. “Who cares what they say, Anna? Who gives a flying shit what anybody says?” He points a finger at me, then at himself. “You know they’re wrong, and I know they’re wrong. You’ve come a long way from the woman he’s paintin’ you to be, and don’t you fuckin’ forget it.”
He’s right. I know he’s right, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper, too ashamed to look up at him. His body stills and I hear Laynie gasp from behind me. “It’s Reaper’s, but he’s… I don’t know what he is, but he wants nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, Anna,” Laynie says sadly, still behind me.
I finally risk a glance at Bosco and my heart sinks when he meets my eyes. “I can’t talk to you about this, babe. I just fuckin’ can’t. This is crossin’ a line with the club. I’m hopin’ to be patched in anytime now, and I’m not fuckin’ that up by gettin’ involved in the SOA’s personal business. I’m sorry.”
I blink back the tears and Bosco reaches forward with both hands, squeezes my shoulders, then steps around me to go get the last of the supplies. With wet cheeks and shaking hands, I stare after him, cringing when I hear the sound of laughter pouring through the closed door from the men. Are they laughing at me?
A pair of tiny arms wrap around me and I feel the press of fur against my bare leg. Laynie squeezes me tightly as her dog, Dexter, comes in for a cuddle of his own. “Oh, honey,” she says softly. “Does Charlie know?”
I take a deep breath and scrub the tears from my cheeks with the palm of my hands. “No,” I say, summoning up every ounce of strength I can muster. “And don’t tell her, okay? I just… I just need time to figure it all out.”
Laynie squeezes me a little tighter. “I never would,” she says quietly. “But you need to talk to someone, honey, or this is going to consume you.”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “I can’t. I don’t have friends here like the rest of you. I don’t have anyone but Charlotte and this baby.” I pull out of her embrace and take her hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. “I’m going to go grab the last few bags out of my car.”
Turning away, I head straight for the door, ignoring Bosco as I pass him carrying another armload of supplies. Fuck Bosco. I get why he can’t talk about it, but it doesn’t sting any less. Bosco and I have addiction in common, and if anyone were to understand even some of the emotions I have swirling down in the pit of my stomach, it would be him.
Reaper’s words echo through my head in the silence of outside. That bitch is poison. Her scrawny ass has no business anywhere near this clubhouse. A few months ago, I would have believed he was right, but now, I know he’s wrong. I know I’m not poison. I’ve worked so very hard, and I’m finally seeing some progress.
Fuck Reaper, and the rest of the assholes in this club. Me and my baby are going to be just fine without any of them.
Reaper
It takes exactly three seconds from the time Anna walks into the room for me to know without a doubt that she’d heard what I’d said. I watch as she averts her eyes, pain gleaming on the surface and scurries about with Ellen to put up the decorations. I hadn’t even fucking meant what I said. I’d said it in anger and frustration, and those two things are always a recipe for me to put my big fucking foot in my mouth.
“Reaper?” Bosco says, approaching the bar where I sit, nursing a beer as I watch Anna curl streamers together as Ellen hangs them. “Wonderin’ if we could talk for a minute?”
The look on his face sets me even more on edge. My eyes flash to Anna and I catch her just as she whips her head away. She’d been watching us. “Depends on what you gotta say.”
Bosco sighs and leans against the bar. “I wanted to talk to you about Anna.”
I bet he does. I lean forward and glare back at him. “Let me guess. You’ve been fucking her too.”
Bosco’s eyes widen and he pushes off the bar, standing tall. “No. And fuck you for even fucking sayin’ that shit. Anna’s a good person, and you’re bein’ a dick. She hasn’t had it easy, man, and–”
“What the fuck do you know about that?” Something about the fact that Anna’s confided in him has me seeing red.
He huffs out a breath. “I know plenty, and so do you.”
Narrowing my eyes, I stand, leaning forward until my face is merely inches from his. “Even so, in what world is it okay for a prospect to go inter-fucking-fering in a patched member’s personal business?”
“I know,” he says calmly, b
ut he doesn’t back away, and his eyes stay locked on mine. “And normally, I wouldn’t. Reap, you know I’m not a nosy bastard. I leave that shit to Jase. But this time, I felt I needed to say somethin’. I’m worried about her.”
He glances over at Anna and I turn to follow his gaze. She looks tired and sad, and the weight she’d been starting to gain is beginning to disappear. “She usin’ again?”
Bosco’s jaw flexes. “Fuck no. She’s been bustin’ her ass in school and grievin’ over whatever the hell went on between the two of you. And now that I know about the baby...”
That’s all I can handle. Grabbing his arm, I yank him into me, my gaze boring into his. “That’s enough, asshole. You don’t get to fuckin’ come in here and talk to me about my shit. I suggest you go back to helpin’ the women decorate this fucking place.” I shake my head and glare around the room, making sure not to make eye contact with Anna. “A baby shower in a fuckin’ biker’s clubhouse. Every damn one of us is gonna need trainin’ bras after this shit.” I let him go and take a step back, downing what’s left of my warm beer. “I see what you’re sayin’, Bos, but it’s not your place to say it, and you’re lucky I’m not in the mood to rip you a new asshole right now. Now go.”
Bosco stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head and disappears into the other room.
Grabbing another beer, I take my seat once more and turn to watch the women as they work. Anna doesn’t even glance in my direction. Not once. But I know she knows I’m watching. Ellen laughs and jokes, and acts goofy as she usually does, and Anna joins in, but it’s phoney. Her laughs aren’t real. Her smiles are filled with pain; a pain I caused.
I think back to what Lancaster had said about Laurie. She sucks you in with her gorgeous smile and her sweet words, but the woman is a black widow in disguise. She’s selfish and vain, and she doesn’t ever care who she hurts in the process of getting what she wants.
