by Naomi West
I could only hope so.
I rolled back over, staring at the wall, and eventually fell back into a restless sleep.
Chapter Four
Jake
Bryce came back into the living room and held out another beer to me. I took it gratefully, using the opener on my keyring to pop off the cap in one smooth, practiced movement. I took a healthy swig, nowhere near drunk enough to deal with the chaotic thoughts running through my head.
This seemed to be my near-constant state ever since Halley had come looking for me at the shop. That had been four days ago now, and I still couldn't seem to get her out of my head. My thoughts were a jumbled mix of what-ifs, both past and present. What if she had stayed? What if I had gone to Louisiana to find her? What if we hit it off again? What if...
“Dude, where the fuck is your brain lately?” Bryce asked, and I realized he had been holding out his bottle to clink against mine for a few seconds now while I stared off into oblivion.
I shook my head, trying my best to clear it, and tapped my bottle against his before I drank another large gulp of the liquid. “Sorry,” I muttered. “There's just stuff on my mind.”
“What kind of stuff, though?” Bryce asked. “Come on, man, we're best friends; you can talk to me about these things. Maybe I could even help you. Surprising, I know.” He paused. “Seriously, though. Is it something with the business?”
“Nah, it's nothing to do with the business,” I said. “Thankfully. Things have been actually really good lately. We've all been working hard, and that leads to—”
“Oh, come on, man. Don't start sounding like a corporate boss!” Bryce laughed a little, but his face quickly fell back to the serious, concerned look that he'd been sporting before. “I take it you're probably not just wondering how you're going to spend that bonus check that you'll be able to cut yourself in light of all this good business?”
“No, I already know that that's going to a new paint job,” I told him, frowning. “You know that too.”
“I know, I know,” Bryce said, holding his hands up placatingly, and I realized that my tone had been harsher and more agitated than I'd meant for it to be.
“Look, it's nothing big, okay,” I said, shrugging one shoulder. “Let's just drop it.”
“Uh huh,” Bryce said, shaking his head. “Man, I've never seen you like this before. Just spill it.”
“There's a girl,” I finally admitted.
Bryce's eyes got big. “Oh. Wow.” He laughed again. “Dude, I totally didn't see that one coming.” He leered at me. “So, she's got good tits and you keep getting lost in 'em?”
I silently tried to decide how much I wanted to tell Bryce. “Remember when Halley came into the shop the other day?”
If anything, Bryce looked even more comically incredulous. “Did you start banging her again?” he asked.
“No,” I said hotly, picking at the label on my beer bottle. “Do you remember that girl that I slept with five or ten years ago, at that girl Tiffany's party? At the biker bar.”
“Oh yeah,” Bryce said, rolling his eyes a little. “Jesus, you would have thought you were some woman, with the way you were pining after her. Like, one-night stand and you suddenly think the two of you are soulmates or something.” He took a sip of beer and promptly choked on it. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, shaking his head. “You don't mean to tell me that that was Halley, right?”
I didn't say anything, and he groaned. “Oh fuck, dude. Why didn't you tell me that the other day? That explains so much.”
“Yeah,” I said, scrubbing a hand back through my hair. “Thing is, I still don't know even what she wanted. And I stupidly gave her my number instead of writing down hers.”
“Rookie mistake,” Bryce said, smirking at me. “If you want something that badly, you have to be proactive, man. Don't go putting the balls in someone else's court.”
“I know,” I moaned. “I keep hoping that I'll run into her around town. I've been going out of my way to go through a bunch of different neighborhoods and whatever else I can do, but I still just haven't seen her. It's eating me up.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Bryce said. “I mean, I still think you're nuts, but that explains why you've been a total space cadet lately. You're kind of edging your way towards creepy stalker levels, though.”
“I just don't know what else to do,” I said miserably.
“What about what's her name? Tiffany?” Bryce asked. “You met Halley at her party, right? And wasn't she the one who told you that Halley had moved? Wouldn't she have, I don't know, at least a phone number or an email address or something for your girl?”
“I hadn't thought of that,” I said, inwardly cursing my stupidity. Of course, Tiffany would have that information; years ago, she had told me that the two of them were really close friends, and they probably still were. Even if they weren't she could probably point me in the right direction. Or at least, I hoped so.
I bit my lower lip, looking around the place and suddenly realizing how stupid I was to be having this conversation in the middle of the Devil's Route clubhouse. Sure, we were the only ones in the living room at the moment, but anyone could walk in at any time. And hell, there could be people listening from out in the hallways or anywhere. I winced.
“You're too suspicious for your own good,” Bryce said, chuckling a little. He knew me well enough to read my sudden change of mood like that.
I shook my head. “Remember that Frank has announced me as his heir to the Devil's Route MC,” I said, keeping my voice down just in case we were being listened in on. “And that means that certain people are going to be looking for any way to stab me in the back. Showing a stupid weakness like—”
“Falling for a woman isn't a weakness, Jake-o,” Bryce interrupted, shaking his head. “Plenty of bikers have wives, remember?”
“But getting hung up on a woman who was meant to be just a one-night stand is...” I shook my head. “Look, let's drop it, all right? But I'd appreciate if you would keep this whole thing private for now. The last thing I need is anyone else from the club mucking around in my personal business.”
Bryce shrugged. “Sure thing, man. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
I rolled my eyes at him and drained the rest of my beer, already getting up to get another one.
Chapter Five
Halley
I stared up at the imposing, brutalist building, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
“Come on,” Tiffany said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I mean, after all the shit you've had to deal with living with Brian, this should be, like, the least scary thing you've had to do in years.”
I gave her a look. “Not helping.” It was kind of funny, sure, but it hit a little too close to my already frazzled nerves.
Tiffany sighed and squeezed my shoulder. “Halley, you know as well as I do that things are only going to get better — for you and Cole both — once you guys officially start working on a divorce. And forget for a minute about the whole custody thing. I know you've only been putting off signing the divorce papers because Brian told you he was going to sue for custody, but you know the judge would be mad to award custody to that drunken asshole.”
I sighed, closing my eyes for a long moment and counting to ten. “You're still not helping,” I told my best friend, but when I opened my eyes again, I was at least able to crack a small, amused smile. “Let's just get this over with.”
I led the way into the building, trying to ignore the way my high heels echoed on the smooth tile and the way it was just this side of too cold in there with the air conditioning turned up high. I had my task in mind, and I made my way quickly to room 239 with Tiffany trailing along behind me.
When we finally sat down in front of the attorney, Mr. Barry Esposito, I was a jittery mess; the only thing keeping me even remotely sane at the moment was Tiffany's never-wavering grin of encouragement. “So, Mrs. Scott,” the man said, drumming his fingers on his desk as he
opened up my file. “How are you today?”
“I'd prefer that you call me Ms. Talin,” I said, grimacing. “'Scott' was my married last name, and as you know, I'm hoping to get that ... fixed.”
The attorney smiled at me. “And we can do that,” he said. He handed a stack of papers across the table towards me. “These are just the standard legal documents for the divorce. You'll need to sign them today, and then a copy of them will be delivered to Brian which basically says that we're opening the divorce procedures against him. It also lists all the assets and the splitting of them, as we had discussed before. Since all that you've asked for out of this is custody of Cole and you've left the house and everything else to Brian, I don't foresee him wanting to fight you on it. It should be a fairly easy split.”
I cleared my throat a little awkwardly. “I expect that Brian may try to. sue for custody of Cole.”
Barry's eyebrows rose towards his hairline. “Oh really?” he asked. “But isn't one of your main complaints about your marriage the fact that he is an alcoholic and prone to drunken rages?”
“Yes,” I said quietly, twisting my fingers together. God, I'd be so happy just to be done with this whole business, with this whole awkward mess.
The thing was, Brian had been so nice to me for the month that we'd dated, and he'd promised he would take care of Cole and me. He came from a family that had money, and he met me just when I was beginning to realize how much those diapers and early childcare bills were going to add up. And he'd been so sweet and charming for a while, such a perfect gentleman.
It was only about two months after our wedding that things started to go downhill, and fast. Of course, there had always been the little selfish things that he'd done, but I had written those off, reminding myself that he was an only child in a rich family; he was just used to getting his way and always being right.
But then he had started drinking more and more, and getting angrier and angrier. What had started out as mean teasing whenever he had one too many drinks of rum then just turned into meanness overall, and then turned into epic screaming matches that often ended in broken glasses or vases.
I still remembered the first time he had hit me. He didn't do it often, but when he was a certain level of drunk, and especially back before I'd been able to reign in my own temper, there had been quite a few black eyes.
I shook my head. “All the same ... I don't expect him to go quietly. And he...has a lot of money. He could hire a good attorney, someone who could…” I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Not that I don't think you're a good attorney, it's just that—”
Barry held up his hand, cutting off my babbling. “I understand what you're trying to say,” he said. He frowned a little, tugging at the edges of his mustache. “Well, you being the mother, I still think that we can get a judge to award you sole custody, especially since Brian's name isn't on the child's birth certificate. Of course, that case would look stronger if there were a father's name listed on the birth certificate...”
I glanced over at Tiffany, who was still giving me that same, encouraging look. “I might… well, I'm not sure I'll be able to do that, but I was recently in contact with Cole's father...” I trailed off. Of course, it didn't really count as being in contact with him when the man still didn't know that he was a father and when I still hadn't managed to call him. But maybe, given a little time, I'd be able to.
“These things move fast,” Barry reminded me. “If you're planning on getting Cole's father's name listed on his birth certificate, that's something you'll want to get started on sooner, rather than later—before they even think to try to sue us for sole custody. Otherwise, things are only going to get messier.”
“Okay,” I said, my voice barely audible.
“So, if you just want to sign these, then...” Barry prompted.
“I have one last question,” I said, risking a quick look up at the man. I cleared my throat again. “What do I do if…” I swallowed hard. “See, the thing is, I don't expect Brian to really appreciate the fact that I'm divorcing him,” I said carefully. “So, what do I do if he gets upset?”
Barry shrugged. “Well, once you two have legal dealings with one another, you're not supposed to have any contact with one another without your attorneys being present,” he said. “So, unless you think Brian is going to come over to your house begging forgiveness—”
“More like come over to her house drunk and looking for a fight,” Tiffany muttered loudly.
Barry looked surprised and gave Tiffany a sharp look. “Ms. Talin, do you really believe that might be something he would do?”
“It wouldn't be the first time something like that happened,” I admitted. “Especially if he's been drinking, he has a tendency to be … I mean, usually he reigns it in if he knows that Cole is around, and I doubt he'd do anything at my parents' place, but … well, I just never really know with him.”
“In that case,” the attorney said grimly, reaching into his drawer and pulling out another sheet of paper, “I'd suggest filling out one of these before we serve him the divorce papers. This is a request for a restraining order. Of course, it may not do anything to stop him from coming after you, but at least if he does come after you, it'll help us ensure you get custody of Cole, and may even help us put him behind bars.”
I breathed a small sigh of relief and grabbed the paper from him. “That's good,” I said. As he had cautioned, I didn't think a piece of paper was really going to stop Brian, especially not if he was, as Tiffany had suggested, drunk and looking for a fight, but it at least gave me a little peace of mind that maybe the courts would be on my side, despite the fact that Brian could probably buy everyone in the justice system off if he really wanted to.
Twenty minutes later, Tiffany and I were back out in front of the building.
“See, doesn't that feel better?” Tiffany asked cheerfully, linking her arm with mine.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, and unexpectedly felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I bit my lower lip as it wobbled. And then, I totally burst into sobs.
“Hey, hey,” Tiffany said, pulling me into her arms. I expected her to ask what was wrong, but seemed to already understand, despite the fact that she had never gone through this herself. “Easy,” the other woman murmured, stroking her hair back.
I finally pulled away, taking another deep breath and putting on a brave smile. The papers were all signed, and it felt, at long last, as though I might one day be free of Brian again.
Chapter Six
Jake
One day, as I was out running errands — grocery store, post office, a little bit of business for the Devil's Route, just stuff like that — I finally ran into Halley. I heard her before I saw her; she was laughing at something, and the sound carried from the little outside café table that she was sat at. The next thing I noticed, of course, was that shock of red hair, which was absolutely unmistakable in a small town like this.
I swung my bike in a U-turn around the median and pulled up to the curb, stopping next to her table, with only some bushes dividing us.
“Hey, darling,” I drawled, before I had really processed what I was seeing.
She was having lunch with a little kid. My mind raced for a moment, wondering whose kid it was and why she was having lunch with the boy. I knew she didn't have any siblings, and I knew Tiffany didn't have any kids. But maybe she was babysitting?
That was the thought ran through my head until the boy turned to look at me with his pure, blue-green eyes. His black curls were a little longer than mine, and his cheeks were, of course, pudgier. Plus, he had her nose and her cute, heart-shaped face. But that kid…
I tried to mask my surprise; I wanted to process how I felt about this whole thing before I let on that I knew that he was mine. I had to wonder if Halley realized it. Maybe she thought the kid belonged to someone else and that was why she had never told me.
Or maybe she just thought I was some sort of deadbeat biker dude who couldn't pay
his bills and didn't care to have a family.
The thought made my blood boil, but I took a deep breath to calm myself. It wasn't fair to her for me to get upset before I even knew what her reasons had been. For all I knew, she had only found out about the kid after she moved to Louisiana, and then what was she supposed to do, call me up on the phone number that she didn't have and tell me, oh hey, move to Louisiana to be with your kid? That wasn't the kind of thing you could discuss over the phone.
Halley had gone white as a sheet. “Hey,” she said, but it took her a few times before she managed to actually make the sound come out of her mouth.
“Mama, who's that guy?” the kid asked, staring openly at me.
