by K. Ryan
I pulled my truck into the precinct, jerked into a space, and shifted into park. Sure enough, just like I'd predicted, we had a sedan tailing us all the way back from Wilmington right up to the precinct's parking lot. If I'd gone through with this the way I was supposed to, I'd probably be sitting in holding right now, getting fingerprinted, and forced into a nine by nine cell until I could get sentenced for murder.
Come hell or high water, I'd made the right fucking decision.
With my eyes locked onto the double-doors in front of us, I shifted just enough to make sure she wouldn't bolt on me.
"You clear on what you have to do?" I asked her in a calm, even voice.
Becca swallowed tightly and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "It's either this or you guys kill me right?"
I shot her a wary glance.
"I think I can live with this," she whispered.
"Me too," I exhaled.
"You're sure they won't—"
"They were blackmailing you, Becca," I cut in abruptly. "There's no way any judge would give you a maximum sentence after the way they played you. They made you feel like your back was against the wall, like you had no choice. So now, they've got nothing and you've gotta face the fallout."
She drew in a deep breath, her eyes still focused on the precinct's double doors when they darted back to me. "Thank you."
"I didn't do this for you."
She nodded sadly, her eyes still shining with unshed tears. "I know."
I tipped my chin to her and held out my hand. Becca quickly slid her phone into my palm and that was all I needed from her. The last order of business where she was concerned was walking her into the precinct and sitting with her until a deputy escorted her into a holding room.
Prison was the right place for her now. A place she'd earned. But she didn't deserve to be in a hole in the ground, especially since she'd been right about us. We'd turned on her the second we found out about her drug habit. Instead of containing the issue, getting her ass out of town or at least offering some damn support and trust, we'd been immediately suspicious, immediately willing to throw her to the wolves to save ourselves, just like she'd said.
I was no better than the rest of them, but at least now, I'd saved someone's life instead of taking it.
This was the first time in my life I've ever blatantly disregarded orders or even blatantly questioned those orders and in going against the grain, I'd followed my gut and kept myself out of prison.
This was the first time in my life where I'd put myself before the club. Where I'd put my own family before the club. Right about now, I wasn't sure if any of them, save for Dom, even really understand what having a real family meant.
. . .
When I finally pulled back into my driveway, I turned the ignition off as my eyes drifted to my duffel bag, the same one that contained the gloves, cleaning supplies, and silencers we would've used to get rid of Becca.
I scrubbed both hands over my face and pulled the driver's side door open to head inside the house. It was done. It was over. And I'd come out of it the other side with life as I knew it still intact.
Not that I'd expected anything less, but Marcus wasn't happy. We'd had orders and we'd disobeyed. I had disobeyed. I'd do it again if I had to and he knew it. For all the swearing and stomping in rage I heard from his end of the phone, the second the word tail had left my mouth we both knew he didn't have a leg to stand on. I'd made the right call, whether he liked it or not.
I shuffled through the kitchen and into the living room to find Dom and Isabelle sitting shoulder to shoulder against the wall across from me. The second Isabelle's eyes locked with mine, her entire face crumbled. She covered her face with one hand, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs, and Dom reached out to put his hand on her shoulder to give her what little comfort he could.
"Iz," I called out softly, but her shoulders just kept shaking. "Iz, look at me."
I waited just long enough for her eyes to fly back up to me before delivering the news, "She's fine."
Her eyes widened and Dom's mouth lobbed open a little in stunned silence.
"What?" Isabelle whispered, staring back at me like the words just didn't compute.
"Becca's okay," I told her as I headed for her.
Dom waited long enough until I slid down next to her before rising to his feet to give us some space. His job was done here anyway; it was on me to pick up the pieces now.
I pulled Isabelle's shaking body to my chest, holding her to me as tightly as I could, to give her as much as I could. "Long story short, babe, they tailed us all the way to Wilmington and were waiting for us to bring out a body. I figured it out before it was too late. It's over now, Iz."
Dom's eyes were still on me, digesting my words and then his eyes narrowed. "So what did you do?"
"I made her turn herself in at the precinct," I shrugged and tugged Isabelle a little closer to me. That seemed to be enough to appease him and he nodded before walking out the front door.
I leaned down to brush my lips against her forehead. "I couldn't exactly let her just walk away after what she did, but she didn't deserve what the club wanted to do to her either."
Her eyes glimmered with tears and she leaned into me, as if holding on for dear life. "You did the right thing. I'm so glad you did the right thing."
"Me too," I murmured.
"So Becca's gone?"
"I don't know exactly what they'll charge her with, but it's not gonna be the maximum sentence. Not after the stunt they pulled and gambling with her life like that. She'll do some time, get what she earned, and then if she's smart, she'll never step foot in this town again."
It wasn't until Isabelle had cried herself into exhaustion, whether it was from relief, grief, or both I still wasn't sure, and until I'd carried her to bed that I found myself back out in the garage and slid into my truck. I reached for Becca's phone before I could stop myself and carried it over to my tool bench, where the two black GPS tracking boxes sat waiting for me.
Now that it was in my hands, I wasn't sure what I wanted. Right up until this moment, I thought I'd known exactly how I would handle this, how I would feel. But now that I had it, now that the temptation was there, it would be easy to just press the home button to at least see if she had a passcode. If she did, all I'd have to do was ask Eli to jailbreak it and I could access anything she'd recorded without a problem.
There was a part of me, a shameful, deep-seated part, that needed to be 100 percent positive Isabelle hadn't fallen into the same trap that Becca had, that she'd remained loyal until the bitter end of this whole mess. The undertow of this temptation was just too strong and I knew I'd get carried away and drown if I fed into it.
My hands gripped a hammer a second later and then I gave it hell, pounding the shit out of Becca's phone until all that was left of it were tiny scraps of metal and dust. I needed to demolish it until all the temptation was gone.
Listening to that recording would be a violation of everything we were building together.
I chose to trust and to protect her instead.
And so, I carried the ashes of Becca's pulverized phone and Isabelle's handwritten directions to that beach house out to the makeshift fire pit in my backyard and burned every last scrap.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
On Call
Isabelle
Becca's happy face smiled up at me and my heart knotted violently. I hit delete. Then I swiped my thumb to the next picture in my camera roll: one with Becca and me cheek to cheek and smiling brightly into the camera. I hit delete. I didn't know how many times I repeated that motion, but each time I did it, it was just as cathartic as it was agonizing. Each time I hit the delete button, the knife in my heart twisted a little more, but deep down, watching the pictures disappear was a relief.
I had to forget her. I had to erase her memory as much as I could. Holding onto it wouldn't help me move forward.
My eyes fell to the clock on my phone and then I tossed it down onto our be
d. Caleb should be home from the shop anytime now. We had a big night ahead of us and here I was, clouding the mood and wallowing in a pit of despair and depression that still wouldn't change the outcome.
Becca was gone. It was over.
I needed to find a way to move on.
I needed to find a way to forget that I'd been just as willing to write Becca off as the rest of them, that I'd basically handed her over to them, written directions and all, with barely any hesitation. The second she'd asked me to choose between her and Caleb, I was done with her. Now, I was just as callous, as ruthless, and as selfish as the rest of them. I could've tried to help her, but I'd turned my back on my best friend instead and I still couldn't reconcile the repercussions of what I'd done.
I just didn't recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror sometimes.
Life, for the most part, was moving on, so it was for the best I move with it. Caleb and I went about our normal routines, juggling work, school, and the club. We didn't talk about the fact that Dom had barely spoken to him these last three weeks. We didn't talk about the fact that Eli had blasted out of the clubhouse on his bike two days after that night and hadn't been back since.
I didn't really want to talk about anything involving the club anymore. Sometimes, I wished I could forget it even existed.
As I slipped my dress for tonight off the hanger, my eyes fell to the other one covered up by a garment bag and a light smile touched my lips.
One more weekend and I'd be wearing that dress at City Hall.
Maybe that's all I needed to do now: just focus on the positive, the things I should be looking forward to anyway.
Those two dresses were the first maternity clothes I'd purchased, which I figured was a celebration in itself. I set the black dress on the bed and then let myself unzip the garment bag for a quick look at my dress for my first wedding to Caleb. It was simple, but beautiful. The beaded, strapless bodice dipped into an empire waist with flowing layers of organza skimming my knees. The layers would lay right over my little baby bump, not necessarily to hide it, but to accentuate these new curves.
My hand drifted down to my stomach, covering the gentle curve and I smiled. A light fluttering right in the center of my stomach had me chuckling; she was definitely making her presence known, as if I could ever forget about her.
With that thought, I zipped the garment bag back up and tucked it into the back of my closet again. The black dress for tonight slid on pretty easily, given that my stomach was a little more rounded since the last time I tried it on. It was just a simple black dress with a high-cut tank-top style neckline with racer-back scoops cut out in the back. I liked it because it was form-fitting and I found myself chomping at the bit to wear it around for everyone to see.
Just as I finished touching up a few long curls with my curling wand, that tell-tale roar of a motorcycle ripped down the street and right into the driveway. Butterflies flurried in my stomach and I gave my hair one last spritz with some spray before changing course to the hallway to find Caleb tossing his cut over the side of the couch with a shopping bag in his hand.
His eyes flicked to me for a just second and then slammed back to me, a slow, sexy grin spreading across his lips as I met him in the living room. He gave a low whistle and shook his head, promptly tossed the shopping bag on the couch, and reached for me to pull me into his arms.
"Iz," he murmured and pressed his lips into my neck. "You look..." he trailed off and tilted his head just enough to address Seth, who was perched dutifully on our couch, "Prospect. Get outta my house."
Seth scrambled off the couch and hightailed out the front door, but neither one of us was really paying all that much attention to him. My lips curled up as Caleb's hands slipped around my waist to pull me against his chest. His mouth was on my neck again, leaving little trails of hot fire in his lips' wake and I shivered in his arms as his hands skated down my hips to skim the edge of my knee-length dress up my thighs.
I laughed, pushing him back with both hands before we got too carried away. "As much as I would love to take this further, you need to change and we have to get going otherwise I'm gonna be late."
Caleb groaned and knocked his forehead into my shoulder. "Ten minutes?"
"No," I shook my head, still laughing, and shoved him backwards so I could grab the shopping bag and sneak away. "We needed to leave 10 minutes ago. What is it with you and 10 minutes anyway? Whatever happened to 15? Or 20? Or some foreplay, maybe?"
His lips twitched with amusement. "You can have all the foreplay you want. Just as long as you keep that dress on."
I was already backpedalling into the kitchen to put some space between us and called over my shoulder, "Isn't the whole point to get my dress off?"
"Oh, don't worry, Iz," Caleb called back to me from the hallway, where he was, thankfully, heading towards our bedroom. "It'll come off. Doesn't mean I don't wanna enjoy that dress though."
"Wow," I muttered, shaking my head as I hopped up on the counter and rifled through the shopping bag, my eyes lighting up at what was inside. By the time Caleb re-appeared in the kitchen, still buttoning up his white collared shirt, I'd already dug away at a good chunk of the mint chocolate chip ice cream he'd brought home for me.
When I hopped off the counter to put the container in the freezer, he was hot on my heels with his lips on my shoulder. His hands slid around my stomach, easily finding the swollen roundness there.
"I felt that little fluttering again today before you got home," I told him. "She's just getting comfortable. You know, stretching out, making a little more room."
Caleb laughed, gently turning me around in his arms until I faced him. "It's a good thing we'll get all that resolved once and for all soon enough. Then you'll eat your words, Iz."
"Shut it. I'm right. You're wrong."
"Okay. Whatever you say."
I leaned back a little to take him in and ran my hands over the hard planes of muscle underneath his shirt. "You look nice."
He took a step back and spread his arms out wide to give me a better view. "So I pass?"
"Oh yeah," I nodded. "You'll do."
Caleb leaned forward to kiss me, thought better of it, and opted to plant a quick kiss on my forehead. But when his phone buzzed in his back pocket, my heart skidded and plummeted right into my stomach. I knew what that meant and I blew out a shaky breath as he shot me a worried glance before digging for his phone. I didn't even need him to tell me what the text said—the way his face fell and the way he squeezed his eyes shut pretty much said it all.
"You have to go, don't you?" I whispered.
"Church in 10," he nodded soberly. "I'll get there in time, Iz. As soon as I can, I'll get my ass to the gallery. I promise."
All I could do was mask my disappointment as best I could and watch him head back into the living room for his cut, his phone to his ear while he made some last-minute arrangements. My frustration wouldn't do anything but make Caleb feel even more guilty than he already did and make me feel even more stressed out than I already was.
With his keys in one hand, he swung his cut on over his shoulders as he strode back into the kitchen. It was a jarring image: that clean-cut white button-down tucked into black dress pants with his leather Horsemen cut thrown over the top. It didn't quite mesh, but it didn't quite look out of place on him either. The two sides to him were more apparent now than ever, the outlaw and the sweet, sensitive father of my baby.
Two sides of the same coin.
Two completely different lives.
"I don't have time to change," Caleb told me quietly and then bent down to press a quick kiss onto my stomach. "Gotta get you to the clubhouse so you can hitch a ride with the prospect."
At the very least, I was grateful he hadn't called Skyler or Lexie to take his place until he could get there. I just didn't want to turn my first showcase into a bigger deal than it needed to be because I kind of just wanted to get it over with more than anything. Besides, I'd just wante
d to be alone since Becca's exit from my life and Skyler and Lexie had been just as distant as Dom since everything had went down.
"I'm not gonna miss any of it," he promised me again. "Even if church runs a little long, I'll get there as soon as I can. I'll do 150 on the highway if I have to."
"Can your truck really go that fast?"
"She will if I tell her to."
We'd meant to cut the tension, to lighten up this dismal reality, but it didn't work. Even as he ushered me into his truck, I just couldn't shake this sick feeling in my stomach.
The club was his full-time job and he was on call 24/7. If he got the call, he had to go. No matter what was happening, no matter what responsibilities he had at home with me, one phone call and he'd have to be on his bike en route to the clubhouse. The club didn't give a shit that we had somewhere important to be tonight because it wasn't important to them.
I had a sinking feeling that I could be in labor, ready to deliver, and Marcus would still feel like he could call him away and Caleb would still feel like he had to go.
That was just something I'd never get used to.
. . .
Caleb
I pulled out my chair at the table, ignoring Casey's eyebrows wiggling idiotically at my shirt and pants, and I chose to pop a piece of nicotine gum into my mouth instead of giving him any sort of reaction.
Damn, this gum tasted like shit. Like mint and piss. Moldy piss. Well, it looked like I'd found something that tasted worse than Isabelle's cooking. At best, this was just a distraction until church started and until I could get my ass back on the road. I had a 45-minute drive ahead of me and I needed to get this over with now.
I already felt like a big enough asshole the way it was. The longer I sat here, the worse I felt for basically throwing Isabelle to the prospect and ditching her for the clubhouse. Now I couldn't stop thinking about what I had to miss because I was sitting here instead. About where I'd rather be than here at this table.
