KNOCKED UP BY THE HITMAN

by Nicole Fox

  She frowned, but she did what I asked and crossed the room to bend over my shoulder. The cloying scent of her perfume wrapped around me like a noose, choking me. “Introduction to Writing? American Literature? What on earth would you take classes like that for?”

  I had known this argument would be coming, and I was ready for it. “Ever since I came back, I’ve started writing again. I had done some of it in high school, and I forgot how much I loved it. Remember that award I got for my poetry?” I had received a certificate, not a trophy, and it had been buried in a box of schoolwork somewhere and forgotten.

  She sniffed. “Yes, but I don’t see what good that’s going to do you. What would you even write about?”

  I shrugged, floundering a little. “I’m sure I could find plenty of things to write about once I had the education under my belt. Maybe my experiences as a beauty queen would help other girls out.” I highly doubted it, but I had to find something that would make her a little more enthusiastic about the idea.

  “You aren’t thinking straight, Bambi.” She picked my hair up off the back of my neck and began running it through her hands, pushing her fingernails between the strands to comb them out. “Even if you took the classes, and even if you got the degree, it isn’t as though someone would pay you to write. It would be a complete waste of my money and of your time.”

  “But there are professional writers all over the place,” I countered. “Someone has to write for the newspaper or for magazines. People write commercials and movie scripts and pamphlets. There are plenty of jobs out there if you just think about them.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. But are those people actually making any money? They’re behind the scenes, darling. Nobody sees them or cares about them. What a pity it would be to have you hiding behind a computer instead of out in the public.”

  I turned to stare at her. The woman who had been refusing to even let me go to the corner store for a loaf of bread was talking about me being in the limelight. “What?”

  “You know, honey, it isn’t as though everyone is just going to forget about you now that you’re home. You have some duties yet to perform as Peach Festival Queen. Now, don’t worry. I’ve been able to put off the town council and explain to them that you’re recovering, but it’s time that you get back out there.”

  “Why would they want me at all? I would have thought they would have demanded that I resign my title by now.” I had tossed the crown in a roadside ditch, and the sash had been pitched in a garbage can at some random gas station. I hadn’t shown any respect for the title or the town, and it was hard to imagine that anyone could forget it.

  Mother laughed, a sound that grated against my teeth. “Sweetheart, you never see the big picture, do you? That’s why you need me here at your side. You see, there’s going to be a ribbon cutting at that new convenience store on the edge of town, and that’s the perfect chance for you to go back to normal life. We’ll get you a new dress and everything.”

  I was completely bewildered. “But I’m pregnant . Surely that rumor has flown around town already.” I knew how Myrtle Creek worked. You were good and wholesome and wonderful until you got yourself knocked up. Nobody ever blamed a guy, either. It was always the woman’s fault. That was what happened when you lived in a small southern town.

  “Oh, I’ve got that all taken care of as well. You see, the local news is coming by tomorrow to do a follow-up piece on you. Everyone is anxious to see how you’re doing now that you’re home and safe again. We’ll confirm the rumors about the baby—because it isn’t as though we can really hide it—but you’ll let everyone know that awful biker raped you.”

  A wave of shock nearly knocked me out of my chair. “We can’t do that! It isn’t true!”

  She ignored me. “I don’t think we’ll share any details, not unless we get you a spot on a national news show or a documentary, which I fully expect to happen. A raped beauty queen? The media will descend on that like a bunch of buzzards, each of them fighting to get the exclusive.” Her face was lit with excitement as she stared into the distance and fantasized. “Maybe I should get you an agent? I could still be your manager, of course, but an agent with all the right connections—”

  “Mother!”

  “Yes, yes. You’re right. We need to focus on tomorrow’s interview first, and then we can take it from there. This will get you plenty of sympathy, and nobody will be able to cast any blame on you at all. The town will take its crowned sweetheart right back into its arms, and you can start living your life like you always did.”

  I wasn’t interested in that same life, and I had thought I had been saved from at least some of it by the coming baby. “Mother, this isn’t right. Snake didn’t do anything wrong, and we can’t villainize him like this just for my sake. Or yours.” I said this last part quietly.

  Mother rolled her eyes. “Snake. You think with a name like that he could ever be considered innocent? No matter what happened while you were gone, you can’t tell me he was a complete angel. It’s just not like that in the real world, Bambi. Don’t go thinking people are nice and kind, because I promise you they aren’t.”

  I had learned that lesson well, but mostly from watching her. I turned back toward the desk. “No, they’re not.”

  “We’ll give it a couple months and play it out. After all, you are sweet and young and innocent, and you have high moral standards.” She continued to play with my hair, piling it up on my head and twisting it into little knots. “But we can do another news release down the road to let everyone know you miscarried.”

  My vision tunneled, darkening around the edges until I could only see the brilliant computer screen. It was a shockingly white light, but it seemed so far away. “Miscarried?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. We can find a nice family somewhere up north—nice and far away—to adopt the baby. But a miscarriage will buy you a few more months out of the spotlight. Once it’s done, we can whip you back into shape and get you out there again.” She clapped her hands together lightly as though she had just accomplished something delightful.

  “Mother,” I whispered, “I’m not giving up this child.”

  Swiveling around the desk chair so I had to face her again, she bent down so that her face was level with mine. “And just what sort of options do you think you have? This isn’t something you want . Getting pregnant was just an unfortunate byproduct of your wild adventure. You’re too young, and you have too much ahead of you.”

  I stood up and stormed across the room, folding my arms and staring out the front window. “Some of that might be true. I didn’t really mean to get pregnant. But I am, and I’ve accepted that. I wish you would as well.”

  Mother sighed. “Bambi, listen. Let’s pretend for just a moment that you have that baby and you keep it. Do you have any idea how expensive a baby is? At the very least, you have formula, bottles, diapers, wipes, clothes, blankets, sheets, a crib, a stroller, and a car seat. Don’t forget toys, shoes, coats, and doctor visits. That’s not even including all the other little things you would want for the baby. I was just looking through a catalogue in the other room and adding it all up in my head. You aren’t ready for a financial burden like that.”

  “I might be, if you would let me get out in the world on my own and have some experiences.” I kept my arms crossed.

  “May I remind you that you did get out in the world for a little while, and look where it’s gotten you? Do you expect me to pay for this child? It isn’t as though you could go get a job, because then you would have to pay for daycare. You spend the afternoon calling around and checking rates, my dear, and that alone will make you change your mind.” She wagged her finger in the air at me, sure that crunching numbers would affect how I felt about this baby.

  While I could easily have argued that I could get an evening job and Mother could watch the baby when she got home from work, I knew I would never let that happen. I didn’t want her influence on any child of mine. She would only raise the baby
to believe that I was some horrible, ungrateful daughter. Or perhaps, if it was a girl, she would stuff her in uncomfortable dresses and show her off to other old women. I shuddered at the thought. I shook my head, exasperated. “I’m sure I could find some way to work it out. And there’s always child support.”

  “Ha!” Mother threw her hands in the air and laughed. “You really are naïve if you think some loser like that is going to give you money just for giving birth to his brat. Even if you had the child support ordered through the state, the jerk would never stay still long enough for you to track him down when he quit paying. Your father never gave me a dime for you, you know.”

  I’d heard her mention this before. She refused to say much about my father, but she never neglected to tell me just how he had left her in the lurch and that it had all been on her shoulders. Mother was always completely innocent. My father—the ghost of some dream Mother had had years ago—was always the culprit.

  “Snake just isn’t like that,” I insisted. I was surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth, considering how much I had loathed him when I had heard about the bet. But I still felt there was some trace of decency in him, or perhaps I just hoped there was.

  “You just wait and see, missy. I know I’m right, and someday you will, too. Now, then. Let’s figure out your hair and makeup for the news report. I think we should get you a trim and cut off all those dead ends, but I want to leave it nice and long. It makes you look more innocent, you know, so you should wear it down for the interview. I ordered a new pair of those blue contacts you wanted, since I seem to have misplaced the last pair. We might have to go up a shade on your foundation, since you spent far too much time out in the sun, but we can blend it all nicely together and have you presentable.” She finally came close to me once again, and her eyes scrunched up and she inspected my face.

  I had never felt more alone in my life. I didn’t have Snake anymore. I had never really had Mother, and what friends I used to have weren’t really friends at all. The only person I had was this baby, and who knew what would happen to it. I was stuck and alone, and still nothing more than a prisoner.

  Mother had completely moved on from talk of the baby, and her tone implied there was no more time for arguments. She pushed me down the hallway to the bathroom. “Let’s go ahead and do a test run. I don’t want to get down the wire and find that something doesn’t work right. Also, we absolutely must go out and get you some new clothes. There isn’t time to go to any of the specialty boutiques, but I think we can find something suitable at the mall.” She set me down in front of the lighted makeup mirror and began raking a brush through my hair, yanking my head back with every stroke. “I’m thinking something conservative, but still cute. Maybe a skirt suit. That should hide that little bit of a bump you have going on, as well. I wonder if one of my old girdles would work?”

  I watched myself in the mirror as though watching a stranger, a stranger who had never been happy for a moment of her life. A tear welled up in my eye and dripped down my cheek, following all those tears that had gone before it. Many times since I’d returned home, I’d thought I had cried myself completely out. I had prepared myself to be numb to everything going on around me, but it never happened. Every day, I woke up and I was once again disappointed to find myself in the same cage I had always been in.

  Chapter 13 Snake

  I scanned the road, watching the cars as they went by and looking for anything that might seem remotely familiar. The morning sun beat down on me, the blazing heat shimmering where it rose from the asphalt. The cloudless sky had already turned such a pale blue that it was nearly white. It was going to be a long day on the bike.

  “Hey, man.” Axle came up behind me and looked out where I was looking, but I knew he wasn’t really searching for anything. He ran his fingers through that long, curly hair of his and pulled a rubber band off his wrist to tie it back. “You all packed up and ready to go?”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “I guess.” I had risen before the sun, listlessly throwing my few belongings in a bag.

  He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly through pursed lips. “I know you aren’t saying anything about it, but I know what’s wrong.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?” His surety about my mindset irritated me. He was young and reckless, even more so than I was, and he had no idea what was really going on.

  “Come on. Everyone knows, even if they don’t say anything. Every morning, you come out here and you watch the road, waiting to see Bambi come back to you. You don’t know how she’s going to get here, if she’ll have grabbed a cab or hopped on the bus and walked from the station. But you still think she’s coming back.” He looked out across the road again. The sun highlighted the freckles that were scattered across his nose and cheeks, which made him look far too youthful and innocent to be in a motorcycle club.

  I clenched my jaw, irritated that he really did understand. “Is that such a bad thing?” Very little had been said about Bambi since that horrific night when the cops had tried to arrest me. They’d let me go with nothing more than a warning to stay in the area in case they needed to talk to me, but that didn’t mean I could just shrug it off as though it hadn’t happened.

  “Well, I guess not. But I think we all know at this point that she isn’t coming back. She went running back to her mama. That’s what all women do eventually, anyway.”

  I turned to him fully now. “And just when did you become such an expert on women? We’re not just talking about some quick fuck in a dark parking lot, Axle. This is different.”

  “I’m just going off of what I see, man. My own mom did it, running back to live with Grandma when she couldn’t stand fighting with Dad anymore. He said he should have seen it coming a long time ago, or maybe even sent her back home himself. Said all women are like that.” Axle shifted slightly, his boots crunching against the dirty concrete of the parking lot.

  “I’m sure some are,” I agreed, “and I’m sure some of them are like that because men made them that way. But not all of them.” My stepmother certainly hadn’t left, even though her relationship with my father had been tenuous. For all I knew, they were still together. It wasn’t like it mattered anymore. “Bambi is different.”

  “It’s been a month,” Axle argued. “It’s time for the club to move on, and it’s time for you to move on, too. You’re just bringing everybody down, and you have no proof that Bambi really was different. I mean, how do you know she wasn’t the one who called the cops on you? Have you ever thought about that?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened.” Rusty had just come out of his room, and he walked up to us with a duffel bag of clothes over his shoulder. “And you have to admit, she was a little too clean for this group.” Rusty had forgiven me as soon as he had mopped the blood off his face, but he had been a little more distant in the intervening weeks. I couldn’t blame him. I’d been an ass, but hitting his smug face had felt good. There was still just the faintest trace of a bruise down the length of his nose. I hadn’t broken it, but I had come close.

  “Maybe so, but you know just as well as I do that she wanted to be with me. She only left because she found out about that bet. Which I still won, by the way.” I smiled at the last part, an expression that felt odd on my face after feeling somber and numb for so long.

  Rusty punched me on the arm. “Maybe we should send her the money just for having to put up with your ass.”

  It was meant as a jest, but there was a certain sense of logic in the joke. “Yeah, you do that.”

  Bruiser spotted us from across the parking lot and came striding over. “You boys ready to go?”

  Axle and Rusty nodded, but I remained neutral.

  The president studied me. “The Warriors have been in one spot for too long. We need to hit the road and get somewhere far away. There have been too many people coming around, trying to see who we are and wondering if we’re all kidnappers. That’s not the kind of attention
I want for us. I know that wasn’t your fault, Snake, but even you have to admit that enough is enough. It’s still hot enough that we can ride north for quite a way and get a good distance from all these high-and-mighty southerners.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Axle volunteered, rubbing his hands together. “I think I’ve pretty much run through all the available women around here; well, those that are worthy of me, anyway. I’m ready to see what northern girls are like.”

  Rusty let out a loud laugh that thundered against the side of the building. “They’ll reject you just the same as the southern ones do.”

  Axle lifted his hands. “Hey, it’s still worth a try, right?”

  Bruiser hadn’t taken his eyes from me while the other two bantered. “What do you say?”

  I looked him straight in the eye. A slim scar ran down his forehead, skipped over his eye socket, and darted down his cheek. It remained pale despite the deep tan of his skin, a prominent reminder to anyone who thought he wasn’t a fighter. Bruiser had scared the hell out of me when I’d first joined the club, but I knew a lot more about him now. I knew that no matter what kind of vows I had made to stay loyal to the Warriors, he would understand what I had to do now. “I’m staying.”