Deserter

by Myers, Shannon

  He returned with my father in tow and I sank down onto the small bench in front of the vanity in shock. “Daddy? How long have you been here?”

  In other words, were you on the other side of the door the entire time? How much did you hear? Does this room smell like sex?

  Jamie gave a slight shake of his head, as if answering all three of my questions simultaneously. “He was waiting at the bar with Comedian. I’ll give you two a minute to catch up and then we’ll get started.”

  The door closed with a soft click and my father dropped down next to me on the bench. “Celia, you look stunning.”

  I slipped my hand into his, as if we hadn’t spent the last seven months not speaking to each other. “Did Mama come too?”

  He looked down at the floor and shook his head. “She’ll come around. She just needs more time. I bet by the time this little one comes along; things will go back to the way they were before.”

  Things would never go back to the way they were before and, with the exception of not having my mama by my side, I preferred it that way.

  “How did you know to come?”

  “Jamie stopped by and when your mother refused to let him in, he camped out on his bike until I got home from work.” He paused and clenched his jaw. “I haven’t done right by you in a long time, Celia. I dragged you into this whole mess.”

  I squeezed his hand and leaned into his shoulder. “Daddy, I’m not going to lie and say that what you did wasn’t wrong. It was, and I hope that you’ve stayed clean because Mama—”

  “I swear to all the saints; I haven’t used since they took you.” His voice cracked and he looked down at the hardwood again.

  “Ever since you were a little girl, you’ve been this whirlwind and I just imagined you conquering the world. I never saw you staying here.”

  I nodded and arched my back, trying to alleviate the dull ache that had returned. I hadn’t imagined staying either. The plan had always been to travel the world after Chicago; to live like a local and experience new cultures.

  If my father had made different choices… if I’d never met Jamie… if I hadn’t chosen to keep Kate.

  If… if… if.

  The world could’ve been my oyster, but I would’ve felt something missing with every fiber of my being. Jamie and Kate were my home.

  “I love him,” I said quietly.

  He nodded. “I know. And he loves you; it’s obvious. He waited out your mama threatening to call the cops just so he could ask me to be here to walk you down the aisle. Bikers do have aisles, don’t they?”

  I nodded, hung up on his declaration that Jamie loved me. His actions said one thing, but he’d carefully avoided saying the words and had gotten skilled in distracting me when I did.

  “There’s a lot more to being married than people realize and then, adding a baby to the mix? You’re so young, Celia.” His eyes misted over, and I blinked back my own tears.

  “I was there the day you came into this world and I swore to keep you safe. As parents, you want to keep your kids sheltered from everything—”

  “Daddy,” I began.

  My father tightened his hold on my hand before asking, “He’s good to you? I mean, you’re happy? I never wanted you to settle for anything—”

  “I’m not. Jamie’s a good man.”

  He stood and reached for my hand. “Then, I think it’s time I get you to your husband.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Celia: 1990

  I studied the table and card in front of the serious biker across from me before looking back down at my own.

  Ace and a seven.

  I slid a separate stack of chips next to my original. “Double down.”

  Hawk slapped a three down and flipped over his second card.

  A four and a two.

  “That means I won, right?”

  “Yeah, princess. That means you won,” Jamie responded with a soft laugh before squeezing my shoulder.

  The wedding receptions I’d attended had been stuffy affairs, requiring the finest china and hosiery that dug into my hips. The food was never enough to fill me up and it was frowned upon to ask for seconds on cake.

  Jamie had ensured that we had enough food for an entire army, or at least a crowd of bikers. Rock music blasted from the speakers in the corner, but the kids seemed to be the only ones interested in dancing.

  Apparently, my new husband didn’t know how. Not that anyone cared; most were content to drink and gamble away their evening.

  Hawk slid the chips across the table with a scowl. “Consider this another wedding gift.”

  I scooped them into my handbag. “Thank you, Hawk.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched up in a reluctant smile. “Anything for you, Celia.”

  Hawk was the club’s newest patch and according to Molly, the best-looking. She’d been eyeing him for the better part of the day. If he’d noticed, he hadn’t let on, much to her disappointment.

  I studied his face while he talked to Jamie. He was attractive, like an older version of River Phoenix. But, unlike the other bikers, he was clean-shaven and not covered in tattoos. In other words, the exact opposite of what Molly usually looked for in men.

  Jamie clapped him on the shoulder. “Bet you’re regretting teaching her how to play fuckin’ blackjack right about now.”

  Across the room, Lucy held up a cup of punch and pointed to it. She looked like a red-headed Dolly Parton with her teased hair and tight curls. I tried to squeeze past Jamie, who was deep in discussion with Hawk, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.

  “Where you goin’?”

  I pointed to Lucy. “I’m gonna go visit with the girls. I think I’ve taken enough of Hawk’s money for today.”

  “I think you owe me an explanation, wife,” he whispered against my shoulder.

  My skin prickled at the term and I leaned into him with a happy sigh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, husband.”

  “Where’d you learn to play blackjack? And don’t give me that ‘it’s my first time’ bullshit.”

  I shrugged. “I watched a lot of Price is Right growing up and got really good at the pricing games. Have you ever watched them play Hit Me? It’s a lot like blackjack.”

  He narrowed his eyes as if trying to figure me out. “Best Hawk and I can figure; you counted the cards.”

  I arched my back and Jamie’s hand moved down to knead my sore muscles. “I just kept track of the cards that had been played. Is that cheating?”

  I’d kept a running tally in my head with every low and high card played. As Hawk burned through the deck, my strategy improved, and I began winning.

  It was simple math.

  He kissed my forehead with a grin. “Not illegal, babe, but don’t broadcast that shit, especially around these fuckers. They’ll be lining up to get their money back.”

  “It should be common knowledge. Otherwise, you’re just throwing your money away. And I beat them fair and square.” I pressed my spine against his palm with a sudden wince.

  Jamie’s brows drew together, and he stopped rubbing my back. “You okay, babe?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I just overdid it yesterday by running around, trying to get everything ready. I’ll go visit with Lucy and then sit down again.” At his stern expression, I added, “I promise.”

  Lucy was on her third drink by the time I finally made it over to her. “Jesus, thought Grey was gonna keep you all to himself over there. So, how was your first and last experience with gambling?”

  I took the cup of punch in her hand with a chuckle. “First and last? I see my reputation has been ruined.”

  There was a tug on my wedding gown. “Excuse me.”

  I looked down to see a blond-haired, blue-eyed little face staring back at me. He couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. I leaned down to him. “Hello there. What’s your name?”

  “Mikey. Did you know your stomach is ginormous?”

  “Michael,” Lucy chided, whil
e I fought a grin. “We don’t say those things to people.”

  “Miss Lucy, it is! Look at it. It’s like that movie, Alien, when it bursts out of the guy’s chest. Like this.” He thrust his fist forward with a cry before falling to the floor dramatically, twitching as if in the throes of death.

  I covered my mouth with a laugh before ominously replying, “The doctor told me it was a baby girl, but we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

  He popped back up with a mischievous smile. “What if it’s an alien? What will you do then?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t even know how to take care of an alien baby.”

  Mikey puffed up his chest. “I could help you. I’ve done a lot of research. I’ve been reading all the books on UFOs and then Mr. Grey bought me a telescope so we could find the beautiful Celia star in the sky. Stars are boring though and when he’s not around, I look for—”

  “You spend a lot of time at the library. You know of any books on UFOs?”

  “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but Grey got someone in trouble before.”

  “Mikey,” I interrupted, my face tingling as the blood moved south. “Where is your mother?”

  Lucy’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second and I wondered how many others knew the truth and had kept it from me. “Celia, why don’t we go find your dad. I think I saw him with Wolverine earlier.”

  I shook my head, seconds from floating away from my body.

  “She’s right there. Don’t worry, she said I could come over and talk to you. She said to wish you a happy wedding day, but I forgot when I saw your stomach. I was supposed to say that very first, but aliens are all I think about—”

  I absently patted at his hair, while staring daggers at the back of the woman’s head. She must’ve felt it because she slowly turned around with a sly grin before raising her glass in a toast to me.

  Betsy.

  I mashed my fist against my lips with a startled cry and began backing away.

  “Celia,” Lucy reached for me. “Just wait a second.”

  I turned to flee, running right into Comedian.

  Did he know?

  Did everyone know?

  He smoothed his vest and grinned. “Hey, Celia. Did you hear the one—what’s wrong?” He draped an arm around my shoulder and led me down the hall, away from prying eyes. “Look at me.”

  I reluctantly met his gaze, knowing the truth had to be written all over my face. “I just—I got warm and needed a minute.”

  “Do you need some water?” When I shook my head, Comedian brought a hand up to my belly, but paused before touching me. “You look so beautiful—well, all pregnant women do. May I?”

  I nodded dumbly, incapable of speaking the simplest of phrases. He cupped my belly in his palm, seemingly oblivious to the rage coursing through my veins. My eyes burned with unshed tears and I wanted nothing more than to drag Betsy out of the clubhouse by her hair.

  “I loved seeing my Ol’ Lady knocked up.” His fingers stroked along what I imagined was Kate’s back and she squirmed against his hand before going still again. The grin returned to his face and he shook his head. “It’s fuckin’ crazy how much they move around.”

  “I’ve had three. Then, I got pregnant with my Michael and I just knew I was ready. Things were so different.”

  My hand came up over my mouth in a startled gasp and Comedian stepped back, dropping his hand. “Celia? Did I hurt you?”

  I was going to be sick.

  The hallway narrowed as the pieces fell into place. It was why she’d been so helpful, insisting that she drive me to Viktor’s. She’d aborted Comedian’s children but kept my husband’s.

  Why?

  “Comedian,” Jamie stated, and we both turned to where he was standing. I let out a soft whimper in my attempts to keep from crying.

  His eyes narrowed in on me as he walked closer and I’d never wanted to wake up from a nightmare more than when his eyes flashed, not with anger, but guilt.

  It was true.

  All of it.

  “Excuse me,” I managed to croak, before slipping into the small bathroom. I threw open a stall, ignoring the graffiti and less than sanitary conditions, before sinking down to my knees to vomit.

  I felt dirty.

  Ashamed.

  When I finished, I ran the back of my hand across my mouth, wondering how I was supposed to go back out there and pretend like nothing was wrong. I couldn’t even begin to fathom how anyone had kept this a secret.

  The door opened and I sighed. “I just need a minute, Jamie.”

  “It’s not Jamie.”

  I tore off several pieces of toilet paper and dabbed at the sweat on my forehead before struggling to get back to my feet without touching the floor or walls. I flushed the toilet with my foot and met Betsy by the sinks.

  “I see you’ve met Mikey.” She met my reflection in the mirror before pushing her lips into a pout. I’m sure she saw herself as Cindy Crawford while I felt like Shamu, waddling up next to her.

  “You’re in my way.”

  She shifted her hips, allowing me access to the sink to wash my hands. “Isn’t he just the most adorable little boy you’ve ever seen?”

  Betsy was out for blood and I wondered how I’d missed the venom in her words before. How could I have ever believed that she wanted to help me?

  “He’s a cute kid—looks nothing like his father though,” I responded coldly.

  I rejoiced in watching as the pout disappeared into a flat line. She’d come in here to bat me around like a cat would a toy, yet I’d shaken her.

  “You must’ve known, Celia. You seem like a smart girl. Did you really think Grey was spending all those late nights with the club?” Her hand trailed down over her breasts before coming to rest against her flat stomach. “You’re obviously in no condition to give him what he needs, and a man like Grey has a lot of needs.”

  The blood roared in my ears and there was a brief moment where her words worked their way under my armor and pierced my heart, but it was gone just as quickly. Biker or not, Jamie wouldn’t do that to me.

  Betsy was trying to get a rise out of me; to bait me into attacking her. She’d failed at convincing me to have the abortion; maybe she saw this as her second chance to ensure that Mikey was Jamie’s only child. Every muscle in my body went taut with fury as I saw her for what she truly was.

  Trash.

  My fingernails dug into my palms until I was certain I’d drawn blood. I wanted nothing more than to rake them down her beautiful face until she was as ugly on the outside as she was on the inside.

  The only thing keeping me in place was the fact that she’d called Jamie by his road name, not his real name.

  “You’re absolutely right.” My voice stayed low and even, despite the storm brewing in my mind. Her mouth fell open in shock and I continued. “My husband has a lot of needs, which are being met by me… daily.”

  Her chest went blotchy, the color rising all the way up to her cheeks. With pursed lips, she took another step toward me. “Then why does he keep crawling back to me, night after night. Sweetheart, wake up and smell the coffee—”

  I wanted to lay hands on her, and not in a spiritual way. I even envisioned myself admiring the rock on my left ring finger as I throttled the life out of her.

  That was what she expected, but I wasn’t doing anything that might jeopardize my daughter.

  I put a hand on my hip and smirked. “Don’t sweetheart me, Betsy. If Grey wanted you, then you’d be the one in the wedding gown—not me.”

  “You’re nothing more than a spoiled rich bitch who wants to slum it with the bad boy for a while,” she spat. “Grey needs a woman who knows this lifestyle—someone who knows what he needs—”

  I laughed. “Is that the best you can do? You’re attacking me because you know he’s not yours. He has never been yours, you told me as much at the gathering. You have a husband. Leave mine alone.”

  I turned
away to adjust my dress with Betsy continuing her taunts from behind. “Has he told you that he loves you? Trust me, he won’t. Once you’ve had that kid, he’ll be on to the next teenager that gets his dick hard and then where will you be?”

  “Your poor husband is completely clueless to your lies. How do you live with yourself?”

  “My poor husband?” She blinked rapidly before lowering her voice. “Jesus Christ, you really don’t know shit, do you?”

  Maybe she thought I was going to say something to him; I honestly didn’t care. I’d just found a way to shut her down. Comedian was her leash; the one thing preventing her from chasing cars down the street like a rabid dog.

  My flower crown had slipped again, and I took my time straightening it before adding, “He seemed to enjoy having his hands on me. Maybe he’s not getting enough attention at home?”

  I regretted the words the moment they were out of my mouth. I’d committed to taking the high road only to be derailed when she mentioned love.

  Jamie didn’t love her, but that didn’t automatically mean that he loved me and implying that her husband had feelings for me had only made a bad situation worse.

  “Betsy, I shouldn’t—”

  “You cunt!”

  I winced as she shoved me forward, sharp pain slicing through my belly. I gripped the edge of the sink and tried to straighten before doubling over again with a cry.

  I felt a soft popping sensation and then a gush of fluid began trickling down my thighs. “I—I think—”

  The bathroom door swung open and slammed against the wall with a thud, but I didn’t look up from the puddle gathering near my feet.

  “What the fuck did you do to her?” Jamie’s boots came into view, stopping at the edge of the river flowing out of me.

  My water had broken… it appeared that it was still breaking as every little movement sent another flood down my legs. A pale pink stain spread across Yiayia’s dress and I found myself wondering if it would lift.

  I brought my eyes up to meet his and carefully said, “I’m in labor.”