My choice was complicated until I hear her voice.
“Bishop…” a voice moans. The fingers twitch, and I hear another slight groan. The cop turns his head towards the door, and I can’t help myself. I run straight at him. He only has a millisecond to see me before I’m on him like a pro linebacker. His body cracks under my weight, and his head bounces off the plank floors. I go for his gun first, peeling it out of his hands. He looks at me with pleading eyes.
“Don’t! Please!” he calls to me.
The man’s lucky that I hear Rivet calling my name again. Gritting my teeth, my fist barrels into his face, feeling the crunch of his nose and jaw under its weight.
“Stay down, motherfucker,” I mutter before rising to my feet again.
I take a second to drag him back behind a box before heading back out again, this time to the clear open space. With everyone’s back turned on me, I manage to make it over to her without being seen. The rest of the cops are too busy attempting to pick off my men running for the two more hidden exits and the small band of brothers still dueling it out from outside the warehouse doors.
“Fuck!” I mutter as I straddle Rivet’s body. She holds a faint hand to her forehead while it swivels around back and forth. “What the hell happened to you?”
Her eyes are still closed tight as she reaches out towards my voice. “Bishop? You’re okay? You’re not…”
“Not today, sweetheart. And not you either. We need to get the fuck out of here. Can you stand up?”
She doesn’t even try. Her head rolls to her shoulder as she sighs heavily. “No… No… Sleeping now…”
“Like hell you’re gonna fall asleep on me. Fucking hell!” I place my hands around her waist and, in a squat, throw her over my shoulders so that her head dangles down my back and her legs and ass are at my front. I take one look back over towards her as I command, “Don’t even think about jumping down from here. Stay put.”
“Got it, sir,” she replies. At least her sick humor is still there.
I take a look around the corner of the door but peel back as quickly as I can before a shot from one of my own nearly takes my head out. I reach a hand out with fingers paired up and crossed—the Carnivores signal.
Within seconds, I hear, “Goddamn it! Put your guns down for a second. Get him out of there!”
With the path cleared, I run Rivet out to the parking lot and past the group of gunners. “Get the guys’ backs! Get the last guy out and gun it back. I want a report from one of you when it’s clear!” Henry nods at me solemnly and presses his gun, a sniper, back up to his face like a good foot soldier taking his orders.
“You still with me, Jane?” I ask as I throw Rivet onto the back of my bike. Her head bobs and weaves a bit, but she manages to find my waist as I sit down before her. She murmurs something, but it just adds to the noise of my engine starting and the gunfire still popping off from inside the building. I hear other motorcycles and cars starting in the distance. At least I’ve got that. I got my girl out and the majority of the boys at least on their wheels. The two dead men and the cops are another story completely—one that I’m going to have to face as soon as I get to some safe spot where I can think back on all the shit that’s gone down.
I take off towards the street, towards the night. Hell can’t stop me now as I ride into uncertainty. But as Rivet leans in, her head resting tiredly on my shoulder, I feel something else other than fear and anger—something much warmer.
I rev my engine once again and make a turn back towards one of the safe houses. The Carnivores can wait.
Chapter Eleven Rivet
“What the fuck you saying, Dig? You implying that I had something to do with this shit? That I sent out some goons to kill my own men?” Bishop’s voice thunders through the hallway of the house, waking me up from my nightmare. I try to shake myself awake, but I can barely move under the thick layers of blankets and ice packs.
“Don’t move!” a woman urges me from the corner of the darkened bedroom. “You’re not in any condition to be moving.”
“What? Huh?” I try to slowly, painfully, make my way out of the tightly folded sheets, but the shadowy figure runs over and sits down on the bed beside me before I can get any further. I stare up at the stranger half expecting to see one of the club girls, but I don’t recognize her at all. This is a first for me.
“Who are you?” I ask in a whisper as I try to keep one ear on the booming argument happening outside the doorway.
“Abby. Nurse Abby. I, well, I work for the Carnivores when they need me to do some medical work that they don’t want reported to the hospital.” She reaches over to a metal lamp. The light flickers on, and I instantly recognize the room. This is the first bedroom I stayed in after the attack from the Snakes. This is the bed where I… Well, that doesn’t matter much now.
“What am I doing here?” I ask, despite knowing that she probably doesn’t have many answers for me given her profession. I’ve heard of doctors being called in. The club bribes them with money, drugs, protection, or a combination. In exchange, they write scripts for the boys or sew up stab wounds that would otherwise get reported straight to the cops. Viper used one for a gunshot wound he managed to get in a bar fight a few years back. I always imagined those doctors would be some seedy old farts in it for the money. Abby, on the other hand, has a soft, kind face and gray eyes that sparkle in the lamplight.
“All I know, Jane, is that something went down at the warehouse and that there are a few injuries I need to attend to. However, that man in there… Bishop, I think… he wanted to make sure that I took care of you first.” I turn my head towards the window, trying to hold back the smile that slithers uncontrollably onto my face. Not now. This wasn’t the time to get all gushy over this shit.
After a beat, I ask, “So, am I okay? Why am I not allowed to move?” I touch my forehead with my fingertips, feeling the tender skin where I can feel a massive bruise developing. I shudder to think what I must look like with this lump on my skull. “All I remember is the door slamming into my face and me being knocked against a wall and the ground. And then the shooting... “
Abby seems to analyze her words before continuing, musing on what hidden meaning they might have. “Yes,” she says, “yes, that is… very unfortunate. Luckily, only minor wounds to be treated. Most of the guys are back on their feet now. I only had to call in a surgeon for one of them.”
“Thank God,” I murmur. Another bloodshed like the one with the Snakes would be the end of the club.
“You heard what I said, you fucking prick! You’re not man enough to lead the Carnivores! You’re not man enough to wear the patch. There’s a reason why security wasn’t there until it was too late…” Dig’s sinister deep voice faded into the background as other men’s voices tried to shout him down. I turn back towards the door and motion to get up again, but Abby’s hand presses into my chest.
“Don’t worry about that right now, Jane. There are other things you need to worry about.”
My stomach drops. I look towards her, wondering if she knows. Could she? Did she tell Bishop if he is monitoring my care like she said he is? My mind races until I am forced to fall back to the pillows with a hand on my head in exasperation. Everything is spinning out of control again.
Nurse Abby, on the other hand, is as calm as can be as she reveals, “I had to take a blood sample from you to see if we could do an X-ray or not. Don’t worry, we didn’t. By the looks of it, you’re early along, and by that expression on your face, something is telling me that you haven’t told the father.” She looks over towards the door that is opened a crack so that a small amount of light shines through.
“The father…” My voice softens. “I have no idea who he is. I mean, I think I know who it is, but it’s not who it is supposed to be. He’s dead and gone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Club member?”
“Yeah. He was the VP—the second-in-command. He was taken down a few weeks ago. I haven’t had ti
me to really think about it.”
I cross my hands over my stomach, avoiding her touch. It’s the first time I’ve really acknowledged it like this. Even at my last doctor’s appointment, I couldn’t bring myself to touch it. I made myself deaf to the heartbeat. I was numb, but today—today I am forcing myself to feel something.
“I don’t want to be too personal, Jane, but as a nurse, I think I need to tell you that if you plan on doing something about the baby, you need to do it sooner rather than later. There are doctors I can send you to... discrete ones…” She looks at me with her slightly wrinkled face clicked to the side. “Unless that’s not what you want.”
The pressure inside my throat and chest bursts through like a dam being broken.
I spit out, “I have no idea! I don’t know what I want! I didn’t want this to happen! I didn’t want to have a baby with Viper, but knowing that it might be Bi— his… I’m not sure if I can go through with it. How am I supposed to raise a kid? The club would abandon me. I wouldn’t have anywhere to go or any money to support it. I’ll be back in the ghetto where I grew up… I’ll be—”
“Shhh, Jane. Stop.” She reaches over to smooth a piece of hair away from my face. “Calm down. You need to relax, or your concussion will only get worse.” She leans over me and bites her bottom lip as she thinks.
Finally, she reaches over the side of the table and grabs her phone from the inside pocket of her black leather bag. She fumbles through the pictures, sliding through scenes like pages from a book.
“Here,” she says as she holds up the phone to my face. A smiling boy, about ten years old, looks at the camera. He holds a basketball that nearly engulfs his small frame. His hair is a mess, and his cheeks are red and sweaty, but he beams up in excitement.
“I want you to see my son. His name is Christopher. I had him right before I graduated from nursing school. I was twenty then, and I lived at home with my mom. His father was this guy… This amazing guy. I probably loved him, but it was too soon to tell.”
She places the phone down as if to protect him as she continues with her story, “I didn’t mean to get pregnant too. It was totally not planned. My family was super traditional like that. No sex before marriage. No living together before there’s a ring… It was stupid. I was a rebel though, and I couldn’t listen to anyone. I slept with Marco, the father, the second night we met. A month later I found out about Christopher.
“I was so ashamed that I broke up with Marco and kept it a secret from my family. No one really noticed I was pregnant until I was nearly seven months along. At least then I had some time to make a plan and set aside some money. It wasn’t nearly enough, but I made it work. When you love something like that, you make it work no matter what the circumstances are.”
She smiles slightly, picking up the phone again. Another one of Christopher’s picture pops up. “I don’t regret losing my family or friends. Hell, I don’t even regret Marco. Christopher makes up for it every day.”
“Are you telling me to keep it?” I quietly ask.
“No. Not at all. I’m telling you that you can make it work. You’re smart. I have a sixth sense for these sorts of things. You don’t exactly belong behind some bar or as a streetwalker. You’ve got a head on your shoulders. And that guy out there, Bishop, he wouldn’t be that bad of a father. The guy sure cares about you.”
“What?” I ask in disbelief.
“Oh. Sorry. I just thought that since he was so concerned with you that you two are together and that he may be the father. I don’t want to imply anything…”
“No,” I admit. “You’re fine. I’m not sure who the father is, but I have a gut feeling it’s who you think it is.”
We both turn towards the door where Dig is still ranting about something. I hear the end of his sentence, “... she did it! There’s no other explanation if you’re not fessing up to it!”
“Get the fuck out of this house, Dig. When you get your fucking head on your shoulders, you can come back, but until then…”
There are shouts from a group of men followed by a door slamming. I listen as some voices move from inside the house to out of it.
Abby stands and looks out of the window. “I think this is my cue to leave,” she notes. “I’m not getting hazard pay for this.”
She goes over my instructions, reminding me at least ten or twelve times to rest and not stress.
In the end, I say, “Thanks, for everything, Abby. I hope we meet again.”
Her crooked smile says it all.
“Please remember what I said. You can do this, if it’s what you want.” With that, she walks out the door.
I listen as she speaks with Bishop. I can’t make out a word due to the noise of the crowd still inside the living room, but I trust her. She’s only going to tell him what he needs to know.
When she leaves, Bishop’s shadow pauses outside my door. I curl up in the blankets as I watch his hand reach for the doorknob, but he doesn’t open it any further. Someone calls his name, and he’s back to being club president.
I shut my eyes tight and try to let everything fade out. For now, I’m going to take Nurse Abby’s advice and rest. I’m going to need it for what I need to do later tonight.
Hours pass. The morning sun comes out and then sets again. I’m vaguely aware that he’s with me, lying by my side. His hand occasionally reaches over to me, finding its way to my hand and side. I pretend to roll over near him, but really all I want is to smell his smell and feel his warmth. Here, I am safe.
More time passes—how much, I’m not sure. But when I hear him stir again, the sun is fully out, and the winter birds chatter outside. A hand reaches for my cheek, brushing gingerly around the bruise near the top of my head. I lean into the weight, not holding back a smile anymore. The bed vibrates with his soft laugh.
Bishop whispers, “I thought you were dead.”
“No. You can’t kill me off that easily,” I reply.
“I wouldn’t dare try. So far, you’ve made it through two shoot-outs and not a damn scratch on you… Besides that shiner.” He points a thick finger square at the center of my head and laughs again.
“Well, I’ve been lucky—I have you to protect me.”
“I’d agree with that.” He rolls onto his back and looks up at the ceiling. Within a moment, something passes—a thought or an idea. His jaw slides from side to side; something he does when he’s hesitating or holding back. I’ve seen him do this thing whenever he needs to compose himself or hold back anger. A bit of nausea washes over me as I push myself up to a sitting position.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I ask. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“With your mouth. You do that when you’re about to tell someone off or something.”
He doesn’t deny it. “I have something to ask you, and I’m not really sure how to do it. Just know this question isn’t coming from me, but I’d be a shit president if I didn’t ask it once the accusation is out there.”
He takes a deep breath and continues, “Yesterday, Dig laid it out there, in front of the entire club higher-ups, that I planned the attack last night—got those two guys killed in cold-blood. When I could prove I wasn’t involved, he pointed the finger at someone else.”
The blood drains from my face as I ask, “Who?”
“You.” He pauses to look me over. I’m sure he’s trying to figure out if I’m lying. There are little things you can do; little tells you can see when you know where to look. But I shake my head in disbelief.
“Listen, it’s like I said… I have to ask you, Jane, er, Rivet. It’s my job. I don’t think you’d do it, but he—”
“Why would I do such a thing?”
“He thinks you’re working with the Snakes.”
“What!”
“He thinks you wanted Viper dead so you could get out of the club or shack up with someone else. He told this story about how you went to the Halloween party without Viper’s per
mission, and that’s when and how you did it. You were working against us from the beginning.”
“The Halloween party?” My breath feels like it’s been sucked out of my already scratched and parched throat. “I—”
“I know; it’s insane. I mean, you were with Viper. You had a pretty shitty relationship, but you wouldn’t have gone and done him wrong like that, let alone stabbed him in the back by working with the snakes.”
HITMAN’S SURPRISE BABY Page 43
