by Max Henry
“Go,” she snaps, breaking the awkward standoff. “If you need to go, then go. Don’t let me hold you up.”
I ignore the shame and disappointment her words instill in me and drop my head to ask, “Can you please tell Elena—”
“No! Don’t you dare give her some bullshit reason why you have to leave her alone after all she’s been through.”
I glare at her, angry she cut me off as if I’m some ill-behaving child. “Mom.”
“No.” She points a tanned finger toward the drive. “Go. Let me take care of your mess, like I have for the past twenty-four years. What’s once more for prosperity, huh?”
I swallow hard, rooted to the spot. I want to say something that’ll justify what I’m doing, but the anger emanating from the slight woman is a formidable force—a mother’s ire. Nothing to be messed with, that’s for sure.
She speaks with the same sentiment as Elena did. “You walk out that door, Lloyd, and you’re telling this woman that she’s not the top priority in your life.”
“You don’t understand,” I growl. Fuck, does anyone? “I’m doing this for her.”
“Are you sure about that?” she levels. “If your best intentions were this woman right now, you’d shake that God damn vest off your back and give it to your friends. You’d walk away from that group of criminals and make a proper life for her like you’ve told me you want to.”
“They’re good people, Mom. But narrow minds like yours wouldn’t want to see that. No, you’d rather brandish them all with a fuckin’ name they don’t deserve, all because of the actions of a few.” I shake my head, ashamed to have spoken to her in such a manner, but frustrated enough to. “Have you even spoken to Dad about what I’m tryin’ to do?”
“No,” she responds, taken aback. “Why would I?”
“Talk to him, Mom. Talk to Dad and you’ll understand why I can’t walk away, why I can’t let this go.” I step toward her, and she flinches as I reach out to wrap a hand around the back of her head. I tug her into my chest and place a doting kiss on the top of her head. “Love you, Mom.”
“Just be careful. For me, but most of all for that woman who’s scared out of her mind, even though she won’t admit it.”
“I will.” Always for her.
TWENTY-ONE
Elena
“There’s more where that came from if you’re still hungry.” King’s mom stoops to lift the empty plate from the end of the bed.
“That was perfect, thank you.”
Her nurse friend had arrived early the same morning King left, still wearing her uniform from the shift she’d finished at midnight. I don’t think I drew breath until she’d placed the portable ultrasound machine aside and given me the smile that would ensure my world kept turning.
Baby was okay. Heartbeat was strong, and movement was detected during the scan.
I’d called King immediately from this parents’ house phone, angry that he’d walked out on me, but still selfless enough to want to let the father of my child know that everything was fine. He didn’t answer. Who knew what could have happened in the hours that had passed since he walked out his parents’ door?
Three days have passed, and still no response. It burns. He’s done it again: walked away from me when I need him the most. As caring as his mother has been, I can’t shake the feeling of being out of place, of being a square peg trying to settle in a round hole. This isn’t my family, and until a few days ago, I’d never met them.
“Well, if you’d like something to drink I can bring you some ice water, tea maybe? What’s your poison?” King’s mom stands in the doorway, one hip leaned into the wooden frame.
“Water would be lovely, thank you. I think I might sleep for a bit, if that’s okay?”
Why can’t he call me back? How hard would it be for him to let me know that he’s okay?
She straightens up to leave, but I stall her with a burning question, “Have you heard from him?”
She shakes her head and stares down at the floor. “Only a brief call night before last to make sure you were okay.”
I push the betrayal at him choosing to contact his mother, and not asking to speak with me, aside. “What did you say?”
She snickers. “The truth. That he better get his God-fearing ass back here and focus on you.”
“You worry about him too, though?” I shift aside as she walks across and takes a seat on the bed beside me.
“It’s my job as his momma to worry.” She studies her hands that still hold the plate firmly in their grasp. The pads of her fingers are white with the force she applies to the ceramic dish. “No sense in two of us losing hair over it all though, is there?”
“I guess not.”
“You’re perfectly entitled to be angry at him, Elena. You don’t have to hide it because I’m his mother. I won’t be upset with you.”
In true maternal fashion, she’s managed to sense my greatest hesitation and set my mind at ease. “I don’t want to hate him, though. I love him. But I’m so damn let down. I feel . . . like I don’t matter.”
“I know it’s not the same, but his father used to be a complete workaholic.” She laughs bitterly. “Aw, hell, he still is, but it’s not as bad as it was when we were first married. I almost divorced him because I felt like the dang tractor got more attention than me.”
I smile at the visual.
“Anyway,” she continues. “I get how you feel. Although he says it’s to help you both, and he’s never been one to lie.”
“I know. He’s said it a lot, but I guess all the time I had without him, stuck with a man who’d sooner have me dead than taking up wasted space in his house, gave me too much time to come up with a fantasy of how it would be when we were finally able to be together.” I smile and look away. “It feels so strange talking with you about this.”
“Nonsense.” She pats my legs through the covers. “Life comes with many complications. And if anything, a relationship is built on both understanding and obligation. You owe something to one another, but at the same time that other person can’t take you for granted—they need to return the favor.”
“Do you think he takes me for granted?” I frown, sure that all the risks he’s taken for me qualify as returning the favor. Perhaps it’s me who needs to do more?
“I think he focuses too much on problems that can be sorted another time, but then again, I don’t know what they do at that club of theirs other than it’s the kind of stuff that could land a man in jail at times.” She sighs, staring down at the plate. “You need to do what feels right for you, love. You have to look after yourself before you can be of any use to him.” Her lips purse as she pauses. “And you have to do what’s right for the wee one.”
I rest my hands on my belly as King’s mom stands. The epiphany hits me hard: I need to take a page from King’s book. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll sacrifice my own happiness to ensure that not a hair on this child’s head is harmed. Staying here, being involved with the life King will never leave, will ensure that I’m forever checking twice that I’ve locked the doors at night.
“Have you got a feeling on what you’re having?” King’s mom nods at my stomach.
I shrug. “Had a feeling it was a boy, but then there are days when I feel relaxed and at peace and I wonder if they’ll be a girl.”
“I couldn’t pick what I was having, either time.” She smiles. “Both as different as could be. Garret kicked like a mule, whereas Lloyd would flutter every now and then to remind me he was in there. I had the worst morning sickness with Garret though . . .” She breaks out of her reminiscing and trains a worried gaze on me. “Are you ill in the mornings? I can mix up something to help ease your stomach if you like, help you sleep a bit longer?”
I shake my head, choked up at how kind she is to me, a woman who’s come unexpectedly into her life and thrown it off-course down a steep and rocky path. I can see where King gets his compassionate nature.
“I’m sorry, but aft
er all this time I still don’t know your name,” I say. “King’s always called you Mom, and I guess with how I arrived we forgot to introduce ourselves properly.”
“I suppose we did.” She chuckles. “My name’s Adeline. But everyone calls me Addie.”
“Thank you, Addie, for taking me in. I really appreciate your help, and I promise I won’t be a burden for too long.”
She closes her eyes and sighs as though she’s had to explain what she says next a thousand times already. “Honey, you’re no burden. What kind of grandmamma would I be if I sent the mother of my grandchild off to fend for herself when we had room in our house for her and all the time in the world to spare?”
The constriction in my throat won’t lessen, no matter how many times I swallow. “I can’t keep doing this, though.”
“Doing what?” She tips her head to the side, studying me as though I’m some sort of curiosity.
“Coming second to his life with the club. Wondering why it is he chooses them over me when I need him most.”
She answers me with silence.
“I don’t know what to do.” My gut churns, the thought of simply having to make a decision too much to bear. “I love him, and I want to be with him, but I can’t stand it when he leaves me like this.”
“Granted he isn’t handling it well,” she grumbles. “He could at least call you.”
“I asked him to stay for the check-up.”
She frowns. “And he didn’t.”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t unfair of me to ask, was it?”
“Honey, you could ask him to take a holiday to the Bahamas for a week and you’d be totally justified. From what he’s said, you two have been through hell to be together so it’s only natural you’d expect him to put you on a damn pedestal for a while.”
I smile weakly. “I don’t expect him to put everything aside for me, I just . . .” I sigh, frustrated at not being able to find the right choice of words. “I guess I wanted to sit down and talk through where to from here, to make a plan for us, for this child, and know how we’re going to manage things from here on out, you know?”
“I know.” She reaches across to take my hand in hers. “I understand.”
“When he doesn’t call, when he puts them before me, it kind of makes me wonder if he thinks I’m worth it. Maybe deep down he wants something else but he’s too afraid to admit it to himself?”
“Of course you’re worth it.” Her serious “mom” voice is in full effect. “You tell me why you’re not, Elena.”
I stare at her for a moment, my heartbeat quickening. Why? “Because I brought this on myself,” I explain. “I knew my husband was bad news the minute I saw him, and yet I let him fool me. I dragged the wool over my own eyes, all for the chance at marrying an endless supply of money to send back to my mama.” A bitter laugh erupts from my throat as I shake my head at the bare simplicity of it. “Bet he didn’t tell you that. I was nothing but a gold digger, Addie, and now karma has come back to bite me in the ass.”
“That’s not karma,” she admonishes quietly. “Karma is getting back from the universe what you put out into it.” She lowers herself to the edge of the mattress once more. “This hate, this penance your husband inflicted on you . . . did you do the same to anyone else? Did you put that out there?”
I know she thinks she has me, that I’ll say no and she can prove my theory wrong. Which is why her confused reaction comes as no surprise when I answer a whispered, “No, but I treated people wrongly. I put my own goals and aspirations before what was right. I was selfish.”
“How? From what Lloyd’s told me you were stuck in a bad situation. He said—”
“He’s told you about the good times, I bet. He’s probably given you all my redeeming points to make me sound worthy of your help.” She shakes her head, disagreeing, but I continue, the revelation sending adrenaline coursing through me as I finally slot it all together for myself. “I shouldn’t be mad at him,” I say, explaining it to her as much as sounding it out loud for myself. “I’m angry because he walked away to do right by his club, to follow the rules and ask for help the right way before he unleashed this chaos. But you know what?” She shrugs, lost in my ramblings. “I did the same to him. He held out a hand and offered me safe haven, and I pushed him away because I wanted to do right by mama. I told him to wait, that we’d have our happy ending, just like he told me.” Addie opens her mouth to speak but I carry on, not wanting to lose a single train of thought. “Everything he did to me, I did to him first. And yet I blamed him for where we are now. He blames himself for where we are now, and it’s not his fault.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. I don’t fully understand what happened, but I’m sure neither of you are to blame for what this madman did to you.”
“No,” I argue, scooting to the side of the bed. “We both had the opportunity to end this before it began, and both of us chose to stick it out in the name of doing the right thing for people we loved. Why is he cleaning up my mess, Addie? Why is he solely facing the consequences of what we both did?”
“Honey . . .” She sets the plate aside, and reaches for my arms to coax be back into bed. “You need rest. The baby’s fine, but your body has been through a lot. You need your strength.”
“I need to stop him doing this. It’s not his problem to solve.” A crazy smile graces my lips as I finally figure out the root of all my frustrations. “I’m mad at him for going because he doesn’t have to. Because if he let me deal with my own mess he wouldn’t have to leave me to ask his club for help.”
Addie stands, body-blocking me from getting out of bed. “You’re in no position to be fighting battles. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, honey, but you’re pregnant. What are you going to do? Rush around like a damn trained assassin to seek revenge on a man who’s more capable of killing than you are? A man who sounds as though he’d gladly squash you like a damn beetle under his shoe?” She shakes her head with finality. “You will do two things, young lady: get in this bed and sleep, and leave the dangerous work to my son. How do you think he’d feel if you were hurt bad enough to lose that child you share? What do you think that would do to Lloyd? You don’t want to know what I’d do if you harmed that child.” She huffs out a heavy breath and regards me with her hands on her hips. “Just leave the gunfights and body-hiding to the experts, huh? Your job is to make sure that child gets the best start in life as possible.”
My jaw drops at her candor, and she laughs.
“Yes, I know the kinds of things those boys get up to when situations go bad like this. I’m not as sweet and naïve as Lloyd would like to think.” She pauses as the humor drains from her face. “I just choose not to think about it, is all. Sometimes it’s easier to bury my head in the sand for the sake of keeping my sanity.”
“He knows how to look after himself,” I say in a vain attempt to console her. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Or am I consoling myself?
She gives me a weak smile as she picks up the plate. “He will be because he knows I won’t stand for both my children going to the grave before I do.” Her eyes well with tears before she turns her back to hide them from me. “I’ll bring you that water now. You go ahead and get yourself comfortable.”
TWENTY-TWO
King
I’ve heard people say that fate is a looming force, that you feel it in your bones. That shift in the universe, the sense that something isn’t right, that something won’t last . . . I try to push the unease aside as I stare out at Abbey doing her job, cleaning up after the pigs who leave food scraps and empty bottles lying around as if they’re living at a fucking frat house, not having a roof provided over their heads for nothing more than a little of the one thing they lack—respect.
My thumb hovers over the screen of my phone. I’ve almost called Elena a hundred times in the last five days, but what would I say? I relented and spoke to Mom instead. I’m not sure if that was a good thing or bad, considering the dressing down I got. Yeah,
she informed me that the baby’s okay and let me know that although Elena is tired, she’s well. But I also hung up from my conversation with Mom in no doubt as to how much of a class-A asshole I am. The guilt and shame that turn my stomach over stop me from ringing again, stop me from finding the right words to tell Elena how sorry I am yet at the same time explaining why this has to be done.
Apex is off the rails. He didn’t show up to the club until my fourth day here. The structure of the Fallen Aces is crumbling around us. Beefy has done what he can to keep some semblance of order around the place, but people are taking liberty with the fact we have no clear leadership in-house. Club resources are being used without any consideration for what it takes to have them replaced. Members have stolen food from the pantry to flesh out their own groceries, and the prospects appear to be having a hard time remembering the rules.
Somebody has to stand up and take control of the place, and soon. Somebody they’ll all listen to. Fuck knows Beefy can’t be everywhere at once.
“There’s fuck all to eat around here.” Callum comes to a stop beside my position leaned up against the wall beside the pool table.
“That’s because nobody’s thought to order more food in.”
He grunts. “I thought Beefy had eaten it all.”
I roll my eyes. “What do you think Apex has been up to these past days?” I eye his closed office door.
“Fuck knows, but that nomad fucker hasn’t been anywhere to be seen for a couple, either.”
True. Grime left not long after the altercation between Apex and myself. If pres really does want to vote him onto the board, the guy better show up soon. “That might be a good thing, though.”
“I’d say so.” Callum runs a hand around the back of his neck. “Hooch said he’ll ride home tomorrow, see what his old man has to say about what’s going on here. Try and get back up next week.”
