by Racquel Reck
Bebe holds the door open. “We’re heading out.”
Gretchen makes her way across the room, but stops to look back at me. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay while you wrap up the financial report?”
“Na, you two go ahead. Tryst and Morgan are picking me up in twenty.” I hit print. “Besides, I still have to get ready.”
Gretchen nods and heads out the door.
Bebe follows behind, but looks back at me. “Lock this door after I leave. And for God’s sake, don’t wait outside for Morgan and Tryst.”
With my keys in hand, I head over to lock up. “I’m not stupid. They still haven’t caught the guy who annihilated Morgan’s Hummer.” I found out it wasn’t Gary personally who did it. He was at Sasha’s. Apparently, he’s staying with her now. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hired a couple of his thugs to do it.
Bebe gives me a hug and rubs my belly. “Well, be careful.” She bends down to my belly. “You’re about to have some fun, little baby. I bet you’re a dancer, just like your mom.”
We still don’t know what we’re having. The appointment for that ultrasound is the day after tomorrow. Morgan’s going to miss it. Tears pool in my eyes. There’s no need to cry. The doctor’s going to put the sex of the baby in an envelope and I’m going to Face Time with Morgan when I open it. Still, not the same.
“Aw… Sweetie, it will be okay.” Bebe hugs me. “It’s only for three months. And by the time he gets back, you’ll be almost ready to pop.”
I nod. “I know. Blame it on my hormones.” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, then take a deep breath.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait here with you?” She takes my hands in hers.
“Hurry up!” Gretchen’s half in, half out of her car. “I wanna get my drink on.”
“No.” I let her hands go. “It’s okay. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
Bebe’s blue eyes soften. “I hate leaving you like this.”
“Go.” I push her through the door in the direction of the car. “I’m fine.”
She gives me one last wary look, then waves and climbs in the passenger side of Gretchen’s mustang.
“’Bout freaking time.” Gretchen ducks back in, and in a matter of moments their taillights turn left onto Woodward Ave.
Bebe’s right. Three months are nothing. I can do this. It doesn’t make this night any easier, though. Saying goodbye to Morgan is something I don’t ever want to get used to. Tonight I’m going to make our last hours together count. I silently thank Timikia for taking Ben and remind myself to call him before I head out.
#####
All set and ready. I called Ben and said goodnight. He was so excited about spending time with Max, it was a quick conversation. It's good to know that he's not dwelling on the fact that Morgan will be gone.
I pace in front of my shop looking out the window. It’s dark and I can’t see a thing through the glass. I cup my hand and look out at the cars going by, hoping one of them is Tryst’s truck. They were supposed to be here by now. I step back and reach into my satchel for my phone. No missed calls, and they’re ten minutes late.
Butterflies zoom around in my stomach. I’m excited to spend time with Morgan, and as each minute ticks by, it’s a minute lost. Our time tonight is precious. I see high headlights in the distance. That has to be Tryst’s truck.
I hit the lights and head out. As I lock the door, I hear a truck pull up.
A door slams.
“You look amazing, Bay.”
I freeze.
Every cell inside me zaps and shorts out.
Gary.
My heart drops into my stomach and tumbles with a mixture of anger and fear. Staring at the interior of my dark shop, I keep myself from confronting him. Why is he here? If I don’t face him, Gary won’t leave. I inhale deeply and turn around.
He’s leaning against a truck and grins. The leather biker vest with the River Rats patch, makes him even more ominous. He shoves off the hood of the beat-up pickup and slowly steps toward me. His eyes travel my body, making my skin feel like a ton of spiders are dancing across it. “Going somewhere?”
“Actually, yes. Morgan should be here any minute.” Don’t show fear. It’s easier said when you don’t have the Big Bad Wolf staring you down.
“Have him trained, do you?” Gary snickers. “He’s a pussy, letting you run him like that.”
“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops.” I hold up my phone so he can see. “I have them on speed dial.”
Gary laughs. “You don’t want to do that.” He moves closer. ”You know how long it takes for them to show up. We’re in the ghetto, Bay.”
I back up to the glass door of my shop. My breath hitches as my pulse pounds. Where the hell is Morgan? I’m about to hit the button—
“I wouldn’t.” Gary cages me in with his arms. “Ben’s having fun at Timikia’s tonight and I’d hate to have to break up that party.”
I stop. The blood drains from my face in a rush.
Gary chuckles and moves in close to my ear. His hot breath on my neck twists my gut as he whispers, “I have six of my boys watching the house. They won’t hesitate to take him if I give the word. And my friends are faster than the cops.”
I drop my phone into my satchel. Defeated. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t risk Ben being carted off by biker thugs. Fear turns to panic and has me shaking in the warm June air.
Gary runs a finger down the side of my face. “Good girl.”
Bile tries to creep up my throat and I bite it back. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” He laughs. “I think you already know what I want.” His hands travel up my inner thigh and disappear under my jean skirt. “You, twice a week. However I want you.”
I slap at his hand, but he tightens his hold. My heart’s in my throat. Where the fuck is Morgan?
Gary licks my earlobe, and shivers of revulsion travel through me and twist my stomach.
The banging in my chest sends adrenaline through me. I try to pry him off.
It works for a second until he grabs me by the throat and slams my head into the glass window hard enough to cause an explosion of pain but not forceful enough to break the window. “You will do this. Or my thugs will have fun with Timikia and take Ben.”
I go statue-still. “Do what?”
Before I can stop him, his lips are crushing mine. I try to push him off me, but he leans in further, pressing my body against the glass door so I can’t move. I keep my mouth shut as his disgusting tongue licks the seam of my mouth. My stomach rolls and my phone goes off. I struggle against him, but he won’t let go. I fist my hands into his hair to try and pry him off.
He grabs the back of my head and keeps our lips locked. “Open your mouth, Bay. Or they’ll take Ben and I’ll rape you anyway.”
He’s serious. I’m not stupid. I feel sick and my gut churns as I open my mouth and accept his slimy tongue.
“Like you mean it, Bay. Prove to me I’m better than Fuck Face.” He licks the side of my mouth and his fingers move up my thighs to brush my panties. “Cause you’ll dump him or I’ll kill him.”
I stop breathing.
He’s serious. The truth is in his eyes, and his gang has killed plenty of narks in the past and gotten away with it. I’m his property, in his mind, and he will do anything to keep it. I’d never forgive myself if Morgan ended up at the bottom of Lake St. Clair.
I have to protect him. I have to protect Ben. This is not about my heart because that’s already breaking with what I’m about to do.
He pulls my mouth to his. I choke back a gag. He has to buy this. I have to make Gary believe I mean it. So I fist my hands in his hair and eat his mouth. The vomit in the back of my throat slowly rises, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. It takes everything I have to force myself to. This is for Ben and for Morgan.
Twenty-six
Morgan
Glancing at the time on Tr
yst’s radio, I’m a little more than ten minutes late. Shay’s going to kill me. Band practice ran over and my stupid ass forgot to charge my phone. I have to wait until it charges up enough to turn it on, so I hold Tryst’s cell to my ear. The ringing is becoming obnoxious. Why the hell isn’t she answering her phone?
“No luck?” Tryst glances at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Nope.” I hang up the phone as we turn off Woodward Ave. “We’re almost there anyway.” I throw his phone into the center console and look down to find the present I got her.
I’m jolted forward.
Tryst’s truck is idling.
“What the fuck, Tryst?” I look up.
Tryst’s jaw is clenched, and his hands white-knuckle the steering wheel.
I follow his eyes to see what’s got him all hyped up, and anger slams into me faster than the jolt I received when Tryst put on the brakes.
Shay is kissing Gary.
She has her hands in Douche bag’s hair, and it looks like she’s really getting into it. He’s pushing her into the shop’s front window, rubbing up against her, and she’s allowing it. In fact, it looks like she’s pretty into it.
No. I don’t believe it. She wouldn’t do that to me.
“I’m gonna kill that motherfucker.” My voice is a menacing growl. My fists shake with the urge to hit something. Preferably Asshole’s face. I go for the door handle.
“No.” Tryst throws the truck into drive faster than I can open the door.
“He’s forcing her.” He has to be. “I need to save her.” Why won’t he stop the goddamn truck?
Tryst clicks on his blinker and turns onto a side road. “She doesn’t need saving. Fuck!” Tryst slams his fist on the center console. “I thought it’d be different this time.”
“She needs our fucking help!”
Tryst slams on the brakes.
I reach for the door handle. Before I know it, I’m running down the road. I skid as I turn the corner, then plow into Gary, knocking him to the sidewalk. My fists are flying. As he blocks me, the cocksucker laughs. It fuels my rage even more. His face is bloody, his lips and eyes are swollen, and he’s fucking laughing?
Shay is screaming. Telling me to get off Gary.
I plow my fists into his face. When he blocks one, I sneak another. I can’t see anything besides the asshole I’m pummeling. Every noise gets muted as my fury flies.
My jaw explodes in pain. Before I can get another lick in, Gary flips me. Here we go again. Round two of the smack-down. My arms go up to block him. He hits my forearms with the force of a Ping-Pong ball—Dude’s weak. Maybe that’s why he beats on chicks. I counter each punch with ease and then he vanishes.
Where’d the fu— Oh.
Tryst has his scrawny ass by the throat and is holding him high in the air. His skinny legs are kicking and his face is going from cherry red to purple.
That’s right, Tryst. Pop that pimple. I brace my arms behind me and flip up off the ground. My vision is clear and I can hear all the treats Tryst is shouting in Fucker’s face.
Shay hangs onto Tryst’s biceps. Black rivers flow down her face. “Let him go. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Tryst stares at her, a cold void emanating from his eyes, and a scowl on his face. Shit. If I didn’t know any better I’d say Tryst would have no probs with snapping Douche bag’s neck.
I wanna fucking do it. My body’s shaking with barely contained fury.
Tryst looks back at the asshole dangling in his grip. “I could kill him right now, and your problems would be over.”
“No.” Shay shakes her head back and forth frantically. “You don’t know what’s going on. Please.” She begs. “Don’t do it.”
It’s then that I remember just how into that eat-face session she was. Everything inside me goes ice cold, and I realize that she’s as guilty for that stomach-turning lip action as he is. The rage that was already there grows so tight, everything in me snaps. “What the fuck, Shay?”
She whirls on me, her eyes pleading for fuck face’s life. “I love him.”
A fucking cannon ball blasts into my stomach. She can’t love him. Not after everything he’s done to her. Everything I’ve done for her.
“He’s Ben’s father, and we are going to give us another shot.”
“You don’t mean it.” Does she?
Nothing in her posture or face tells me that she is lying. “I do. I shouldn’t have messed around with you. I was insane to think anyone could replace Gary.”
She just blew a fucking hole right through my chest. She stands there, round with my baby, and tells me she’s going to be with Asshole? There’s so much I want to yell at her, but can’t form the words. She’s not who I thought she was.
“Your mother was right.” Tryst locks his glare on Shay and drops Douche bag on his ass. “You’re a lost cause.”
Tryst even believes her? This can’t be right. I’m in some fucked-up nightmare and need to wake the hell up.
Asshole wheezes and grabs his throat.
Shay runs over to him and gives him her arm.
“Shay?” This has to be a ploy. She doesn’t mean this, does she?
“You were fun.” She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “But that’s all you ever were.”
Those tears aren’t for me—they are for Asshole. Why the hell on earth didn’t I listen to my gut? She lied to me this whole time. Telling me there was no competition between me and Ben’s sperm donor.
“You lied to me?” That’s not right. She wouldn’t lie about her feelings, would she? Anger overrides my common sense and forces me toward them. “We had something. A connection. I know you felt it.” I grab Shay’s arm. “He’s playing you.”
She jerks it out of my grip and glares at me through bloodshot eyes.
Gary laughs. “You were the one who was played, bro.”
“I’m not your brother.” My fists clench to go another round with the cocksucker who thinks he can steal my woman. And she is my woman.
He stands with Shay’s help. “She only wanted you for your money. But since you ain’t dishing it out, she decided to come back to me.”
I don’t believe one word Asshole says. “You’re wrong.”
“He’s right.” Shay can’t meet my eyes. “I only wanted you for your money, ’cause of the baby.”
My chest seizes and the pounding restarts. Every beat is a damn miracle. I should be dead on the cement. No, I shouldn’t be. This isn’t a broken heart. She never cared about me, only my wallet size. Fucking bitch. “Fuck you both. Ben really hit the jackpot with you two.” And my baby won’t be a part of that. “If you think for one second I’m going to leave my child around this fucking—”
“You can have it,” Gary says, and Shay glares at him.
Yeah, bitch. What did you think an asshole like him was going to do? Be there for a kid that’s not his? She’s fucking stupid. “Surprised, Shay?”
She shakes her head. “No.” She lifts her chin and looks me directly in the eye. “In fact, I agree. When the baby’s born, I’ll sign it over to you. We have our family and the baby will be the odd one out.”
What? Christ, she’s just like my mom. Thinking of herself. Not giving a fuck about her kids. Ben never wanted Gary as a dad. He wanted me. I could see it every time we were together. He even slipped one time and called me “Dad.” It was a great feeling, and I pretended like he hadn’t said it. I wish I could take Ben, too. He doesn’t need to grow up in their world of fucked-up.
A hand lands on my shoulder. It’s Tryst. “We got somewhere to be.”
Like I feel like going there now. This can’t be right. She was so different before. I reach for her. “Shay.”
She backs away and curls under Asshole’s arm. “Have a good life, Morgan. Look me up in four months.”
Then, as if she’s trying to hurt me even more by slamming the truth into my skull, she nibbles scumbag’s neck.
Anger jolts me forward, but Tryst h
olds me back.
“Come on, dude.” He drags me toward the truck. “She made her choice and it wasn’t us.”
I look back. Gary is giving me the one-finger salute, and Shay is wrapped around him.
My stomach rolls with disgust and heartache. Climbing into Tryst’s truck, I slam the door. Once I’m seated, I gag. I put my elbows on my knees and bring my head down in between them.
The driver’s door slams and Tryst starts his truck. “Sit up, pussy.”
I glare at him.
“Women are nothing but trouble. You’d do good to remember that from now on.” He pulls out onto the street and laughs.
“What the fuck are you laughing for?” My nausea turns to instant rage.
“When I warned you away from her I was doing it for her benefit. Thought you’d hurt her.” He shakes his head.
“Hey.”
Tryst looks at me.
“Do me a favor, okay? Keep your jacked-up opinions—”
His truck jolts to a stop.
He cocks his head and stares at me; blank and emotionless. He cocks a brow. His glare sends shivers through me. A flash back to him holding Gary in the air, ready to snap his neck at any command. I turn my head and see why he stopped. Red light.
“You’re hurt. I get it. Now suck it up and move on.” He glances back at the road.
Very few scare the shit out of me, but this guy is in a category all his own. Maybe I should start shit with him. If he snaps and kills me, what else have I got to lose?
My baby.
Twenty-seven
Morgan
Coming out of the bathroom, I squeeze through a horde of my friends crowding the back hall. They slap my back and congratulate me on the band making it. I nod and say a few clipped words as I pass them, not in the mood for celebrating. I’m sick. I don’t want to be here. Despair wreaks havoc through all my emotions. I lost her. I wasn’t good enough for her. No, maybe I was too good. Maybe she never wanted good.
