by London Casey
“Dakota?”
I blinked, finally. “What did you say?”
“Sweetie, Kye is out of prison. All the charges were dropped. He didn’t do anything.”
I shook my head. “Wait a second. How…”
“Early in my days I used to work at the prison. I was a nurse there. Not the greatest job, but it was something. I made friends. I kept friends. One of those friends works at the prison. I’ve been keeping tabs on Kye. So… he’s out.”
“Just like that? How?”
“I told you, the charges were dropped.”
“That doesn’t make sense to me. Murder charges? No trial?”
Debbie grinned. She shrugged her shoulders.
“What?” I asked.
“Those are questions I can’t answer,” she said. “You know who can though.”
“Kye.”
“Yeah.”
I sighed and swallowed down a lump in my throat. I wasn’t trying to hide from Kye. I wasn’t going to hide Ellis from his father either. But I didn’t think…
“What’s going through that mind of yours?” Debbie asked.
“What to do now.”
“That’s the best part. Whatever you want to do, Dakota. You were afraid that Kye was a murderer. Well, he’s not. So what now?”
“He’s still part of that motorcycle club. That life. Maybe he is a murderer and he just somehow got lucky. This time.”
“Assuming does no good for anyone,” Debbie said. “Go by what you know. What you see.”
“How about what I feel?”
“What do you feel?”
I looked to the stairs, then back to Debbie. “I feel like my son should at least know his father.”
“There you go. Leave the club out of it. Leave all that life stuff gone. This is about your son. About you. About the family you could have.”
The family I could have.
I reached for my wine glass. “How much of this do you have left?”
Debbie let out a laugh. “I have plenty, sweetie. But that won’t fix a thing.”
“It’ll help make things disappear for a little while.”
“True. But reality always has a funny way of working itself back. Remember that.”
Debbie stood and took my then empty glass after I downed the last couple gulps. She touched my shoulder. I quickly grabbed for her hand. We hadn’t had an intimate moment like that since I was giving birth to Ellis.
“What would you do?” I asked.
“I can’t…”
“Just, please.”
“I would think about how I felt. When I met him. Not the life. But him. The man. How did it feel. How did he treat you. How did he care for his unborn son. It’s about the man. Not the outlaw.”
That was all Debbie had to say.
That’s all I needed to hear.
She walked away and I had a second to myself.
I wiped away a tear from my eye.
A minute later Ellis let out a cry that echoed through the baby monitor on the coffee table.
Upstairs, I found him partially awake. Nothing a hug from Mom couldn’t solve.
I rocked him and placed him down. I stared at the beautiful boy that I had given birth to. My heart and mind were engaged in a war that was silent on the outside.
Nothing else mattered but the health and safety of my son.
My son needed a father.
My son needed a man… even if that man was an outlaw.
chapter thirteen.
(kye)
Walking through the house felt like walking with a bunch of ghosts. Everything reminded me of Dakota. I heard all I could from Max and then decided to head to the house. I shouldn’t have ridden in my condition and I regretted the decision, even if it took me home. Suddenly I had thoughts of some asshole half drunk in a car causing an accident that could hurt my son.
I never cared for anything or anyone but myself.
I went upstairs and went to Dakota’s room. The bed was the same. Hell, the pillow still had a little bit of her smell. The last time she slept in that bed was when I was with her.
I tightened my hand around the pillow.
I opened the drawer and saw the phone I had given her. Max had been a loyal brother to me. He did exactly what I said to do, even if it sort of backfired against me.
That was okay though.
I’d make everything right.
I had the club in my corner. I had a clean slate out of prison.
I just needed to find my woman and my baby.
Leaving the room I walked to the nursery. I opened the door and waited to see them… Dakota holding the baby, surprising me. That didn’t happen though. There was no surprise. There was no woman. No baby.
Just a room.
A crib that was never used.
A changing table with dust on it.
My stomach felt empty and twisted, as though I had lost the baby. Like something bad had happened. Shit, I didn’t know if that were true or not. I asked Max to do me a solid and call in a favor from a friend named Scotty who was one of the best at finding people. He moved fast, silent, and was expensive.
I left the bedroom with my heart in my throat.
Downstairs I went for the kitchen and found an old bottle of whiskey. I twisted the cap off with one hand and started to go to work. Three big gulps in and noticed something from the corner of my eyes.
Paper on the table.
A pen left stranded next to the paper.
I walked to the table and turned the notebook to face me using just one finger.
It was a list of names.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered.
The last time I saw Dakota I told her to make a list of names for our son. And she had listened to me. Shit, I had told her to do that just to occupy some of her time. I knew she was getting restless just being in bed all the time. The truth was that I had no intentions of naming my son until I met him. The second I lifted him into my arms, that’s when I’d name him.
But Dakota made a list…
Jeffrey. Jackson. Andrew. Blaine. Chase. Devon.
There wasn’t a single name that jumped out at me but I knew my son had a name. Maybe a name from that piece of paper. Maybe a different name.
Thinking about it brought another image to my mind.
Dakota giving birth.
Alone.
Sitting up in a hospital bed, screaming, clutching at nothing because I wasn’t there to help her. The doctor talking to her. The nurses telling her she was doing great. But I fucking wasn’t there to speak the truth to her. To show her she was safe and would remain safe. And how the fuck could I offer her protection when my ass got locked up for a murder I didn’t commit? That was how the club was supposed to work.
My hand curled and I ripped a few pages out of the notebook. I balled them up and threw them. I grabbed the whiskey bottle and took another big gulp.
A rage built up inside me and ended with me screaming one word.
“Fuck!”
My voice boomed through the house.
I saw red as I charged through the living room and turned for the stairs. Somewhere out there Dakota had my son. My child. The life I created. I never did anything wrong to her or for her. And yet she had taken off on me. She should have talked to Max and let the club help her. We were outlaws but we weren’t murderous pricks. Not like that old war her old man got caught up in and tagged for.
“Goddammit!” I growled as I threw my shoulder into the nursery room door.
It blasted open and smacked against the wall.
I took another drink of whiskey.
Somewhere in my head I heard a voice screaming my name.
But I was focused on the room.
Had I wanted to get Dakota pregnant? Fuck no. I could have dropped my seed and bounced. I could have left her hanging with nothing but fear and a lack of hope.
I grabbed the changing table and shook it. Two diapers fell to the floor. They were so goddamn tiny. I crouched and picke
d one up. It had a little blue band around the waist. Another line down the middle. During a moment that was almost normal Dakota told me that the stripe down the middle would turn a different color when the baby took a piss so we’d know to change him.
I laughed. She laughed. We were sitting on the floor of the room.
I ripped the diaper open and tried to tear it like a sheet of paper. It didn’t give so I threw it behind me. I spun around and cleared the shelves of the changing table. Then I dumped the changing table facedown.
Above that was a picture of a yard with a baby blue hot air balloon. Dakota loved the picture. I made a fist and put it through the picture, shattering the glass, cutting my knuckles.
I turned and walked to the crib. I gripped the edge of the crib, blood running down my right knuckles to my fingers. A few droplets fell to the light blue blankets on the bed. The untouched blankets. The unused crib. Yet my son was out there, with his Dakota. And who else?
I heard the voice again yelling my name.
I pulled at the crib, dragging it to the middle of the room. I was going to break the fucking thing into a million pieces. Just like the way I felt on the inside. Broken into a million fucking pieces.
I let out a yell and lifted the crib. As I started to turn I felt arms clasp around me, driving me to my left. Next thing I knew I was in a stumbling free fall sort of feeling, ending with me smashing into the wall. I turned my head and saw Max staring at me. His eyes were wide.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he screamed at me.
I jabbed my right elbow into his gut. He let out a groan. I threw my head toward his face, trying to smash his nose. We ended up banging skulls together and that did not feel good. Between that and the whiskey, the room started to spin.
Max let me go, jumped back, and threw his hands forward, tossing me into the wall again. I lunged at him, clocking his jaw with a left hook. He punched me in the gut, taking me to my knees. He then fell in front of me and grabbed my leather cut.
“Listen to me!” he growled. “Right now, Kye! Fucking listen!”
I gritted my teeth.
I wanted to tear Max apart but I had no good reason to do so. He didn’t do anything wrong to me. Or to Dakota. Or to my son. He did exactly what I asked him to do. And now I was going to, what, fight him?
Right then I was stuck between throwing another fist or just breaking down into tears.
“Kye… lock eyes with me, brother.”
I did.
Then he said five words that changed my life for forever.
“I know where she is.”
**
I stopped dead in my tracks and surveyed what could have been an even bigger mistake. Trashing the baby’s room would have gotten me what? Nothing. I broke away from Max and walked to the crib. I slid it back into place. I reached down and grabbed the baby blue blanket and lifted it up. There were specs of blood on it. It probably was ruined.
“Where is she?”
“Closer than you think, brother,” Max said. “I need you to be calm. You took off from the clubhouse and I tried to follow you.”
“I don’t need that shit right now, Max. The celebration. The party. The women.” I looked over my shoulder. “I never thought I’d say that.”
Max half grinned. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“She stayed local?” I asked.
“She did.”
I turned and dropped the blanket. I flexed my right hand and saw the blood had already stopped. I folded my arms, my heart still pounding in my chest.
“How did you find out?” I asked.
“I have my ways,” Max said. “I tried as much as I could while you were inside. I came here a few times. She came here once with the baby like I told you. I tried to talk to her. I could have stopped her, bro, but I didn’t want to hurt her or the baby.”
“My son.”
“Your son. He’s a good looking baby. Not as ugly as you.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“She’s living with some woman about fifteen minutes from here.”
I stepped forward. “Let’s roll.”
Max threw a hand out and stopped me. “Whoa. Think about this for a second, man. You’re half drunk. You’re dirty. You damn near trashed your kid’s room. You don’t have four wheels…”
“Four wheels,” I said.
“What do you think you’re going to do? Ride up and get Dakota and the kid on the back of a motorcycle?”
I hung my head. “Okay, right. Fuck.”
“Brother, it’s going to work out,” Max said. “Just take a deep breath for a second.”
I lifted my head. “All I’ve been doing is breathing and surviving. I can’t take it anymore. On the inside for a crime I didn’t commit. Constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the next fight. Waiting for someone from the MC to come and help me. Trying to walk a fine line but stay alive.”
Max grabbed my shoulder. “You did it though. And Trev already told you we’re going to figure this out. We’re going to make this right. Right now you need to focus on your family. You have a family out there.”
“She wants nothing to do with the MC,” I said. “It wasn’t easy dealing with her for months.”
“But you did.”
“I need to see her. I need to talk to her. I missed the birth of my son.”
“You’re not going to miss his life,” Max said.
He turned and reached for the broken picture frame and plucked it off the wall.
I grabbed his arm. “I’ll do it,” I said. “This is my fucking mess, Max. Go downstairs. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Okay, Kye.”
“Hey, brother. Thank you for being so loyal. I handed you a phone and you helped me out.”
“Always,” Max said.
I spent the next little bit cleaning up the nursery and then went downstairs to find Max at the table, waiting for me with a bottle of whiskey. I had a few more drinks, trying to ease my mind.
But I knew all I needed to know.
Dakota was local. She had my son.
“I guess I need to get a truck or something, huh?” I asked with a grin.
“I know a guy,” Max said.
“We all know a guy,” I said. “I’ll have a truck by tomorrow. Then I’m going to see her. I’ve got to figure this out.”
“Do what you need to do, brother,” Max said. “You know the club is behind you.”
“I know,” I said. I lifted my shot glass one last time.
One more drink and my day - and night - was officially done.
I woke up in prison and was now going to sleep in my own bed.
Yet I didn’t feel any better.
Shit was still missing.
I just hoped Dakota knew what was about to happen to her life.
chapter fourteen.
(dakota)
I put Ellis down for a late morning nap, knowing I was messing up the rest of the schedule for the day. I couldn’t help it though. This Mama needed a break for a minute. Ellis had been super fussy, which had started last night and went through until morning. Debbie was tired when she filled her mug with coffee and left for work. The help was so appreciated but it drove me nuts she put herself on the line like that for my son.
I poured myself a fresh coffee after standing there watching it brew like a child watching toys through a glass window. I sat at the dining room table and let out a long sigh. I held the mug, feeling the heat spread to my hands and up my arms. Everything was a mess but there was nothing I could do to fix it. I just had to take my blessings as they came.
As I lifted the mug, ready for that first beautiful taste of coffee (without a crying baby) I started to smile.
That was the exact moment the doorbell rang.
I didn’t even get to take that beautiful sip. Last thing I needed was someone to keep ringing the doorbell and wake Ellis up.
I jumped up from the table and rushed to the door.
My han
d grabbed the handle and I turned the deadbolt. As I opened the door, I realized that it was a massive figure standing there. My heart and mind realized what was happening when it was too late. The door was open. And I was staring at him.
Kye.
Kye?
“Kye,” I whispered.
“Hey, darling,” he said in his rough outlaw voice.
My entire body started to shake.
I stepped back, my hand still on the door. Some sense of instinct kicked in and I caught myself slowly shutting the door. The most undramatic door slam in the world.
Kye put his hand to the door. “Easy. I think at the very least we owe each other a conversation.”
My mouth opened but nothing came out. Kye could have busted right into the house if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He just stood there.
He was tall, beautiful as ever, a wild outlaw. I could see some cuts and bruising that were in their final stages of healing. Were those from prison?
Right behind me to my left were the stairs that led to where Ellis was sleeping. Kye’s son… my son… our son.
“I would have contacted you,” Kye said, “but you were sort of hard to find. You didn’t come see me at all. You took off from Max.”
“What did you think I was going to do?” I finally asked. I found words. I found lots of words.
“I’m not sure. But you know I didn’t do anything wrong, right?”
“Define wrong,” I said.
Kye grinned. He reached for my hand. I pulled away.
“Okay, fine,” he said. “Look, I came here to talk to you. I’m not here to stir up any trouble. I’m sorry for the way things ended up. I had no idea what was happening. Okay? Police showed up and threw me into the back of the car. The next day I was shipped off to prison. My club helped to prove my innocence and here I am.”
“Murder,” I said. “You were taken in for murder, Kye.”
“Look me in the eyes, darling,” he said. “I did not commit murder.”
I believed him. I could see a mix of anger and pain in his eyes.
I stepped back and nodded. “Come in, Kye. We can talk. Just… the baby is sleeping.”
“My son?”
“Yes, Kye. Your son.”
He stepped into Debbie’s house and looked around. It occurred to me right then I had invited a stranger into a house that wasn’t mine. I thought about kicking Kye right back out but I knew that if Debbie were to come home she wouldn’t mind. After all, she had spent weeks trying to tell me how I needed to be open to Kye when the time came. And she was the one who told me he had gotten out of prison.
