Creed (A Blood Riders MC Novel Book 3)

by Tia Lewis

  “Great.” Drake tilted the receiver away from his mouth. “Do you want to start tomorrow night?”

  “Sure.”

  “Excellent,” he said, getting back to Bobby. “He’ll be there at eight.”

  Drake hung up with a smile.

  “So he’s all for it?”

  “He loves the idea. I think that he was a little more stressed out than he wanted me to know.”

  “Yeah, or he was afraid that we would pull out or something. I’m glad that we can work together on it instead of starting a war over our differences.”

  His grin slipped off his face. “But you’ve gotta clean up a little, man. I’m sorry, but that’s Bobby’s only rule. He’s going for high-class, all the way.”

  “I’ve been there. I get it.” When I walked in for cash pickups, people looked at me like they thought that I was there to panhandle. I didn’t take it personally. My look was one I had put together over time. I was supposed to look tough and, menacing. If I wanted to spend three nights a week in a high-class pussy palace, I had to make sacrifices.

  I ran a hand over my chin, chuckling. “I forget what I look like,” I admitted.

  “It’s been a long time. Now that you mention it, I barely remember what you look like without that beard. You’ll get used to shaving again.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “You’re more than just your facial hair.”

  I burst out laughing at how serious Drake sounded. “It’s no big deal,” I said. “Really.”

  I heard squealing in the lounge, and the two of us went out to see what was happening. Violet and Nicole were going crazy over a picture. Nicole looked up at us, smiling from ear to ear.

  “I was there! I got to hear the baby’s heartbeat! Look!” She waved around one of those ultrasound pictures. I looked at Tamara. She wouldn’t look at me.

  “You look like you belong here.” Brigitte smiled at me from her spot behind the front desk.

  It had been three weeks since I’d started playing bouncer at Bobby’s gentlemen’s club. What I never expected was how boring it would be. There wasn’t much to do. I couldn’t drink since I was working. I couldn’t talk to the girls because I was working. I couldn’t even work on learning the ropes of the business since I had to be available in case something happened. I couldn’t do much of anything except sit there and look intimidating so that they guys who came in would remember what happened to people who screwed around too much.

  And nobody did—whether that had anything to do with me, I didn’t know.

  I grinned at Brigitte. “I do?” I asked. “And there I was, thinking I would stick out.”

  “No, not at all. Well, you do stick out, now that you mention it. But not because you don’t belong, handsome.” She winked at me, then went back to the book that she was reading. I couldn’t help but watch her for a minute or two after she turned her attention away from me. It wasn’t that I wasn’t used to flirting with women—I did it all the time. It was like a hobby. I just wasn’t used to women like her flirting with me out of nowhere.

  Back in the day when I was in the service, I used to be quite the ladies’ man. I had a rock-hard body. I was disciplined. Nobody got in my way, ever. And women would nearly drop their panties when I walked into a room. Once I got back home, went through all that shit with Angie and got deeper into the club that changed. I didn’t even care about what women thought about me for a long time. When I started coming out of the hole that I was in, the women who came to me were all from the club. It didn’t matter who I was or if they even liked me. They just wanted to be an old lady. They wanted a part of club life no matter who they had to go through to get it. So even when women practically pushed each other out of the way to get a taste of my cock, I knew that it wasn’t because I was a catch or anything. They just wanted to be with somebody in the club.

  But Brigitte wasn’t like that. She didn’t need to act that way with me. Yeah, she was a whore—she didn’t always work the front desk—but she was a nice person, too. She wouldn’t fuck around with me just for something to do.

  I caught a look at myself in the mirror across from where I sat reading on my tablet. It was still weird, seeing myself without the beard. I ran a hand over my smooth cheeks. The one thing everyone said when they first saw me was that I looked ten years younger.

  They weren’t wrong.

  When I finished that night, after making sure to personally say goodbye to all the girls who weren’t working at the moment, I went back to the clubhouse to drop off that week’s cash. It was nice to feel the money bag get a little thicker each time that I collected it. Drake would be happy to know all our hard work was paying off.

  When I got there, Drake wasn’t in his office. The place was mostly empty. The TV was on in the lounge, which surprised me.

  “Hello?” I looked around, listening for any reply. When I didn’t hear one, I picked up the remote to turn off the TV. Just then, I heard footsteps coming down the hall.

  “Oh, hi.” Tamara froze when she saw me standing there. I took in the full sight of her—hair in a towel on her head, wrapped up in a huge bathrobe. She was getting bigger every day, but without one of her big, oversized shirts the size of her belly was evident.

  “Hey. I thought everybody had gone home already,” I said, putting the remote down. I rubbed my hands on my jeans, trying to get rid of the clammy feeling they got whenever I saw her. It had been weeks since the party for Jack, and I still hadn’t gotten over her being pregnant. I didn’t think that I ever would. I dropped my eyes, not wanting to look at her the way that she was.

  “Yeah, well, I just moved into a new place, and I’m waiting for the scent of the new paint to dissipate before I sleep there. Drake told me that I could stay in his old room.”

  “Oh. Cool. I’m gonna put the money in the safe and head out myself.” I was over this fucking conversation.

  I went straight to Drake’s office, closing the door. Why did my heart race the way it did when I was around her? Why did I feel out of breath, like I had just run a marathon? I hated feeling that way, and all because I had to talk to Tamara for a few seconds. I couldn’t stand the way that she made me feel. After I had put the money away, I wondered what to do next. She was probably out there on the couch, watching TV. I told myself to say goodnight and leave. I didn’t have to look at her. I didn’t have to remind myself of how she had gone behind my back and fucked around with somebody else.

  I opened the door, head held high. She was nobody to me. I would go out and score a quick fuck and feel better about myself. I walked into the lounge, heading for the door. Just as I opened my mouth to say goodnight, she spoke up.

  “You wanna order a pizza or something?”

  That stopped me. I turned a little, looking at Tamara out of the corner of my eye.

  “Pizza? At this time of night?”

  “It’s only midnight. I’ve seen you eat, like, twenty hot dogs in two minutes, by the way.”

  “True.” I had thrown up so hard after that, but it was worth the money that I had made from the guys who had bet against me.

  “I’ve wanted a pizza all night, but I feel stupid ordering a whole one for myself. Please?”

  I turned to look at her. My first inclination was to ask her who the fuck she thought that she was, acting like we were friends or something. She was looking at me like her saying ‘please’ would melt my heart.

  When I saw the look on her face, and I knew that it wasn’t just about pizza. Did she want to make up? Be friends again? Was she sorry for sleeping around on me? Or it might have been that she was lonely. She hadn’t said anything about the guy who got her knocked up. I guessed he had run off on her. She needed somebody, and she was all alone.

  I didn’t know what to make of that.

  “Only if I can have pepperoni,” I said, walking over to her. I flopped down on a chair next to the couch. “Even if it’s only on half, I want pepperoni.”

  “That’s fair.” She s
miled, picking up the phone to make the order. We agreed on something to watch on TV—a late-night talk show—and then we let the sound of the television fill the silence. Obviously, we didn’t know what to say to each other. She seemed just as awkward as I felt.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Fat and miserable,” she muttered. “And I’m only gonna get bigger.”

  “Midnight pizza probably isn’t helping.”

  “Shut up.” She looked over at me, eyeing me up. “Can I say something without you taking it the wrong way?”

  “Uh, I guess?”

  “You’re looking handsome lately.” She grinned. “I mean it. No bullshit. I can tell you’re taking care of yourself.”

  I couldn’t help but feel a little flattered. “Yeah?”

  “You’ve been working out,” she observed with a smile.

  “Wow, is that a pick-up line?”

  “Hardly. But you have been weight lifting, right?”

  “Yeah, I have. Thanks for noticing.” I had been working my ass off, actually. My jeans were fitting better, my shirts, everything. I didn’t feel winded when I ran up and down the stairs, either. I started remembering what it was like to be in shape, and I liked it a lot.

  “So. You ready?” I had to ask. I couldn’t help it. I needed to know how she was doing with the whole baby thing, even if it fucking killed me to think about her sleeping with somebody else. I was torturing myself, actually, but I needed to know.

  “For the baby, you mean?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think anybody is,” she confessed. “I can read all of the books that I want and ask for advice, but it’s not the same as having one of my own because that’s all on me. I know that.”

  “At least you won’t be surprised then,” I pointed out.

  She grinned. “That’s a good way of putting it. Thanks.” The pizza guy showed up, and she realized that she was only in a robe and hurried out of the room as fast as she could to get actual clothes on. By the time that I had the pizza laid out and was already on my first slice, she came out in pajamas.

  It was good, hanging out with her like that. We could be ordinary people together. It had just taken some time to overcome the animosity between us. I tried to forget how much that she had hurt me and just be glad that we could be friends. She was a good person, somebody that I liked having in my life. We could all count on her. She was like everybody’s big sister, and somehow that appealed to me.

  Only I had fucked her, felt her cum all over my dick while she screamed my name and I couldn’t forget about it. I wished so much that I could.

  14

  Tamara

  After that night with the pizza, things were better between Creed and me. I didn’t realize until that night how much I had missed being able to hang out with him. It felt good.

  I still wouldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t. In fact, when he asked how far along I was, I took four weeks off just to throw him. I didn’t know if he remembered exactly when we had been together, but he might have. I didn’t want him to do the math and come back to me wanting an explanation. So, like a deer in headlights, I’d taken four weeks off my due date. It was a little much, but he had bought it.

  Sometimes I felt like it was more work to keep the truth from him. There were times when I wanted nothing more than to just admit it and tell him that I needed his support. I wanted my baby to have a father. As the weeks passed and the due date loomed ahead, I thought more and more about how it had felt not to have a father of my own. I wanted something better for my baby, even if it meant taking the chance of Creed rejecting us.

  I had to try.

  How does a person broach that subject? I couldn’t do it while we were eating pizza since we were getting along so well. I couldn’t do it the next day because he was busy working on his bike with Harris. The following day, he was out with Drake. It seemed like whenever I worked up the courage to tell him, something or someone got in the way.

  And then there was his side-gig at Bobby’s gentlemen’s club. That got under my skin like nothing else. I couldn’t stand the thought of him being there with those skanks.

  “I don’t know what I hated more,” I said one night while hanging out with Nicole and Violet at my new place. It was a two-bedroom with a full kitchen, unlike my old studio. It felt more like a home.

  “What are you talking about?” Violet asked, sipping her wine. Oh, I hated her for being able to drink wine just then.

  “I was just thinking about the gentlemen’s club.” The girls rolled their eyes, and I rolled mine. “I don’t know what bothered me more, having them at our club, or having Creed there for security.”

  Violet didn’t seem to pick up on anything more than the surface meaning of my words. Nicole, on the other hand, cocked one eyebrow. She kept her mouth shut, which I was grateful for. I reminded myself to be careful because Nicole was smart enough to put two and two together. She was always looking for a clue to figure out who was my baby’s father. I couldn’t go around giving them to her.

  “I bet he just sits around staring at the girls all the time with his tongue hanging out of his mouth,” Violet giggled. She imitated what she thought that he must look like, and Nicole laughed. I didn’t. Because Violet was right, of course. I didn’t doubt that he was enjoying the perks of his new job; he got to watch gorgeous, shapely women shake their ass all night long, while I had swollen up to the size of a beached whale. Even my fingers were thicker than they were before I was pregnant. I couldn’t wear my rings anymore. The only thing looking better was my hair, which was healthier than ever. I made a point to take my time doing it every day since it was just about the only thing that I could do to make myself feel beautiful.

  “Nah, Creed’s not that pathetic,” I said. “Let’s give him some credit.”

  “Oh, come on. Have you seen some of the women he’s been with?” Violet was on a roll, feeling the effect of the wine. I bit my tongue.

  “I don’t think that they were all dogs,” Nicole offered. “Didn’t you sleep with him once?”

  Violet laughed. “Yeah, a long time ago, and I think that was as good as it was ever gonna get for him! I mean, not that I’m a supermodel, but come on. He’ll screw anything that moves.”

  I got up, going to the kitchen for a glass of water. I couldn’t let the girls see how jealous Violet’s words made me feel. She was right—Creed would screw anything. But it didn’t always have to be that way, did it? He could change. He already had, in a big way.

  He was looking better and better all the time. Without his beard, he looked so much younger and more handsome. I’d never known that he had a firm, square jaw. I’d forgotten all about the thin scar going across his right cheek. He’d gotten it while he was in the Army, even though he liked people to think that he got it in a club-related fight. Either way, he thought that it made him look tougher. And it did.

  His most recent change had been shaving his head. He was now completely clean up top. He looked even better without hair than he did with it since the thinning up top made him appear even older. Between the clean-shaven head, his sculpted face and his newly defined body he looked damn good.

  “Tamara? You okay in there?” Nicole asked from the living room.

  “Yeah. Just getting water. You need anything?”

  “No, we’re good. Darcy’s on her way with the food.”

  “Excellent. I’m starving. I’m always starving.” I tried to sound chipper, and upbeat. Honestly, jealousy was eating me alive. What was he doing at the gentlemen’s club? I knew he was on duty that night. Was he flirting with the girls? Maybe they were flirting back. Would he end up with one of them at the end of the night, like he had that one day when I’d watched that little skank walk downstairs from his room? And the way that she had eyed me up like she was challenging me pissed me right the fuck off. She’d been lucky to get out of there with her extensions intact.

  There was a knock at the door, and I heard
Nicole greet Darcy. The smell of food from the restaurant that she’d just started working in was enough to make me salivate. I felt the baby moving inside me. He or she was always moving when food was around.

  Nicole came into the kitchen to get plates and napkins. She saw the look on my face.

  “It’s Creed, isn’t it?”

  I ignored her.

  “Tamara, look at me. He’s the father, isn’t he?”

  “The utensils are over in the drawer.” I pointed.

  “Stop. Listen to me,” Nicole scolded. “You’re carrying his baby, and you have feelings for him. Why can’t you just admit that? Why bring on more stress than you need to?”

  I didn’t know what to say. It seemed so pointless, telling Nicole that she was wrong.

  So, I shrugged instead, feeling very vulnerable once my best friend figured out the truth. “Because he doesn’t want me, and he doesn’t want kids.”

  “You don’t know that,” Nicole whispered. “Drake told me that he felt that way before, but there’s always another reason behind things like that. Drake was afraid. Once he figured it out, he felt better about the idea. I mean, has he ever flat-out said ‘I don’t ever want kids’?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “So? There you go.” We heard Darcy’s footsteps on the wood floors and clammed up. I knew that wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, of course.

  “I love it!” Darcy gave me a big hug, beaming. “This is so gorgeous! Have you started decorating the nursery yet?”

  “No—mostly because I don’t have anything for it yet,” I admitted.