Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6

by Mellett, Manda

  “If I go, Pyro can have his room back.”

  She dismisses that. “Pyro can move into Skull’s now, or you can if you prefer. There’s space for you, whichever way you look at it. These past weeks must have shown you how much you’re part of the club. We want you here, Mel.”

  I came to the compound with a biker. What’s here for me now he’s gone? What does anywhere hold for me?

  “I’ve got to find a way to move on, Vi. I’ll think it over tonight, but I believe going back to my own place will be the best thing for me to do.” Or maybe I’ll sell up and move somewhere new, somewhere that doesn’t hold memories. “I’ve got to make a life for me and the baby.”

  “It’s our baby too,” she reminds me. “I don’t want to lose touch.”

  “I’m not cutting the club off, Vi.” It would be stupid to do that. I’ve made so many friends here, and Pyro’s been such a great help. “If I stay, I’m not sure I’ll do more than just exist, if I force myself out of this bubble, then hopefully I can move on.”

  “Don’t think we’re going to abandon you. I’ll come and drag your ass back if we don’t see you.”

  “Vi, you’ve become such a good friend. I want to keep that friendship. I just think I need to find my own space. I’m…” I choke up, “I’m not an old lady, so here I don’t have a place. Oh, I know you’re going to contradict me, but we’ve got to face facts.”

  “He may still come back.” Her voice is quiet, but firm and optimistic.

  She’s probably one of the few holding out hope. Sure, there’s a part of me that still does, that can’t give up on the man who fathered my child. But unless he’s lying in hospital unconscious, he could have gotten a message to me somehow. If there is a valid reason, oh how happy I’d be. But if there’s not, I’ve got to face something that’s possibly even harder than concrete evidence, he’s dead. That the man I believed in, the man I gave my heart to, was never what I’d thought him to be. That Skull wouldn’t have walked away from me without a backward glance. If he came back now with no genuine excuse and wanted to pick up where we left off, I’d be extremely wary about it. It’s one thing for a woman to return to a man who’s abandoned her, very different if that woman has a child, even one not yet born. I wouldn’t subject a baby to a childhood where his or her father couldn’t be trusted not to walk out.

  It’s easier to think of him as dead. Too many questions, and too many directed at myself and how I could have been fooled if he’s alive.

  Violet’s waiting expectantly, so I let her in on my thoughts. “Much as I’m grieving for him, Vi, if he does return, I don’t think it’s possible to pick up where we left off.” I might still love a dead man, but a man who thinks he can take off leaving everyone behind him to worry? That’s not the man I knew.

  “You’re going to decide to leave, aren’t you?” Her regret shows on her face.

  I can’t lie to her. “I think I am.”

  The next morning, Pyro doesn’t like it when I tell him I plan to go home.

  “At least you’ll be able to sleep in your own bed.”

  “I’ll sleep on your fuckin’ sofa,” he warns. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

  “Pyro, come, sit.” I invite him to park his ass beside me. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

  “Of course we fuckin’ are.”

  “Then we’re going to stay friends. I’ve… lost my man.” It’s still so hard to say it. Every time I do, another little piece of my heart breaks, and maybe I’m drawing nearer to accepting it. “I need to come to terms with that, and I won’t be able to do that here. Not with every man wearing a cut the same as his, not with people talking the same as he did and not when I’m being referred to as Skull’s old lady, or when I know the only reason I’m here is because that’s what I am. Was,” I correct.

  “I wear a cut and talk like a fuckin’ biker. You gonna shut me out too? Because I fuckin’ remind you of him?”

  “No, Ro, no. I want to stay friends. If you will, I want you to come to the hospital visits with me. If you will…” I hesitate, wondering if I’m asking too much. “If you’d like to be, I’d like you there at the birth.”

  Pyro’s eyes open the widest I’ve ever seen. He swallows before he answers, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “You really want that?”

  I swallow. “I do.” Then hold my breath for the answer. It’s a lot to ask of a single man.

  But his face breaks into a huge grin. “I’d like that too. Seems I’m already invested in my niece or nephew.”

  “I’m looking forward to finding out which it is.” But only because he’ll be at my side sharing the joy with me. On my own, I wouldn’t be able to cope so well. I don’t know why, but in this short space of time, Pyro’s become my rock.

  “Me too, Mel. Me too.”

  “I’d like you to come visit as much as you want. The only difference is I won’t be here, sleeping in your bed.”

  He glances at me quickly, opens his mouth, then looks away. He sighs. “You need help getting anything ready. The nursery painted…”

  “I’m not going to ask that much of you.”

  “You can’t really see me waving a paintbrush around, can you?” His eyes open in mock horror. “I was going to say I’d send the prospects around.” He winks as I burst out laughing. “I’m going to fuckin’ miss you darlin’.”

  “I’m going to miss you too,” I respond, genuinely.

  “You planning on leaving straight away?”

  I nod. “I’ll just call for an Uber…”

  “No you fuckin’ won’t. I’ll take you.” He glances at me. “You can come on the bike if you’re feeling up to it, if not I’ll take a car.”

  “I’m not ill. And I haven’t put on weight yet…”

  “Mel,” he starts in a warning tone, “you could put on a good few pounds and still be fine to ride.”

  I ignore him. Soon I will be gaining weight and there will come a time when I won’t be able to be behind anyone on their motorcycle. But for now, I’m fine. I’m looking forward to riding again.

  He takes me home, removes my house keys from my hands and takes his time looking around while I stand rolling my eyes. What does he expect? A rapist hiding under the bed? He checks out the garage, makes sure my car starts, then, comes back inside.

  “You sure?” His stare is intense.

  “I’m certain. I’ll be fine, Ro.” Well, I’ll try to be. Try to summon up the will to get up every day and carry on with life, even though there’s a big part of it missing. I can see by the expression in his face that he understands, without me putting it into words.

  After giving me a moment’s examination, he sighs. “Okay then. I’ll go. But you’ve got my number in your phone. Anything, Mel, anything. You need a carton of milk or have a fancy for ice cream? You’re feeling down and want another body around? Anything, just call me.” He pauses for a moment. “Not sure how good I’d be painting your nails but I’m willing to give it a go.”

  I laugh, and mock punch his arm. “When I can’t see my toes, you might need to.”

  His hand curls behind my neck, and he pulls me in closer, pressing his lips to my forehead for a second.

  “Take care of yourself, Mel.”

  “You too, Ro.”

  When I hear the sound of his engine fade into the distance, I realise I’m truly alone for the first time since Skull disappeared. I shiver, hugging my arms around me. Glancing around my living room, it strikes me how little of Skull is left behind. Okay, so most of his stuff he’d kept in the club, but apart from the clothes I know are upstairs, there’s not much else here. An open Harley magazine, a candy bar wrapper in the wastepaper basket. No photos, no knickknacks.

  At least there isn’t much to remind me.

  I stand, my head tilted, my brow creasing. Did Skull ever live with me? There’s hardly any evidence that he did. Based on what I see around me, he could have been a figment of my imagination.

  I rub
my stomach. “I don’t even have a photo of your daddy, baby.” Skull wasn’t into taking selfies, even with me and would always cover his face if I tried to take one of him, in the end I’d given up seeing how much it upset him. I think I’ll ask around at the club, someone must have one, even if he’s at the edge of a group shot. It pains me to think I could forget what he looked like.

  I try to settle back into my old routine. The one I had before Skull. I go to work, do my job as best I can, then come home and force myself to eat a lonely meal for one. I try to convince myself I lived like this for years, it can’t be that difficult to slip back into old habits and return to the woman I was before Skull. But it’s hard, he changed me in so many ways. He might not have left much of himself behind, but the memories are there, and along with them, expectations. I can’t help but look up when I hear a loud engine noise or fool myself I hear his key in the lock. His voice echoes around the house, though I’m only hearing it in my head.

  His ghost seems to haunt me, almost to the extent that I change my mind and return to the clubhouse, but my sensible head tells me I’ve got to face life alone sometime. It must be like an addict coming off the drug of their choice, at first impossible to see how they can make it through, but with the knowledge, in time, there’ll be light at the end of the tunnel, and less reliance on the crutch they used in the past.

  Of course, Skull had left something behind, something that keeps me determined when I feel like giving up. His baby, now inside me, but part of him too.

  So, I stick it out, getting used to the loneliness that had never been labelled that way before Skull, believing that’s the best thing to do.

  In the evenings I get a call, from Vi or Jay, and even from Pyro too. Steph seems to be on the rotation as well. I smile, thinking they have probably arranged they’ll all keep in touch, but won’t overwhelm me with more than one call a day.

  Tonight, it’s Pyro.

  “How you doing Mel? You need anything?”

  “No, Ro. I’m good.” He can’t see the tear I’ve just wiped from my eye.

  There’s a pause as though he’s unused to social calls on the phone. Then, “Will you come to the clubhouse this weekend, Mel?”

  “I’m going to Denver…” I’d come to realise it’s time I told the truth to my mom and dad.

  “Good idea. I’ll drive you.”

  It takes more than a few minutes to convince him I’m perfectly capable of driving myself, and no, I don’t need a prospect following me. In the end I promise to text him when I arrive at my parents, when I leave there and, when I get back home.

  I set out early on Saturday. On the way I wondered how to approach the two difficult subjects I was going to have to broach. Which should I start with? In the end, it’s a simple enquiry about my health which makes one option flow naturally.

  Mom and Dad take the news they are going to be grandparents in their stride, with a mixture of congratulations and concern. Mom asks a ton of questions about whether I’m eating well. I’m able to reassure her that I appear to be one of the lucky ones and, knock on wood, haven’t experienced morning sickness, or not as yet.

  Of course, the conversation comes around to the father.

  “Where’s Skull, Melissa?” Dad frowns. “Not happy he let you drive here alone. Do I need to get my shotgun out?”

  My face falls as my father’s joke fails to have the effect he was going for. Then a tear starts to roll down my cheek, fast followed by another. My mom’s arms surround me, holding me close, murmuring words of comfort while Dad stands to one side, his face taut and set.

  When I can finally speak, I pull away from her and try to explain. “It’s not what you think, Mom, Dad… he’s dead.”

  “What the hell? Where? When? How? Oh, baby girl, come here.” Quickly I find myself in Mom’s arms again, and I sob harder into her chest, just like I had as a child. Only then it was over a broken toy, not a broken life and dreams which have died.

  Their questions are so hard to answer.

  “You should have told us before,” Mom says after I’ve tried my best. “We’d have come down to Pueblo, been there for you. I hate to think of you going through this alone.”

  “And he didn’t know you were pregnant?” Dad waits for confirmation.

  “No. Look, the situation’s terrible. It breaks my heart Dad, but the club has looked at this every which way, then the other as well. The only explanation that makes any sense is that somewhere, out there, waiting to be discovered is a body.”

  I sob again, having had to put it so starkly.

  “And they’re going on…?”

  “His phone can’t be reached or traced. Cad thinks it’s most likely damaged.” As is its owner. “He’s not used his bank or credit cards, nor touched his bank account.”

  Dad’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t ask how the club knows. “Have you reported him missing to the police?”

  “Yes Dad, no sign of him. He’s not been arrested or turned up injured or dead.”

  Mom looks to Dad, then me. She places her hand over my heart. “What do you feel in here, Melissa?”

  I draw in a deep breath. My eyes flick to hers. “At first I refused to believe it. But as time goes on, I’ve accepted he’s gone. I have to, or else I can’t move on. It’s hard, Mom, but I need to be strong for me and the baby. No point hanging onto an impossible dream. I won’t be seeing Skull again. I know it.”

  Dad doesn’t seem to know what to say. He paces the room, shaking his head. Finally, he draws to a halt in front of me. “Skull dragged you into that motorcycle club…”

  “The club didn’t have anything to do with him going missing. And he dragged me, as you put it, into a family who’ve given me so much support over these past few weeks. They’re not criminals, Dad. They’re as hurt about Skull being gone as I am. It’s been good to grieve together.”

  “Are you still going to consort with them? Now that he’s no longer there?”

  I shrug. Pyro, I’m certain, will stay a friend. Vi, Jay and Steph too. As for the rest of the club, whatever they say now, I can’t help but think but as time goes on and the memory of Skull begins to fade, any responsibility toward me will disappear along with it. So I’m truthful in my response.

  “I’ve made friends, Dad, good ones. I’ll keep those up. But I won’t be part of the club any longer.”

  “I’m just glad someone was there for her, Rufus,” Mom chides him, gently. “Would rather it had been us she’d come to, but I can understand. They were the ones who were out searching.”

  “I’d have spoken to the police…”

  “They’ve done that too, dear. I doubt there’s more that anyone could do. Now Melissa needs to think of herself, and that grandchild of ours she’s carrying.”

  Mom turns the conversation back to womanly things with a genuine interest and growing excitement in my news. Dad gives a grim nod, realising continuing talking about Skull won’t bring my man home, or provide any more answers than those I’ve already given.

  He leaves the room.

  It’s a weight off of my mind that they know. I’d hated keeping such a big thing from them. Over the course of the weekend, Mom offered for me to move to Denver and live with them, but I’ve got my house, job, friends, and, for now, the club back in Pueblo, so I didn’t give it any serious consideration. Her offer to come and stay with me after the birth was gratefully appreciated and accepted. What do I know about looking after a baby?

  Back home my house is quiet, and my rejection of my parents offer seems perhaps hasty. But telling myself things will get better in time, I resume my routine, determined I can do this by myself.

  Not that I’m totally alone. I have become used to the sound of motorcycles along the road outside, sometimes stopping, sometimes driving on.

  I begin to settle in my house, the ghost of Skull becoming easier to live with. Though they try to persuade me, I don’t visit the compound, fearing it would raise his spectre all over again, when I believe
I’m slowly coming to terms with my loss. It still hurts, but sometimes I can get through the day without tears.

  When it becomes clear I’m not returning to the club, Pyro begins to visit regularly. To my surprise, the prospects start tidying my neglected yard, and doing handyman jobs around the house. I’ve not actually got them painting the nursery, it’s still too early for that, but they have cleared some of the junk I have stored and moved furniture which would have been too heavy for me.

  Violet, Jayden and Steph visit regularly, and even Mo’s popped around. I’ve resumed baking, and now usually have a tub of something or other for them to take back with them. I’m told everyone is grateful.

  I go to work, and gradually the topic of Skull going missing thankfully is dropped. I’ve offers of help from Beth and the others, even Carter offering assistance if I need anything.

  I know I’m lucky to have so many people looking out for me.

  If I wasn’t pregnant, maybe I wouldn’t be able to cope as well. I miss Skull with every fibre of my being, and I wish he was still here with me, but he’s not. It helps that he left me with a new life growing inside. Something to live for, a new life to love.

  I’m reminded every day, from sore breasts to the additional urges to pee, and now, to the growing evidence of a different shape to my stomach.

  “You’re starting to show,” Beth points out one day as we walk to our cars after work.

  “I know,” I say, proudly, stretching my top over my bump to show it off, when normally I’d hide the size of my stomach.

  “When do you find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  “Next week.” I grin. I don’t know who’s more excited, Pyro or me. He’s still determined to be with me every step of the way. “Thursday.”

  “Oh, I won’t be here.”

  I snap my fingers. “Of course, not. You’ll be living it up in Vegas. I forgot.”

  She jumps up and down with excitement. “I can’t wait. I’ve never been and always wanted to.”