“Melissa, honey, sorry to call so late, but I wanted to make sure everything was okay? You had the ultrasound today, didn’t you?”
Settling back with my phone to my ear, I tell her my news. “Everything’s fine, mom. A normal healthy boy.”
“Boy?” she squeals. “I’m going to have a grandson?” Then her voice is more muffled as she calls out, “Rufus, it’s a boy.”
I hear my father’s response. “Already gathered that.” I can just picture him with a fond smile on his face.
“And you,” Mom speaks directly into the phone again. “Everything going well?”
“Yes, I’m good.” I realise I am. While the intense, debilitating grief I’d felt at first hasn’t gone away, it has faded and become bearable. The effort I was making to stay strong for my child, is habit now and not forced. “The doctor said everything’s going as it should. I’ve gained the right weight.”
We discuss the ins and outs of my pregnancy for a little longer, then, when I yawn, we say our goodbyes, with a promise from Mom that they’ll come and visit me soon.
It’s been a busy day. I go to bed, tired, but happy.
When the weekend comes, Pyro turns up. I tell him exactly what I want to do. While I’m superstitious enough not to actually start decorating yet, knowing the sex of the baby gives me the impetus to start thinking about themes, and looking at how I could eventually set up his room.
We have a blast. For some reason after visiting a couple of baby stores, we end up in a Harley store where there’s a mural on the wall. Pyro points to the huge image of a motorcycle and suggests that should be in my son’s room. I only just manage to stop him buying a remote-controlled bike, saying it’s far too soon.
“You’ll be buying him a tank and toy soldiers next.” I roll my eyes as we leave the shop.
His face lights up. “Now there’s an idea.”
“Well, I’ll be buying him a doll house and dolls,” I say, drily.
“What the fuck?” Then he chuckles when he sees I’m holding back a grin. “Choices, eh?”
It’s actually a serious point. I shrug.
“Hmm. Big responsibility, isn’t it? Deciding how to do this right.”
My hands find their familiar position, protectively covering this new life in my womb. “I just want him to be happy, Ro. Whatever he turns out to be, however he wants to live his life. No pressure one way or another.”
Pyro’s large hand easily covers both of mine. “No wonder I love you, Mel.” His words slip out and he pulls his hand abruptly away.
It’s just something a friend would say, isn’t it? I shouldn’t read anything into it.
I respond in the same way, “Love you too, Ro. You’ve been amazing.”
He’s the first to break the silence that follows. “It’s you who’s the amazing one. You’re going to make an incredible mom.”
I wish I had his confidence. I can only try to do my best.
Monday dawns all too soon. I pull on the clothes I wear to work, realising I’m going to have to get maternity clothes soon. My own, even the ones with elastic waistbands are getting uncomfortable.
Dressed smartly, ready for the office, I go out to my car, then drive the short way to my job. I get a hot chocolate from the machine, eyeing people carrying coffee with envy, exchanging pleasantries with colleagues, and brief discussions about what kind of weekend we’ve all had.
Everything is exactly the same as a normal start to the week, until I enter my actual place of work.
Beth, Carter, Shayla and Sian have their heads together near Beth’s desk. Odd, we don’t all work in the same department, and by this time I’d have expected them to be in their own offices.
Ah. The penny drops. Beth came back from Vegas yesterday, I bet she’s telling them the fun she had. My suspicions, I reckon, are proved correct as they’re all staring intently at her phone. Showing off her pictures, I expect. I’ll wait until later to share my news about the baby and show my own treasured photograph.
I make my way across to her desk, still holding my paper cup of hot chocolate. I take a sip as I approach.
“Hey, you had a good time in Vegas, I take it? Did it live up to your dreams?”
As she turns to me, there’s a strange look on her face. She looks almost scared.
Carter’s reaction is odd. He moves around me and takes the paper cup out of my hand.
Shayla draws up a chair. “Sit, Mel.”
My brows knit together. “What is it?”
“Maybe nothing,” Beth says fast. “But you know I’ve been in Vegas the past few days. I could be wrong, but I saw someone I thought I recognised.” Her hand is shaking as she passes me her phone.
“I took a few pictures, so you could see from every angle.”
I look at the first. It looks familiar, but too far away. Next she’s zoomed in. And the next. I go back and look at them again. My vision starts to go blurry, my head feels faint, I drop the phone on her desk and lower my head into my hands. In every picture she’s shown me, I’d seen my old man. I’d seen Skull alive and well, and… his arm is around a pretty young woman, she’s pushing a stroller and he’s carrying bags in his free hand.
“It could be a sister, Mel…”
I shake my head, trying to push through the dizziness and fog which has descended into my brain. It’s not the woman that bothers me. It’s the fact I’ve just seen my man. Alive, when I’d given up all hope and thought he was dead.
He’s abandoned me.
Perhaps he had crashed, hurt his head, got amnesia… Perhaps the pope doesn’t wear a funny hat and bears don’t shit in the woods.
I hit the heel of my hand against my forehead. Of course, a man like Skull wouldn’t have stayed with a woman like me.
“Here, Mel. Take this.”
It’s only when Beth stuffs a tissue into my hand that I realise I’m crying.
They try to talk to me, but there’s only one person I want. Only one man who can help and understand. Another who was left behind, just like me.
I delve into the bag I’m still carrying over my shoulder and take out my phone. It takes a moment for my trembling fingers to unlock it.
The call is answered immediately. “Yo, you got Pyro.”
“Pyro? I need you. C-c-can you come get me from work?”
“Darlin', are you sick? Something up with the baby?”
“Please, just come.” I do not want to discuss this over the phone.
“On my way, sweetheart.”
I place my own phone back where it came from, then reach out my hand. “Let me see again.” Heaven help me, but I’m hoping I made a mistake. What does it say about me that I’d rather Skull was dead?
“I’ll send them to you, hold on a sec.”
She does, my purse vibrates, telling me her messages have arrived.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Mel. I know you’re upset. I wasn’t sure whether to tell you or not.”
“I told her to, Mel. I thought you’d want to know.” I manage a small nod toward Carter. He’s right.
My phone’s in my hand, I’m viewing the pictures again. Carter disappears, then a few minutes later returns, escorting a man into the office. It’s Pyro. He got here fast.
Wordlessly I pass my phone over, looking up to see the expression on his face, wanting the identity to be confirmed, or denied as is my preference. As his jaw goes tight, I know there’s no doubt. Skull’s alive and well, and was enjoying life in Vegas this last weekend.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Pyro growls. “Get your shit, Mel. You’re coming with me.” His eyes find Beth’s. “You’ll cover for her?”
“She’s sick and gone home,” Beth confirms.
Pyro helps me to my feet, takes the purse from my hands, and without worrying it could be damaging his masculinity, drapes it over his shoulder instead of my own. He places his arm around me.
I need it. I’m wobbling as I walk, the effort to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other proving a
lmost too much.
“We’re going back to the club, Mel,” he informs me as he opens the door to the car he’s brought.
“I…”
He looks over as I sit in the passenger seat, but I can get no more words out. “It will be alright, Mel,” he tries to assure me.
But how? How can this possibly be made right?
All sorts of stupid things cross my mind, the notion somehow floating to the top that my baby really does have a dad now. A man who could have equal parenting rights. A man I want nothing to do with now I know he left me and allowed me to think he was dead.
The implications of Skull being alive is much harder to deal with than grieving about him being out of the land of the living.
When we arrive at the club, I feel numb. Pyro parks, slips on his cut, then helps me out of the car. Again, his supporting arm encourages me to put right foot after left until we’re walking inside.
“Prez around?”
“In his office,” Beaver responds.
Pyro leads me on through. He knocks on the door, then, once we enter, helps me to sit without waiting for Demon’s permission, or caring what we might have interrupted. He takes the chair next to me, after pulling it closer to mine, so he can place his arm around my shoulders.
When he hands me my phone, I put the security code in, then he passes it over the desk.
Demon’s face tightens as he repeats the actions I’d first done, swiping from one photo to the next, then going back through the series again.
“When were these taken?” he asks, as if holding out hope they are old ones.
Pyro leaves no room for misunderstanding. “This past weekend.”
Demon uses his own phone. “Cad. Get in here now.” That’s all he says.
The computer guy’s there in a moment. Well, his office is only next door. He views the photos much the same as anyone else, using finger and thumb to enlarge the clearest.
“There’s no fuckin’ doubt,” he announces at last.
There’s not. There’s the giveaway scar running through his left eyebrow that’s clear when you zoom in.
“Where did you get these, Mel?” Cad unsurprisingly wants all the information he can get.
Knowing it’s hard for me to speak, Pyro replies for me. “Friend from her work was in Vegas this weekend. She took them there.”
“How would she know it was Skull?” Again, it’s Cad who queries me.
“She, er, she met him a few times,” I manage to get out.
“Can you give me her number, Mel?”
I’m sure Beth wouldn’t mind under the circumstances. “Yeees,” I stammer out. “But I d-d-d-don’t think there’s anything more she can tell you. She wasn’t c-c-c-certain of course, so didn’t approach him.”
The computer man’s eyes flick to Pyro then to Demon. “I’d like to know her impression. Did he look like a resident or a visitor? See this bag he’s holding? It’s got a grocery store logo on it. Might mean nothing at all, but if it’s grocery shit, he could be a local.”
“Or self-catering at an Airbnb,” Demon suggests.
“I’d still like to talk to her. There’s a way people tend to look when they’re tourists. Interested, looking around all the time. Locals tend to be more focused. Any clue we might prompt her to remember would help.”
“If he’s a local, he’d be easier to find?”
The conversation has been going on over my head. Suddenly those words hammer home and I interrupt, “I don’t know if I want you to find him.” All three men look astonished, so I try to offer an explanation. “I loved him; thought I still did. Mourned him as though he was dead. Spent months trying to cope living with his memory rather than the man himself.” That’s not news to them. “This,” I point to my phone lying forlorn on the desk. “This proves he left me without a second thought. He knew I’d believe the worst, yet still he left. He could have called, told me he wasn’t coming back, but he didn’t. He left me to think…”
I sob, and this time it’s Pyro who hands the tissue to me.
“He left the club too,” Demon reminds me through gritted teeth. “Another couple of months we’d have held a wake. Didn’t hold it sooner because of you, but that was in my mind. He let us think he was dead too, Mel.”
“I want to find him. Make him wish he was fuckin’ dead,” Pyro snarls.
“I want to kill him myself.”
I’m not sure whether Demon is joking.
“I’m pregnant,” I say, hurriedly. “That man, in those pictures. That man is this baby’s father.” My voice drops and becomes a whisper. “What if he wants custody when he finds out? Or at least, to exercise his parental rights?”
Pyro’s eyes have gone wide. “Motherfucker walked off and left you, Mel. He didn’t know you were pregnant, but there was a chance. Parental fuckin’ rights?” He snorts. “Man like that who doesn’t want or deserve a baby, shouldn’t fuckin’ be entitled to anything.”
Demon’s eyes flare. “I hear what you’re saying, Ro, but I hear Mel too. Wasn’t too far back Vi was faced with a custody battle with Theo’s sperm donor. There’s going to be a risk Skull will decide he wants to be a dad in a few years’ time, even if he doesn’t right now. There’s no saying the courts might not find in his favour.”
“What are you suggesting we do, Prez?”
“Kill him?” Cad offers almost hopefully.
“Make him realise at the very least that it’s not in his best interests to have anything to do with the kid. Before we do anything… drastic, we get him to sign away his parental rights.”
Which means I’ll have to do the one thing I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for. “I’ll have to face him.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Pyro
Mel’s realisation that she’ll have to come face-to-face with the man who’d walked out on her without a backward glance at her most vulnerable time hits her hard.
She’d been holding it together well, but it was just a dam waiting for the right moment to break. One sob comes, followed by another then more. As tears stream down her face, Demon catches my eye and jerks his head.
It’s not that the prez can’t deal with a crying woman, he and I both know now she needs comfort and support.
I half lead, half carry her up to my room. While I’d like to be ranting, raving, and working out a plan with Prez and Cad, I know they’ll think of everything I could probably put in. It’s Mel who needs me now, so I’ll leave the next steps to them. Sure thing I know is that we will be taking them.
If that means I’ll be putting bullets in my gun and going to Vegas armed with a shovel, that’s what I’ll do. Right at the moment, anything less wouldn’t satisfy me.
Always knew that man was an idiot and a fool to walk out on Mel, but I always thought he hadn’t returned because he couldn’t. Never once dreamed it had been by choice. Who’d leave such an amazing woman as her without a backward glance?
He hurt her once. Now he’s gone and fucking hurt her all over again. How much can one woman take?
I’d hoped I’d one day be lying on my bed with her in my arms but had never expected it would be under these circumstances.
She’s wailing, and in between her cries, saying over and over again, “I hate him, I hate him, Ro.”
I’m pleased as fuck when her tears eventually dry out, worried as hell what all her distress is doing to the baby. It can’t be good for him.
Still, I rock her gently in my arms, then eventually, in a small voice she asks, “Am I such a terrible woman, Pyro? I should be glad he’s alive. Should be happy that my baby will have a man he can call dad. But I can’t be.”
“It’s the shock,” I tell her. “You can’t expect to think straight or make decisions right now. Your initial reaction might change.” I hope to fuck it doesn’t. When Skull hears about the baby, if he wants to go back to her, would she let him? Over my fucking dead body.
Club won’t have him back, that’s for certain. He’ll be out bad
for sure. Never able to ride with the Devils again, nor any of the clubs we have relations with. No excuse on earth would be good enough for Demon to give him another chance. In the unlikely event she ends up forgiving and wanting him to play house with her, it will be without the cut on his back. That’s if we leave him breathing.
Time passes, I couldn’t say how long, but as the sun moves position and removes its beams from my room, I’d guess it was late afternoon when a knock comes on the door. Mel’s fallen into a restless sleep, so I ease away from her gently, and quietly cross the room. Opening the door, I step outside, pulling it closed behind me.
“How is she?” Vi looks cross, and I guess it’s on Mel’s behalf.
“Shattered. She’s sleeping now.”
“D wants to see you, Ro. I’ll sit with her while you’re gone.”
I’m torn. While I want to hear any news, I don’t want to leave Mel.
Vi raises her chin. “I know something of what she’s going through because of all that business with Angel, when he wanted my son.”
“She doesn’t need to hear that, Vi,” I warn.
“I know that. But her emotions, those I can understand. Being pregnant too, been there, done that. If she needs you, you’re only downstairs.”
If anyone has to sit with Mel, the best is probably Vi. Satisfied that she understands Mel shouldn’t be upset any more than she already is, I leave her in the hands of the prez’s old lady and descend to Demon’s office.
It’s empty.
“Church!” Karl yells out, pausing his prospect duties cleaning the bar.
Waving my hand as my thanks, I go to our meeting room.
I can hear it before I open the door. Shouts, exclamations, hands slamming onto the wooden table. My entrance causes a brief lull.
“How’s she doing, Ro?”
I shake my head. “Fuckin’ terrible, Prez.” It’s the truth.
“Woman does not deserve this!” Beef snarls.
Prez bangs the gavel. “Pyro, sit down. I was waiting for you, and the rest of you fuckers, shut up. We all feel the same, now we’ve got to decide what to do.”
Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6 Page 18
