Truck Stopped: Satan's Devils MC #11

by Manda Mellett

  “Sam, hi.”

  “Mind if I come in?”

  “If you don’t mind the sound of someone being sick.”

  “Been there, done that,” she grins. Then the smile slips off her face. “Truck’s told me how sick you are.”

  I sigh as I go over to the bed and sit. “I’ve never had anything like this before, Sam. Just wish I could shake it off.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  Shrugging, I tell her, “Go ahead.”

  “When was your last period?”

  What? I stare at her. Then the penny drops. “No.” I give a short laugh. “I’m not. I can’t be. I had the implant which wore off a while ago, but my periods were irregular on that and haven’t sorted themselves out as yet. It’s not unusual for me to miss one or two. Besides, Truck and I have been very careful. Neither of us want kids.”

  Am I sure about that? Truck says the right words, but sometimes his gaze lingers on the kids in the clubhouse. Deep down, does he want one of his own? Well, if so, he won’t have them with me. I’m determined not to add more life to this fucked up world. Hell, I hope this isn’t a deal breaker, how could I give up my man? I realise I’ve zoned out when Sam speaks again.

  “Wouldn’t hurt to rule it out.” She produces a packet that I hadn’t noticed her carrying.

  I see immediately what it is. A pregnancy test.

  “I’m not.” I’m adamant. “I’m too ill for it to be that. I know you get sick in the early stages of pregnancy, but I’ve seen enough of you women when you’re pregnant, and no one’s come close to being like this. I’m ill, not expecting.”

  “Humour me?”

  It’s not often the president’s old lady asks for anything.

  I give a short laugh. “Right now I’m not sure I’ve any pee inside me but let me have it and I’ll give it a shot.”

  It takes me a while as I haven’t managed to keep water down for days, but eventually my body cooperates. Then, unsurprisingly, I’m sick once again. When I return with the test in my hand, expecting her to have become fed up and left, I see she’s still waiting patiently.

  I put it down on the bedside table. I already know it’s going to be negative, so I am not concerned at all.

  “So, what have I been missing?” I try to act like the prez’s old lady hasn’t just heard me puking up my guts.

  She thinks for a moment, her eyes flicking toward the test as though she’s more invested in the result than I am. “Oh, same old stuff. Amy’s lost another tooth and is trying to persuade Heart that the going rate is five dollars.” When I look a little bemused, she adds, “You know, the Tooth Fairy.”

  Oh. As my mom had never bothered with stuff like that, I hadn’t realised it was something people actually did. “Sounds like Amy’s onto a good thing.”

  “Or it’s a plot cooked up by her and her classmates. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past them. Get the whole class to agree and tell the same story to their parents. Go on then.” At her swift change of subject, she points to the stick.

  Shaking my head at her impatience, I lean over and pick it up. “Yeah, it’s…” My eyes sharpen. Then blur. I pass it over to her, as another wave of sickness comes over me and I run back into the bathroom.

  I’m pregnant. I can’t be.

  Sam’s come in behind me, her hand is rubbing up and down my back. I’m embarrassed as hell that she’s seeing me like this, but don’t have the energy to tell her to leave. She passes me a damp washcloth.

  “At least we know what we’re dealing with, Allie. You’re not ill, you’re pregnant. There are things that can help. Ginger biscuits and saltines. I’ll bring you some. Number of pregnancies here, the kitchens are always stocked with them.”

  “Being pregnant is worse than being ill, Sam. You can recover when you’re sick.”

  She laughs softly. “You better?”

  Yeah, the nausea’s gone. For now.

  “Let’s talk in your room.” It’s her who flushes the toilet for me.

  I walk back and sit down, thoughts going through my head so fast it’s hard to settle on one to deal with. “Don’t tell anyone, Sam, please?”

  “Of course not. You’ll want to tell Truck first.”

  How will he take it? Will he be horrified or delighted? Even if we had planned a family, it’s far too early to bring a child into the mix. Do I even want to keep it?

  “You’ve obviously got morning sickness bad. But it does wear off.”

  “When?”

  “Around twelve weeks or so. If you haven’t had a period, you don’t know how far along you are. You’ve been with Truck, what, over a month?”

  It’s been six weeks since we had our date.

  “I don’t understand how, Sam.”

  She grins. “Well, the woman produces an egg, the man produces…” My glare stops her. “Too soon?”

  “Too late.” We should have been more careful.

  We were.

  “Can you leave me alone, Sam? I need some time alone to think.”

  “Okay. But I’m here if you want to talk. I’ll get Truck to bring some ginger biscuits up.”

  “No,” I grab at her hand and stop her. “Don’t say anything to Truck, not yet. Please.”

  A thoughtful glance, then a nod of her head. “Way I read Truck, Al, is he’ll support you. Whatever you want to do. You may not have been together long, but it’s plain to see, all that man wants is for you to be happy.”

  He does. And I want to make him happy in return. I’m just not sure what it will take to do that, and whether I can do it.

  When I’m left alone with my thoughts, I put my head in my hands and let the tears fall. It doesn’t help I’m feeling as sick as I am, and lightheaded as I haven’t eaten for days. According to Sam, I’ve got another six to eight weeks of this. But it will go. Then, six months after that, I’ll be holding a baby in my arms. The thought brings me no pleasure.

  But it might please Truck.

  I could get rid of it without him knowing.

  This early it would be a simple procedure, he wouldn’t need to know. I’d go to the doctor, come back having taken the medication and feeling better. No one, apart from Sam, needs to know a thing.

  I’m pregnant.

  My mom never wanted me. She wanted my brother.

  What was it about me that she’d disliked from the start?

  I’d been eight when my brother was born, and from the first moment, he’d been the favourite.

  Hey, Bean, I wouldn’t do that to you. No, if I had a baby I’d do my best to love it. But would it be possible, considering the example I had? Learn from the women in the clubhouse. There’s enough of them with babies or pregnant. The other clubs joke about the water in Tucson. I sob. They must be right. Truck and I had done all that we could to prevent this.

  Oh fuck no. I cover my mouth and reach the bathroom just in time. Even the thought of water is making me puke now.

  Can I do this for another two months?

  If I keep the baby, looks like I’m going to have to.

  When I leave the small bathroom which seems to be the place I spend most of my time now, I find Truck lying on the bed waiting for me. His hands are propping up his head. “How are you feeling? I take it no better.” His gaze flicks behind me, then back. His brow carries crease lines of worry.

  Suddenly I know I can’t make the decision on my own. It’s not right to exclude him.

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.

  His eyes narrow.

  “Sam brought me a test.”

  “What the fuck?” He throws himself off the bed and stalks toward me. “You’re fuckin’ pregnant?”

  Well, so much for thinking he might be pleased. He’s angry. Which is good, isn’t it?

  “How?” he snaps.

  I’m sick, tired. My temper rises. “Do you really need me to explain the mechanics of it, Truck?”

  “Is. It. Mine?”

  What the hell?

  I can’t bel
ieve he asked me that. Until this weekend when I got ill, we’d spent every spare moment together in bed. When would I have had time to fit someone else in? If I hadn’t been a sweet butt in the past, would he still have asked me? Does he have that little trust in me?

  Better to find what he thinks I’m capable of now, rather than later. His question has shown, one misstep and he’ll immediately be throwing accusations at me.

  Does he think so little of his brothers that they would go behind his back?

  I advance toward him, then step past and open the door. “Get out, Truck. Just, get out. Oh, wait a moment. You can take this with you.”

  I bend toward the chair, pick up my property cut and throw it at him.

  With a look of surprise and, showing improvement in his hand to eye coordination, he catches it, then, walks out.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Truck…

  I handled that well.

  But heck, I’ve been careful every time we fucked. Held the fucking condom as I pulled out, never put my dick near her uncovered. It’s a fucking impossibility. Only explanation I can think of is that she went with somebody else behind my back.

  When?

  How the fuck should I know? It’s not like we’re joined at the hip.

  Yes, you are.

  When would she have had a chance to step out on me? Perhaps with someone just before we got together? She’d told me there had been no one, but maybe the truth is, there had.

  “Uh oh. Who we gotta kill?” Drummer gets in to step beside me. “Your face, Brother.”

  “Allie’s pregnant.”

  The prez’s hand shoots out and grabs my arm, effectively stopping me. His eyes examine my face. “I take it you’re not too happy about it?” he asks through gritted teeth.

  “One way of putting it, Prez. The only thing I’m sure of is she has to have been lying to me all this time.”

  His voice becomes icy. “Not sure I understand what you’re saying here, Brother. Only one way that happened, and you were part of it,” he snarls. “Never took you for an asshole who blamed the woman.”

  He’s impugning me for something that wasn’t my fault. “I gloved up. Every fuckin’ time.”

  “So?”

  “So it can’t be mine.”

  His eyes widen, then narrow, and that deadly stare fixes on my face. It belies the deadly calm of his voice. “Come with me.”

  As he marches off, I’ve no option but to follow him. He goes into his office, opens a drawer and chucks a box at me.

  I look down, then up. “Too late now, Prez. As I said, I used one every time.”

  “Read what’s written on it.” He pauses. “How many times have you fucked Allie, Truck?”

  I shrug.

  “Let me see. Three times a day for what, six weeks?”

  He’s a bit short on some days, but as an average it would work.

  “So over a hundred and twenty times, yeah? Read that box and tell me the odds.”

  I read it, then refute. “But I haven’t been careless.” Ninety-eight percent effective. “Never had a problem before.” I may not have fucked another girl as much, but I’ve been with plenty.

  “Then your luck just ran out.” He brushes back his hair. “You really think Allie’s been unfaithful? Really? And who would you name as the father? One of your fuckin’ brothers? Which one, Truck? Which one? Cause if you name someone, I’ll have to strip his patch and watch while you kill him. You claimed her!”

  I remain silent, thinking that’s wise. I hadn’t thought as far as who would betray me. Doing so now, I can’t come up with a single name.

  “You’re thinking you can’t trust her because she was a sweet butt.” His head moves side to side. “Shame on you, man.” Disappointment shines from his face.

  “I’ve known Allie ten years now, you what, eighteen months? Patched you in as you’d proven yourself. Must have fuckin’ missed you were a damn stupid motherfucker.”

  When Drummer gives it to you, he gives it to you straight.

  I bow my head into my hands, then wipe them over my bare skull.

  Drummer reaches behind him, picks up a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. I shake my head when he offers me one.

  “Smell of whiskey makes Allie sick,” I tell him automatically, then realise what I’ve said. “Oh shit.”

  “Shit indeed, Truck. I think you’re looking for reasons which don’t exist because you don’t want to deal with what’s happening.”

  Is he right? Am I looking for an excuse so I don’t need to step up and accept my culpability? Christ, now he’s pointed it out, I know he’s correct. Allie’s so sick and ill, and now I have to face that I’m responsible. There’s been no one else, no one I can blame. Only me. And Allie, of course, but shit, I told her I’d protect her, and I failed.

  Now I’ve left her alone to come to terms with something she didn’t ever want; the knowledge there’s a baby growing inside her.

  “I want to make her happy, Prez.” All my anger has fled.

  “Man would have to be blind not to see you want that for each other. Now that you’ve knocked her up, deal with it.” He gives a quick grin. “Happened to me fast too. Eli wasn’t planned, but hell, never regretted it.”

  “Al’s adamant she doesn’t want kids. I accepted that. Now I’ve given her the one thing she’s no desire for. Think that’s why I almost hoped it wasn’t me. That there was someone else to blame, other than myself.”

  He sips his whiskey. “You and she got some talking to do, but I’ll tell you this, Truck. You did your best to prevent it. Allie was obviously happy to trust condoms as well. Neither of you, or both of you, are to blame. Whatever path you take to your future, you’re in it together. That’s what claimin’ a woman means, can’t just step away when the going isn’t easy.”

  Drummer can be a hard prez. But I’ve heard others discuss he speaks a lot of sense and can help you get your head on straight when you can’t see the wood for the trees yourself.

  “Sam suffered sickness until she got to three months both times, Truck. Luckily it didn’t incapacitate her as much as Allie, but hopefully she’ll be getting a second wind in a few weeks.”

  “This thing Allie’s got. That’s not going to just switch off.” I frown, wondering if that had also been at the back of my mind. “You say a few weeks, but hell, the way she’s suffering right now... I fuckin’ hate seeing her like this. How can I watch her slowly fade in front of my eyes?”

  “Look, everyone needs to do what they have to. I think you need to get Allie to a doctor, see what they can do to help. If she can’t eat or drink, she won’t be fit enough to grow a baby.”

  “Surely it must ease up?” What do I know about pregnancy? “If she goes on like she is, she won’t survive until three months. She brings everything up, Drummer. Her body’s getting no nutrition.” I shake my head, unable to imagine it. “Surely Mother Nature kicks in, knows she needs vitamins, protein and shit?”

  “I’m no medical man, Truck. It’s possible it’s not meant to be. She doesn’t improve? She might miscarry.”

  Right now I hope she does. And soon, before she gets too weak. “I just want Allie fit and well, Drummer.” I stand. “I need to get back to her. Allie and I need to talk. After I’ve done some grovelling.”

  His voice stops me before I get to the door. “Been there, done that Truck. Taking an ol’ lady isn’t always the rosy picture you keep in your head. I might be the tough, scary MC Prez, but I’m also a man and I fuck up. Can assure you this won’t be the last fuckin’ time you’ll be grovelling.”

  I suspect that he’s right.

  I’m sorry. I rehearse in my head as I make my way back up the track, knowing that’s completely inadequate. I did the worst thing I could ever accuse someone with Allie’s past of, and made the mistake of allowing her to think I don’t trust her.

  To be honest, I don’t know how to make this right. I just know I have no alternative. Life without Allie in it? Alr
eady know that wouldn’t be worth living.

  I’ve got to convince her this shit will never happen again. Sure, I’ll fuck up, but can’t ever let her believe I have no faith in her. But what are the words to make her not doubt that? As I near the suite, I still haven’t found them.

  I turn the door handle half expecting it to be locked. It isn’t, and turns easily. What is far more difficult to deal with is the sight of my woman lying on her bed, curled up in a foetal position, her hand stuffed into her mouth, her eyes reddened, and hearing the sounds of weeping.

  It breaks my fucking heart. It took two of us, so I might not have full responsibility for her condition, but my stupid reaction? Yeah, I own that.

  Her eyes widen, but I don’t give her the chance to say anything. Instead I go over, and sweep her up into my arms, ignoring the pain shooting down my left leg.

  She squeals as I lift her, and automatically hangs onto my cut.

  She’s lost so much weight.

  “Truck…”

  “Shush.” Gritting my teeth and trying not to stumble, I carefully carry her into my room, and place her in the middle of my bed. Immediately after I release her, she scrambles up to the top, and sits against the pillows drawing up her knees and cradling her arms around them.

  “That’s your place and where you’ll fuckin’ stay,” I say quickly before giving her a chance to protest. “Don’t give a fuckin’ damn if you wake me up every ten minutes every night, that’s where you’ll be sleeping. Don’t care if you’re well or sick, pregnant or fuckin’ not, you’re my old lady, and your place is by my side.”

  “You hurt me.”

  She’s wasted no time getting to the heart of the matter. “I know. And I’m sorry. Allie, sweetheart. I never wanted to do that. My aim was to give you everything in life it was possible to give you, and nothing that you didn’t want. I couldn’t handle the guilt…”

  “You?” Her brow furrows. “You’re not guilty…”

  “Yeah,” I interrupt. “Prez showed me that.”

  Her eyes close and her head droops. “You told Drummer? Anyone else?”

  “Just him.” I move closer. “He won’t tell anyone.”

  “Sam knows.”

  I indicate the bed, a silent request for permission to sit.