Truck Stopped: Satan's Devils MC #11

by Manda Mellett

  “Odds higher than fifty percent in this case, yes. Unfortunately there’s also a likelihood of it reoccurring in future pregnancies.”

  “Won’t be any chance of that,” I tell her. “I’ll be taking steps.”

  “She definitely needs a good man like you beside her, Truck.”

  I start at the use of my name, then query. “You know my handle?”

  She smiles. “You forget. My miracle patient is married to one of your brothers. I saw Marcia the other day at her regular appointment. She told me you’d be dropping in. I know from Heart that you bikers prefer to use your biker names. Oh, and she might have let drop you were a firefighter.”

  “She warned you what to expect?” My hand touches my left cheek.

  “I didn’t need any warning. I see all sorts in here. I don’t care what you look like, all I care about is whether my patients have the best support they can. And in this case, both mother and baby have.”

  Of course I’ll be there for Allie, but I have no idea what to do for the best. “What can I do to help her?”

  “It’s common for HG sufferers to get anxious and depressed. Not going to lie to you Truck, she might become bedridden unless we can get the sickness under control. No one likes lying around in bed all the time.”

  “There’s Marcia and all the other women at the clubhouse. They’re already keeping her company and trying to help.”

  She nods.

  “Long term? If she continues the pregnancy, what’s the prognosis?”

  “The strange thing about this condition is that it can disappear or lessen as the months go on. The worst case scenario is if it continues to the end. Then, as soon as she starts to give birth it will stop. She’ll need to regain her strength, which could take time, but there shouldn’t be any long-term physical complications.”

  If I hadn’t been a soldier I might not have noticed, but the effects of injury come in many forms. I address what she hasn’t said, “Physical? What about mental?”

  Another up and down of her head. “You’ve served. You understand PTSD.”

  Only too well. I know a lot of my mood swings are down to not only my service, but what happened in the California fire.

  “It might not appear to be the same thing, but what Allie is going through is traumatic.”

  It is. I just had it at the back of my mind, if she went the whole nine months and delivered a healthy baby, that would be the end of it. Especially if I made sure it couldn’t happen again. Now she’s warning me Allie might live with the results for the rest of her life.

  “Therapy, support. There are ways to help. You’ll just need to be aware of it.”

  “Is there a higher risk of post-partum depression?”

  She sighs. “I won’t lie to you, some people believe there’s a link. Truck, I’m being straight with you here as I think you’re a man who can cope if you know what you’re dealing with. The best you can do for Allie is be by her side and support her whatever her particular needs turn out to be.”

  I can certainly do that.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Truck…

  I drive back to the compound hating that there’s an empty seat beside me. Once I’ve parked, I have no inclination to go up to my suite alone.

  A fucking drink. That’s what I need.

  Of course, I don’t get to the bar unmolested.

  “Hey, Truck. What did you think of Dr Cassidy?”

  “She’s good. Very good,” I say absentmindedly.

  “Did Allie get on with her?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  Heart looks at me oddly. “She back in her suite?”

  Sadly, I move my head side to side. “They’re keeping her in.” I describe how I last saw her, with a cannula in the back of her too thin hand. “Saline, and they’re giving her a blood transfusion as she’s badly anaemic.”

  Heart’s hand lands on my back. “Allie’s in the right place, Truck. Know you’ll have hated leaving her, but hey, they know how to look after her. Hopefully it will only be for a day or two.”

  He’s right, and that’s what I’m holding onto, and hoping it won’t be too long before she’s back where she belongs. With me.

  “What’s up Truck?” I go through the story again for Blade and Peg. Thereafter it seems to spread around the clubhouse.

  Swinging around, I spy Mouse and Mariana. His arm is around her, holding her close. Now why couldn’t we be like them? They’ve decided to wait on kids, and are just enjoying each other. They haven’t had any accidents. Nah, it was just me and Allie who pulled the short straw.

  By the time I go across the room to them, they’ve already heard the news.

  “So sorry, Truck. It must be fuckin’ hard comin’ back alone.”

  I shrug. Hate leaving her there, but if they can help her feel better, she’s in the best place. It would be better if she wasn’t pregnant at all.

  Now I’m talking to him, though, I’ll seize the opportunity. “Wanted a word, Mouse.”

  “Whatcha need?” He jerks his chin toward Mariana who, smiling, takes the hint and wanders off in the direction of Sophie and Marcia.

  I pull up a chair, and sit, leaning forward so my hands are clasped between my knees. “Allie’s mom.”

  “Want me to find her?”

  “Yeah. I, er, don’t want to ask Allie for information.”

  Mouse looks at me. “Whatever it takes?”

  I shrug, not knowing what he’s talking about.

  I realise in two seconds as Mouse puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. Peg reaches over the bar and turns the music off.

  “Allie. Anyone got any info about her? Where she came from? Where she lived?” Mouse calls out.

  I realise instantly he’s thinking she might have let information drop over the years that she’s been here. So worried about her, I don’t care where the information comes from, even if it was pillow talk. Got over my jealousy weeks ago. If anyone knows anything, it just might help.

  It’s actually Dollar who steps forward. He draws up another chair, but doesn’t sit. Instead he places one foot on it and leans over. “She’s from Phoenix. Came to Tucson on the first Greyhound out of town.” His brow creases for a moment. Then he brightens and comes up with the name of a street. “I’d had family there myself, wanted to see whether there was any connection.”

  “Good enough for me.” Mouse drinks his soda, then, after blowing a kiss across the room to Mariana, gets up. “I’ll have her full name and current address in moments.”

  “He will, too.” The treasurer nods admiringly after Mouse as he walks off. “Truck, I—”

  I hold up my hands to stop him. “Got over that a long time ago, Brother. Don’t care about history or how you know what you do. Got enough to deal with, with what’s ahead. I’m just glad everyone here loves her, you know? She’s going to need everyone’s support.”

  “As are you, Truck. You’re not having it easy, either.” He straightens, then moves around the table, taking Mouse’s seat on the couch. “You planning on contacting her mother? Don’t know if Allie would thank you for that. Mind you,” he adds quickly, “you know her better than anyone else.”

  “Her condition might be hereditary,” I explain. “Just want to find out if her mother suffered it to, and if she did, whether she found anything that helped.”

  He’s thoughtful for a moment, then says, “You want company when you have that address? Count me in.”

  Of course I’d like someone along. Since that morning when Allie first got ill, I’ve only had a few short rides on my bike. Sometimes just to clear my head, sometimes as it was a way to get from A to B quickly. A two-hour ride to Phoenix, if that’s where her mom still lives, would be a bit of a stretch.

  I raise my chin to acknowledge his offer, then warn, “I don’t want Allie to know. You’re right, she’s left that part of her past behind, and she’s got enough to deal with as it is.”

  Dollar nods. Then changes the sub
ject. “You alright, financially?”

  I shake my head. “She’s got no social security number, so she can’t register for Medicaid. I added her to my health insurance, but there’s the co-pay.”

  “You qualify for Medicaid, Truck?”

  I shake my head. “Not while I’m getting full disability from being a firefighter.”

  “So, you’re screwed.”

  “That’s about it.”

  Dollar stares at me, his lips thin. “Let’s hope Allie improves soon.”

  “The only good news is that she’s getting more help because she’s pregnant. If she was dying of cancer, there’d be nothing at all.”

  The treasurer shakes his head, acknowledging my point.

  They kept Allie in for three days. I was pleased to have her home, noticing immediate signs of improvement, more colour in her face for one thing. But it soon became obvious what they’d done was only a temporary fix, not a permanent solution. She has medication, yes, but as soon as she swallows it, it comes back up. Anything by mouth and her body rejects it.

  At the back of my mind is the niggling thought that if Allie’s mom experienced it, maybe she found something to help.

  Even though I’m loath to leave Allie for a day, something drives me to get all the information I can without delay, and I can rely on Sam and the other women to make sure she wants for nothing while I’m gone. So two days later, Dollar and I set out for Phoenix and the address Mouse had found. Allie accepts the excuse of club business without question.

  I’m guilty as I realise I’m enjoying the ride, appreciating the fresh air wafting past. It seems all I smell recently is sickness, all I feel is helplessness that I can do nothing to help my wife, and a burning rage that bad luck has caused this.

  We stop to remove our cuts once out of our territory, and store them in our saddle bags.

  “You doing okay, Truck?”

  “I’m doing fine,” I reply, absently.

  “Look, I may be speaking out of line, but you’ve got to look after yourself too, Brother.”

  I look at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

  “Your whole focus is Allie and what she needs. This trip out today, even that’s for her. You’ve done nothing for you since you found out she was pregnant.”

  It’s true. But, what else can I do? I’m responsible for getting her into this mess, least I can do is live it with her.

  Dollar leans back against his bike and folds his arms. “Truck, I understand that you don’t like us pointing this out, but Allie’s been in the club a long time. That woman’s got a heart of gold, you think she doesn’t feel guilty she’s tying you down? You think she doesn’t look at Marcia and Becca, and see them laughing with their men? That’s what pregnancy should look like, getting ready to welcome a little one into the fold, not looking like death and being confined to bed.”

  Now it’s my turn to stare at him. “Allie’s not letting me down. My fuckin’ fault she’s like she is.”

  Dollar shrugs. “Far as I’m concerned, even if the pregnancy was planned, no one could have predicted this shit. But I bet it’s playing on her mind.”

  He could be right. Allie hates being a burden, but I don’t think that’s what she is. Suddenly I round on him. Being away from the club, away from Allie, it’s like a dam has burst inside me. “For fuck’s sake, Dollar. The only person who might hold a clue to what’s going on is the person I’m hoping to see today. Allie’s innocent. If her fuckin’ mom held back information she should have known, we could have…” I slap my fist into my other hand, but don’t have a chance to complete my thoughts.

  “Could have… what, Truck? Not fallen in love? Not fucked? You couldn’t have done any more than what you had. I rely on condoms, so do all the others. You don’t need me to tell you what the odds were against what happened to you. As for her mom? You gonna be able to hold it together? ‘Cause looking at you now, you look like you want to kill someone, and I didn’t come equipped to deal with a body today.”

  I swing around, looking away from him, trying to analyse exactly what I want.

  His voice continues from behind me. “Even if her mom had known, she might not have thought it was something she could pass on. And if she didn’t suffer in the same way, you going to try find a grandma or someone else to fuckin’ blame?”

  “No one’s to blame,” I say, tightly.

  “Hallelujah. At fuckin’ last.” He’s still talking to my back. “No one. Not you, not Allie, and not her mom.”

  My voice is more controlled when eventually I reply, “That’s what’s so frustrating, Dollar. There’s no enemy I can take down. I can’t fuckin’ stand it.”

  His hand slaps my back, and then again more lightly as a gesture of understanding and support. Then, after I stretch to get the kinks out of muscles that haven’t been used for riding this far in such a long time, I raise my chin to show I’m ready, and we get back on our bikes to continue the ride.

  When we arrive at our destination, I check out the house Mouse has told us is where Allie grew up. It’s a nice enough home, though looks like it could do with some work, and a clean-up of the front yard. I try to picture her as a little girl, playing with friends in the neighbourhood, skipping down the path to go to school. Then, remembering her childhood wasn’t all happiness and light, feel a scowl appear on my face as I approach the front door.

  I rap on it. It’s opened by a youth, who quickly tries to slam it shut. Yeah, a big angry man with a scarred face? He’s probably wise. But, anticipating such a reaction, my steel-toe capped boot is already in the door.

  “Who are you? What do you want? We’ve got nothing to steal.”

  “Not here to rob ya. Just want a word with your mom. Jason, isn’t it?”

  He doesn’t seem any more relaxed that I know his name. “Yeah. What do you want with mom?”

  “Who is it, Jase?” A woman comes up behind him. She’s leaning on a stick and frowns when she sees Dollar and me.

  “Mrs Martins?” I’m sure it is without her confirmation. She’s got a look of Allie in her eyes. “I’ve come about your daughter.”

  She shrugs. “I haven’t got a daughter.”

  Bitch.

  “Mom?” Jason swings around to her, a surprising look of condemnation on his face, then turns back to me. “You know my sister? You know where she is?” His questions sound eager.

  Allie never mentioned much about her brother, or how she’d got on with him. But I decide to give it to him straight. “Yeah, I know her. She’s my wife.”

  Allie’s mom snorts. “Figures.” She waves at my tattooed arms. “You look like a thug.”

  I hear Dollar’s sharp intake of breath. “I’m a retired firefighter and vet,” I state.

  “That how you got those scars?”

  “Yes,” I answer the young man.

  Jason’s eyes widen in something that’s akin to respect. “So how’s Alison? Where do you live?”

  “Jase,” his mom says warningly.

  Ignoring Jason for a moment, my eyes fix on the woman whose eyes have gone icy. “Allie’s sick. That’s why I’m here. I was wondering whether it was hereditary.”

  “Sick, how?” To his credit, her brother sounds concerned.

  “Pregnant and suffering from Hyperemesis Gravidarum.” I watch for a hint of recognition in her mom’s eyes.

  Allie’s mom looks at me incredulously, then she starts to laugh. She laughs until tears are running down her face and she’s bent double with her hands clasping her stomach.

  All three of us gaze at her in surprise.

  “Mom?” Jase asks, hesitantly. Then his voice firms. “We’ve just heard my sister is ill. Where’s the joke in that?”

  “Alison tried to kill me from the moment she was conceived. I hated her in the womb, still hate her now.” She stops to chuckle again. “It’s rich she’s going through the same thing. Justice at last.”

  Christ. Her mom blames Allie? The reason why Allie’s childhood was so har
d is now easier to comprehend, though it’s hard for me to take in. Allie wouldn’t hate her child, would she? Nah. If she did, she wouldn’t be continuing the pregnancy.

  My eyes narrow with thinly disguised hatred for the woman in front of me. “You never thought to warn her?” I ask, grimly. “Never thought to say that if she had kids, the same thing might happen to her?”

  “What? No. Why should I? Didn’t happen with him.” She points to Jason. “Jason I loved even before he was born.”

  I’m here, I have to try. “Did you find a remedy? Any treatment that helped you?”

  “Of course not, the whole pregnancy was a battle between her and me.” She pauses, and then thinks. “Tell her to do what I wished I’d done with her. Get rid of it.”

  Jason turns his back on her, pushes past us and steps outside the door. He paces the small front yard. Not trusting myself to say anything more to Allie’s bitch of a mother, I, too, go outside, followed by Dollar.

  It’s clear Jason is processing what he just heard.

  After a moment he turns to us. “Never knew that. Knew mom preferred me, thought that was just because she’d wanted a son, and I was getting good grades. I’m at the university now,” he mentions, with justified pride. “I was eight when Alison left. I was a brat, I know that now. I was just a kid. I suppose I lapped up the attention she never had. Didn’t know there was a reason for it.” His mouth narrows. “Not like that.” He looks concerned. “Is Alison going to be okay? Can I visit her? I’d like a chance to make up for how I ignored her when she was here. Would like to get to know my sister now.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m not sure,” I admit. “She doesn’t know I’m here. I wasn’t going to tell her. Her doctor asked about her family history, I came to find out. Seems I didn’t get the answer I was looking for.” I’d got an explanation instead.

  “Does she hate the kid she’s carrying?”

  I’m truthful in my response. “She hates how it’s making her feel.”

  “Why her? Why didn’t it happen with me?” he asks, thoughtfully.