“It’s more likely to happen with girls,” I explain. “Your mom took a risk getting pregnant again.”
“I was a ‘happy’ accident,” he explains, with a quick grin. “An unplanned reunion with my deadbeat dad. Of course, he just took off again immediately afterward.”
“You in contact?”
“Nah. You’ve, er, seen my mom. If she knows where he is, she hasn’t told me. Look, I’ll give you my number. If Alison will see me, I’d like to visit with her, and get to know my niece when she’s born.”
“It could still be a nephew.”
“Whatever.” His shoulders rise up and down. “If she doesn’t want to know me, I’ll understand. We weren’t close when she was here.”
I nod, then indicate to Dollar I’m ready to leave.
During the ride back to Tucson, I think about what I’ve found out today. Could there be a chance Allie would turn out like her mom, and hate the baby?
Heaven forbid, but it’s just one more thing to worry about.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Four weeks later
Allie…
Pussy sniffs disdainfully as she walks into the suite. “Smells like a fucking hospital in here.”
Yeah, it does. Disinfectant everywhere. I’m so weak, and the bouts of sickness come on so fast, I sleep with a bowl beside me.
“You doing okay, Puss?”
She perches on the end of the bed. “Better than you for sure. Is it worth it?” She waves at my swollen stomach. I’ve lost so much weight everywhere else it makes it noticeable.
Is it worth it? I ask myself that question so many times every day. Truck, I know, would rather I halt this now while I still can, but he’s not the one carrying a new life inside. I’ve had more thoughts about killing myself, than killing my baby. I’m convinced I won’t survive this pregnancy, so why not just hasten the inevitable myself?
I never wanted a family, never saw myself with kids. Not even sure I’d make anything approximating a good mom. I certainly didn’t have a good example. All my life I’ve had to fight for myself, addressing any challenge put in front of me. Deep down I suspect I’m continuing with this because I’ve always been a fighter, and this is just one more obstacle placed in front of me.
A flutter in my stomach, I put my hand on the spot, wondering if it’s the baby moving, but this early, it’s probably just gas.
“You’re having a girl?”
“Yeah, it was confirmed last week. Statistics show it was always most likely. This condition occurs more often with girls.”
“Thought of any names?”
I shake my head. The idea I’ll survive the full nine months is so unlikely, I can’t imagine ever holding a baby in my arms. Naming her seems overly optimistic.
“Pussy, it’s good to see you, but you’ve got something on your mind.” I hadn’t lived in the same house as her so long to be unable to read her.
Ignoring my question, she picks up a magazine that someone brought me. “What’s this?” she asks, distracted by something falling out. A transparent tinted piece of plastic.
“It helps me read,” I tell her. “With that on the page the words stay put and don’t move around. Mouse found the idea on the internet, and it works.” It’s actually one of the many different coloured overlays Mouse has tried, we’ve finally found the one which seems best. “He’s going to get tinted glasses to help me.”
I can’t express how much difference it makes. Without it, the words shimmer making it hard for me to read. Still doesn’t mean I can easily make out the words yet, painfully trying to put the letters together and work out the sounds, but it gives me hope that one day I might be able to learn properly. At the back of my mind is the thought I’d like to be able to read to my baby. If we both survive.
She throws down the magazine, losing interest. Then looks at me. “You know, bikers have prison benefits?”
Of course I do. Not that it’s ever been used in the Tucson club that I’m aware of. Mind you, we haven’t had men locked up for years. Prison benefits are where other members see to the physical needs of the old lady when her man goes inside. My eyes narrow as I’ve a suspicion where she’s going with this.
“You,” she indicates me and my swollen belly, “obviously can’t see to Truck. Me and the other girls wondered if we should take care of his needs for you.”
My initial reaction is complete horror. It’s true. I’m so sick and weak, Truck and I haven’t been intimate since we found out I was pregnant. He hasn’t asked, hasn’t indicated he wants to have sex, but what man would? He wouldn’t risk starting some action only for me to puke before we’d even got going. What a turn off.
I open my mouth to dismiss it, not wanting to think of my man with anyone else, only to suddenly wonder whether he should have the choice or not. Am I being selfish? What if I die? It’s only a matter of time before Truck goes with someone else, and no one knows better than I that with the whores, there’d be no emotional involvement. That’s what they, and previously I, were there for.
Or is she asking because she thinks she might have a chance with a man who can put the knowledge his woman was a sweet butt behind him?
Pussy notices I’m not jumping at the idea, and shakes her head. “Oh, well, just something for you to think about. If you want to let your man off the leash, we’ll be happy to take over for you.”
Have I got Truck on a leash? Possibly. He’s tied to a woman who’s more than half dead. Not what he signed up for.
My few minutes of peace are up as my stomach revolts. Knowing I can’t make the bathroom in time, I pick up the bowl placed next to me.
Pussy’s eyes widen at the sound of me retching, and all but runs out the door, slamming it behind her.
It’s opened seconds later, and my man is there.
Truck pulls back my hair, and strokes my head as I bring up bile and the few sips of water I’d managed to drink. Then, when I’ve finished, he takes the bowl into the bathroom. He’s back in moments, the bowl now clean, he replaces it beside me.
I lean back on the pillows, exhausted.
“You didn’t sign up for this, Truck.”
He stares at me intensely. “Al, darlin’. You’re my old lady. I signed up for all the shit, good and bad, sickness and health. Okay, so this isn’t quite where we saw things going, but I’ll be by your side whatever happens. I love you, Al. What I hate is seeing you this way.”
“I’m getting worse, not better.”
He stands, paces, rakes his hands over his bald head. “There’s still time to end this, Allie. No, don’t say no. I’m fuckin’ scared I’m going to lose you. Think about it, please? You could be done with all this in a moment.”
“Come here.” I beckon him over. Then, with what little strength I have, wrench his hand toward me and place it on my stomach. “That’s your daughter in there.”
For a moment his eyes soften, then they harden again. “And you’re my wife. Fuck, woman. Yeah, I’d love a daughter, love to hold her in my arms. But if losing you is the cost, I don’t want to pay it.”
“You’d be a good father, Truck, if I was here or not.” That’s one thing I don’t need to worry about. If I give my life to save hers, Truck wouldn’t turn his back on her.
“You can’t say that, Allie. Remember Heart? He deserted Amy without a backward glance when Crystal was killed.”
“She was loved, Truck, by the club. Drummer and Sam took care of the kid until he came back to his senses.” Maybe if we were somewhere else, with no family to support him, I’d be more worried. But this baby will have cousins, uncles and aunts, not related by blood, but who will love her. I’m sure of that.
“She’s killing you, Al.”
“I’m still here.”
I know what he wants. Oh, the thought of being normal again is tantalising. Just one word from me, and the doctor would perform the procedure. That she’s indicated she would have no hesitation in recommending it, shows how ill I am. But that fighter
inside me tells me not to give up.
“What did Pussy want?” His eyes narrow as he changes the subject.
I sigh, knowing I’ve got to give him the option. “She reminded me about prison rights, and drew comparisons about your lack of action.”
“What the fuck?” he rears back.
I harden my soul. “Truck, you have needs…”
“And I’ll handle them myself or wait until you’re well again. Fuck, Al. You think I’d go with a club girl when you’re lying so sick?”
“This isn’t what you expected, Truck.”
“Expectations? Nah, I wanted an old lady riding behind me. Instead, I got her pregnant. Instead, I put her life at risk. The last thing I fuckin’ want, Al, is more sex with anyone.”
“You wouldn’t want sex with me?” Now my eyes go wide.
“Of course that’s what I fuckin’ want. But you, like this? You’re too weak and I’m not a selfish bastard. You’re growing my baby, Allie. If that means I go without, that’s the sacrifice I’ll be making. And I’ll be having words with that whore. How dare she upset you?”
“If I die…”
“You’re not fuckin’ going to die, Al.” His working eye blazes with emotion.
“Promise me, Truck. If I do, and she’s born alive, you’ll take care of her.” Again I grab hold of his hand and hold it tightly, which, for me, is weakly.
“I won’t let it get to that point,” he insists. “If she’s born alive, you’ll be there to look after her.”
“It wouldn’t matter, Truck, I doubt I’ll make a good mother.”
“What the ever loving fuck?” I’ve shocked him again. His brow furrows. “Do you hate her, for putting you through this?”
The question surprises me. I take a moment to consider. “No, it’s not her fault. I’m more worried I’m not providing everything she needs.”
“Allie, you’re giving her your fuckin’ all.”
“What if it’s not enough?” I whisper, voicing my fear that arises in the dead of the night. What if I’m going through all this, and she’s also suffering?
“Look at you, Allie. You’re little more than a skeleton. You couldn’t give more of you if you tried. The doctor is monitoring her carefully, she’s a little small, but everything seems to be in the right place.”
Low birthweight, early delivery, that’s in the cards, but indications show she shouldn’t be permanently damaged. But there are no guarantees, in anything.
“I don’t hate her, Truck.” I may not love her yet, but not because she’s hurting me. I’m keeping deliberately detached in case she doesn’t come to be. She didn’t ask for this, just like I hadn’t. He stands and paces again. There’s something on his mind, I recognise the symptoms. “Spit it out, Truck.”
“If I tell you something, promise not to hate me?”
That’s easy. “Nothing you could do would upset me, Truck.” Unless he asks me for the one thing he wants, for me to abort my baby.
“A few weeks back, I went to see your mother.”
I’m stunned, shocked. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t want to upset you.”
“So why tell me now?”
He sighs deeply. “She had this HG thing when she was pregnant with you.”
Dr Cassidy had suggested it ran in families. I close my eyes, thinking of our previous conversation, and this new revelation. “Is that the reason she hated me so much,” I say, at last.
“Yeah, she blamed you.”
“I don’t remember much about Jason, whether she…”
“She didn’t have it with him, or not so badly,” Truck interrupts.
I lay my hand on my stomach and reaffirm. “I don’t hate her.”
He knows I’m referring to the baby I’m carrying. “Would be easier if you did, darlin’. Then, maybe, you wouldn’t carry on.”
I give a weak smile. “I feel like we’re in this together.”
“I met your brother too. Jason wants to visit you. He knows he was only a kid when you were at home, and just lapped up his mom’s attention without noticing you weren’t getting any. He’d like to get to know his big sister properly.”
“Not now,” I reply fast. It’s not that I don’t want to see my brother. It could be good to reconnect, or at least get to know the young man he’s grown into, but it takes all my energy to take air into my lungs. Dealing with an awkward situation would be beyond me.
Truck nods, showing he understands.
Suddenly the smell of disinfectant gets too much. “Can you take me out for some fresh air, please?”
“Of course, babe.”
We go through the motions that are practiced now. Truck pushes Sophie’s old wheelchair that’s yet again been called into use, closer to the bed for me. Then, he picks me up. He might be weaker than before his accident, but I weigh hardly anything now, so he has little difficulty lifting me, and placing me in it. Then, he hands me that inevitable bowl.
He drapes a cardigan around my shoulders, and wheels me outside onto the balcony where I watch the afternoon sun setting over the mountains. The temperature is currently pleasantly warm, but will drop as the sun disappears. When my emaciated body shivers, he wheels me back inside, then lifts me into bed.
My eyes close, completely zapped of any energy, I fall asleep.
Twenty years in the future – Drummer
I check my phone, though I’ve lived here long enough for the disappearing sun to be sufficient indication, and the device only offers confirmation. It’s almost time.
“Lot of changes,” Peg observes. “People come, people go.”
“Some before they should.”
“Viper?”
I nod. “Like Viper.” I confirm, then briefly close my eyes. When I reopen them, the sun’s almost disappeared completely, going about its business, uncaring about the humans it shines down on, or those that are no longer around to feel its warmth. “I miss Viper. So does Sam.”
“We all do, Drummer. But hell, if there was a chance to choose how to go, what better way is there for a biker? Last thing he knew was he was riding his bike.”
My lips press together. The news had been a shock, Viper’s bike had flown over the side of Mount Lemmon. Until the coroner had made his assessment, we’d been trying to work out why the fuck Viper would have committed suicide. Turns out he’d had a heart attack which had killed him outright. He’d have been dead before he’d gone over the edge.
A good way to go? Well, Peg’s right. If Satan had decided to call in his number, there were worse ways for it to happen.
“I miss the fucker,” I tell him. Being Sam’s father, Viper had oddly become my father-in-law. Not that I’d ever made it official and put a ring on her finger, but in our world, giving her my property patch was just as significant.
“Do you ever worry?” When I cock my eyebrow at him, Peg continues, “We’re getting older, and it seems nature’s thinning our numbers.”
I shrug. “If it happens, it happens, Peg. Not much we can do about it. Life is fatal, there’s no other outcome. Long as I can keep riding, I don’t give a damn. Time marches on, and yeah, we’re losing older brothers. The club’s cycle’s continuing, prospects keep coming along, those who make the grade get patched in.”
“You’re right.” Peg muses, “Alba, Cast, and Toady are all new blood.”
“Hound and Roadkill too, as well as the kids.”
Yeah. Sharp, Bolt, Hawk, Throttle, Speed, Rev and Wizard.
Club is moving on and that isn’t a bad thing. “Satan’s Devils will still be here long after we’re gone, Peg.”
“That’s our legacy, isn’t it, Drum? What we’ll leave behind.”
We both pause a moment to think about that, then Peg suddenly chuckles. “Do you think one of those would qualify us for being able to ride a bike?”
When I see him pointing at Tommy’s mobility scooter with the Harley trimming, I almost choke when I laugh.
Chapter Thirty
&
nbsp; Six weeks later
Truck…
I walk into church and take my place, thoughts churning through my head, and not ones about the meeting ahead.
“How’s Allie?”
That Drummer’s kicked off the meeting with that question both comes as a surprise, and, in a contradiction, is unsurprising. A rare occasion saw me wheeling Allie into the clubhouse last night, a chance for her to see the Christmas tree and join in with festivities, and then she’d fainted in front of everyone.
One moment she was sitting upright in the chair, the next she was slumped over, head lolling. She hadn’t come around for a few minutes, and I’d been beside myself. An emergency call and paramedics had had to be summoned to the compound.
“In the right place.” She’s in the hospital. Again. I think this is the sixth time so far. She’ll be in a few days, this time they’re trying a feeding tube in her nose.
“The baby doing okay?” Heart asks.
Why does everyone always ask about the fucking baby? It’s Allie who concerns me. “Looks that way,” I try to reply without snapping. “She’s in this for the long haul, now.”
“They going to deliver the baby early?”
“Probably won’t have a choice.” I raise my chin toward Wraith. “That’s one of the complications.” Early can’t be soon enough for me.
“Are they keeping her in for longer this time?”
“Nah, Prez. Only for a few days.” I hate her being away from me, but am so scared when she’s at home. She looks like a strong breeze would blow her away. “They want to try a concoction of various drugs. So far, some have made her worse, some improved her sickness but she was starting to have convulsions. She needs nutrition so they are trying different ways.”
“How’s the money holding up?” Dollar asks.
“Okay.” I shrug.
“I’m worried about you, Truck.”
Me?
My eyes meet those of the prez.
“Yeah. Six months you’ve been back with us, Truck. And in those six months, there’s an anger within you which you work hard to conceal. It’s burning you up from the inside out.”
Truck Stopped: Satan's Devils MC #11 Page 26
