Now the time that’s past means that decision’s been taken out of my hands, and I may be going through all this for nothing. If Truck goes away for a long time, I’ll be on my own with a baby I never saw myself having. I can’t do this.
“Drummer,” I cry. “I can’t, I just can’t. I could put up with everything with Truck beside me. What am I going to do now?”
“You’ll continue doing just what you’re doing Allie. Fuck, woman, you’ve got the respect and admiration of the whole club for your determination to continue this pregnancy. You carry on as you are, doing this for you, for Truck, and for your daughter.” He pauses and his eyes sharpen. “You are not going through this alone. You’ve got the whole of the MC who’d drop everything to help you.”
“I’m supposed to be coming home tomorrow…” I wail, unable to keep the despair from my tone.
He anticipates my question. “If Truck can’t be here, I will be, or one of the brothers. If it comes to it, while Truck’s away, I’ll assign a prospect to you. Your choice, Hound or Roadkill. They’ll take you anywhere you need to go, get anything you need getting. We’ll be doing everything to make your life easier.”
I shake my head, not giving a damn who’s assigned to watch over me. They won’t be Truck, won’t hold me at night, won’t be there to soothe me when everything gets too much. I know this life, know what happens to brothers who go inside. If Truck’s sent down, there’s a chance he’ll never be out again.
I can’t do this alone.
I don’t want to.
My tears fall. Sobs wrack my body.
Anguish such as I’ve never felt before sweeps through me. I’m vaguely aware of a hive of activity around me. A voice I recognise saying words I barely hear, Drummer explaining the little he knows of the situation.
“This isn’t good for her or the baby. I’ll change her prescription and get Mirtazapine added to the IV. It has an anti-depressant and sedative effect. It’s lucky I was still here and hadn’t left.”
“Thank you, Doctor…”
“Cassidy.”
I hear voices continuing to talk but fade into the distance.
I’m left alone with voices in my head. Memories of my mom berating me that I was the reason my father had left. Now history’s repeating itself, maybe not for the same reason, but it seems I could end up on my own bringing up a baby who’s tried to kill me. Will I hate her too?
Why has my gentle giant of a man been arrested? I don’t understand what he could have done. Had he been carrying drugs or weapons for the club? I thought they were out of that business. But what do I know? I’m just an old lady.
Despite Drummer’s optimism, Truck isn’t released immediately.
The next day I almost don’t want to go back to the club, but there’s no reason for the hospital to keep me, though the nurse tried to joke she’d reserve the bed for next time. I didn’t feel like laughing, knowing I will be back, as I’ve needed to do every two weeks since the first time.
She wasn’t on shift last night, but the rumour mill must have started. I hear some of it as I’m getting dressed.
“Well, her husband’s a biker, she must have known what she was getting into when she married him. Who knows what those Satan’s Devils are up to? They’re a criminal gang after all.”
Anger rises, but I haven’t the energy to do what I would have done before I got pregnant, so the nurses go without getting a piece of my mind. There’s part of me that agrees with them, I did know what I was getting into. There was always a possibility that Truck’s association with the club would come back to bite him. I just never expected it would actually happen. Not right here, not right now, when every fibre of my being needs him.
Though I’ve hoped, wished, looked up each time I hear footsteps, hoping to see my man walking toward me, I’ve been disappointed.
“Ready to go?”
It’s not Truck, but Roadkill who walks in through the main doors to the ward. Good timing as I’ve just signed the discharge papers. He’s a good looking man in his mid-twenties, and has a military bearing and short haircut which shouts his service. His eyes are always slightly haunted, as if he’s seen things a young man should never see. He’s a good choice if he’s the one that’s been assigned to me. Quiet, but thoughtful, and, to an ex sweet butt, respectful.
He helps me into a wheelchair, then takes me to the truck he’d brought. “Drummer sends his apologies. All the members are having an emergency church.”
There’s no point asking him what it’s about, though I suspect the topic on the agenda is Truck. Roadkill’s only a prospect and will know little more about club business than an old lady.
He’s brought a bowl, which was thoughtful. The half-hour journey sees me being sick three times. He deals with it stoically, with sympathetic glances and grunts, but doesn’t make a big deal about it. He drives slowly and carefully, but still the motion of the car upsets me.
Stopping at the clubhouse, he helps me out.
Sam is waiting for me, Sophie’s wheelchair ready. My stomach hurts as it always does, my chest sore from retching. I wish I could walk, but my legs feel too weak to support both me and the baby growing inside.
“Allie.” One word spoken conveying so much. A sad welcome home, commiseration that my man’s not waiting for me. She must see my reddened eyes, but offers no words of compassion which, at the moment, would destroy me. She crouches down once I’m seated. “Wraith’s back, he stayed in Nogales overnight. He’s in with Drummer. They want to talk to you. You ready for that now, or want to rest?”
My eyes narrow. Of course I’m ready.
She nods. Then, without further delay she starts pushing me in through the doors of the clubhouse. It’s busy for a weekday, every brother is here. Looks like church has just let out. It’s a solemn atmosphere. Conversations already spoken in hushed voices die away when they see me coming in through the door.
I ignore the looks sent toward me, their sympathy would only make me break down, which I probably will do later. But now it’s important I stay as strong as possible and find out what the hell’s going on with my man.
Sam knocks on the door. Wraith opens it, and without a word comes around to take the handles of the wheelchair from her, and pushes me inside. Then he takes a chair to my left, and I raise my eyes to face Drummer sitting on the other side of the desk.
Wraith leans forward, clasping his hands between his spread legs. His gaze settles on me. “Some of the brothers took a ride to Nogales yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Allie,” Drummer says sharply. “What you don’t know you can’t tell. We’ll give you the information you need, but you’ve been around the club long enough to know why there may be some things we hold back.”
“Plausible deniability,” I all but snarl.
The VP continues as though I hadn’t interrupted. “The why doesn’t matter, other than they had a hankering to go for a ride out.”
There’s more to it than that. Then I realise, it’s my husband in jail. It’s possible the police might want to speak to me. If I don’t know more, I can’t give anything away.
“Go on,” I tell the VP.
“It was busy down at the border as it normally is.”
I know that. It’s one of the main crossing points between Mexico and the US.
“Truck saw something and went off on his own. Got into an altercation of some sort. Road said he hadn’t seen exactly what happened, but suddenly Truck was surrounded by armed guards and taken off.”
“Why? What the hell’s going on?”
“We’ve just heard more details, Allie. Dart and Alex flew up to Tucson last night, and rode down to Nogales. As his lawyer, Alex was able to get in to see him.”
Dart used to be a Tucson member. I knew him well, very well, or had until Alex, now his wife, had caught his eye. Dart’s now the VP in San Diego, and the club paid for Alex to finish her schooling and get her law degree. To repay them, she acts as the club lawyer.
“What did Truck tell her?”
“There was a woman and her child. They’d come across the border. For some reason, a member of ICE wasn’t happy with them, and called them back. Instead of turning, they’d started walking faster, the border guard ran after them. Truck saw him trying to stop them by yanking on the ponytail of the child, making her scream in pain and fright. She was about five years old, Truck said.”
“He intervened?”
“Yeah, he got involved. His fist caught the border guard, hard. The woman and child got away in the confusion, and so ICE started on him instead. He started throwing more punches around…”
“Is he okay?” I don’t give a damn about who he hit.
“Got bruising to his jaw, and his eye is black.”
My hand covers my mouth. He can’t risk his good eye.
“He’s okay, Allie.” Drummer says sharply, taking over the story. “But he’s been charged with a Class A misdemeanour of assault.”
“Which means?” That sounds serious.
“We don’t know. Alex is talking to him about a plea. It’s pretty clear he’s guilty, but whether he should admit that or not, she’ll discuss with him. There were enough border guards there witnessing it.”
“He could just get a fine or probation,” Wraith puts in.
“Or, serve time?” I hold my breath, waiting for the answer, hoping in vain to be contradicted.
“He could serve time.” Drummer’s stark declaration rings through the room.
Twenty years in the future – Drummer
“The knocks kept coming that year, didn’t they Drum? We’d have cancelled Christmas if it hadn’t been for the kids.”
I press my lips together as I think about the part I played in it. If I hadn’t sent Truck to Nogales…
Peg glances at me. “Dark times, yes, but that wasn’t the only one.”
“We have had others,” I admit.
Peg’s jaw tightens. Showing he’s on the same wavelength, his next question isn’t unexpected. “Speaking of which, how’s Ella doing?”
“She’s doing okay, Faith too I think. Hit us all hard losing Slick.”
“Another bad time for the club. Seeing a man brought so low.”
It had been. Slick had given up cigarettes when Ella had gotten pregnant, trouble was, the damage had already been done. The lung cancer had spread before they caught it. He’d become a skeleton of a man. Slick kept riding as long as he could, but it beat him in the end.
“Ella proved her strength. She cared for that man right up to the day he took his last breath, and didn’t break until the funeral.”
I nod slowly. It was never good to lose a brother, but with Slick we had time to prepare, if you ever could for something so devastating. Ella had been welcome at the club, could even have moved back to the compound if that’s what she wanted, but instead she and her daughter, Faith, had moved to Colorado to be close to Jayden and Paladin, and her nieces and nephews.
“Didn’t think Pal would make sergeant-at-arms. The lad did good.”
Lad? “That kid you’re talking about is in his early forties now.”
“I’ll always remember him as the scrawny kid who prospected alongside Hank,” Peg tells me with no apology.
“I did have my doubts he and Jayden would last, but they’ve still only got eyes for each other.”
“They did it right. Waited a few years before starting a family.”
I chuckle. “Once they did, they didn’t know when to stop. What is it now? Three boys and two girls?”
“Think so, I lost count. Youngest was born last year, wasn’t she? Think that was a girl.”
“I think Pal should tie a knot in it,” I observe. “But if anyone can handle a big family, Jay can. We missed her babysitting when she left the club.”
“And now she’s got Ella to help her. With that brood around, I expect it’s a comfort now that she’s not got her old man.”
“Life moves on, doesn’t it, Peg? We take it day by day, never expecting changes, but they happen just the same.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Allie…
“I want to go see him.”
“Allie, you can’t even walk. It’s an hour and a half drive at least from here, you’d be sick as a fuckin’ dog.”
“I’ll be sick sitting here doing nothing…”
“You can’t help. You think it would help Truck if you struggled down to see him? He’ll be worried enough about you as it is. He wouldn’t thank me if I let you go to him.”
“There’s nothing you can do,” Wraith supports his prez. “He was wearing his cut, so they know his affiliations, but luckily his gun was stashed in his bike which Road managed to get hidden out of sight. Prospects are already on their way to bring it back.”
I don’t give a damn about his bike. Only the implication that he won’t be riding it home, as I say urgently, “No bail?”
“Bail denied.”
A wave of sickness comes over me, I try to push it down. Wraith quickly passes me a waste paper bin. Ashamed, I use it. Drummer pushes a tissue across the desk and I wipe my mouth.
I get straight back to the matter in hand. “What’s the worst-case scenario?”
Drummer shakes his head. “Alex says a twelve-month sentence could be in the cards.”
The baby chooses that moment to kick, and I place my hand over where I felt the flutter. Yeah, bad news for both of us, kid. She could be nine months old by the time he comes out.
I can’t. I just can’t.
I thought I could hold off, break down when I was on my own later, but any strength I had seems to seep out, and I bend over, putting my head in my hands, unable to stop the sobs. Wraith’s there, his strong arms around me. He doesn’t seem to care my tears are dampening his cut.
“Let it out. Let it all out, Allie.”
I grasp at his leather vest, but it’s not the same as Truck’s. He smells different, and it’s not him I want holding me. When my tears start to dry up, I make an effort to pull myself together, and gently he eases away.
“It might not come to that, Allie. Let’s hope he gets probation. Alex is going to be pushing his situation hard, that he’s a vet, and was injured as a firefighter. She’s hoping for leniency as it’s a first offence. That’s what you’ve got to do. Hope for the best, darlin’.”
“But plan for the worst,” I whisper.
I’m not stupid. Original members from Bastard’s day had been in prison when I’d first arrived here. They had never come out. Rival clubs on the inside had got to them.
Truck’s in danger if he does time.
Right now I want to be left alone, to try and process the implications of what I’ve heard today. To somehow come to terms with the idea I won’t be seeing my man, or not for some time.
“When will we know something?” I twist in the chair, looking over the desk at Drummer.
“His initial appearance will happen this afternoon. That’s when he’ll enter his plea. Then he could be made a plea offer, or a court date will be set. Alex reckons if it goes to trial, it will just be in front of the judge as most misdemeanour defendants don’t have the right to a jury trial in Arizona, especially in the case of assault.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
The prez shrugs. “A jury could be swayed by Truck’s good character. A judge might, but he’s only one man. Depends how he feels about bikers.”
“Will Alex represent him?”
“Yeah, she’ll be his defence counsel.”
I hadn’t had much to do with Alex. When she’d lived at the compound I’d been a sweet butt, and, not knowing their embryonic relationship, had tried to get Dart into my bed. We’d steered well clear of each other after that incident. All I know of her is she’s an attractive, curvaceous black woman. But if Prez trusts her, I’ll need to as well.
“You can talk to her. Dart and his old lady will be staying at the compound for a while.”
Yeah. Like she’ll want
anything to do with me. But I’ve no doubts she’ll do her job and do it well. For the sake of Truck and the club.
Stepping forward, Drummer places his hand on my shoulder. “Try not to worry, darlin’. You’ve got to take care of yourself.”
It’s a simple enough saying, but one that hits me. How can I take care of myself? I can’t eat or do anything that even involves standing as I’m liable to faint. All the things a pregnant woman is supposed to be doing, taking vitamins and shit like that is completely beyond me. I realise how much I’m going to miss Truck, and not just his company and support. It’s the hundred ways he’s taken over everything right down to the laundry, just getting on with what needs to be done without complaint, and without the need for recognition.
Now I’m reliant on friends.
As if to emphasise that, Drummer pushes me out of his office. His old lady is waiting outside.
“I’m sorry,” my eyes go to Sam. “I’m going to be such a burden.”
“Don’t be stupid,” she objects. “You’d step up for anyone else, wouldn’t you? Lean on us for a while, we don’t give a damn and are happy to help. After all, you’re incubating a Satan’s Devil.”
“Told you before, woman,” Drummer’s hand curls around her neck, “not having women members of the MC.”
Sam chuckles softly. “Marcia and I might have something to say about that. And when little ones like this are grown,” she indicates my stomach, “things might have changed. You might have moved on from being a Neanderthal.”
The prez barks a laugh. “That will probably be in Eli’s time, not mine. Or so I fuckin’ hope.”
I highly doubt female members will be allowed even then. Eli’s growing up to be the image of his old man.
Then, obviously, despite the brief interlude, my thoughts circle back around to Truck. I’m grateful when I at last reach the sanctity of my room, though it brings home that I’m really alone. There will be no Truck holding me as I sleep, no Truck rinsing the bowl after I’m sick, no Truck just doing the hundred and one things he does every day to show me how much I’m loved. No Truck. He has to be released soon.
Truck Stopped: Satan's Devils MC #11 Page 28
