by Evelyn Glass
Eventually, the nurse calls my name, unceremoniously hands me a cup to pee in, and leaves me alone in cramped exam room while she runs the same test I did at home. A few minutes later, a white coat doctor, who looks to be about my age, walks in.
“Sunny? Is that right?” She waits for me to swallow the lump in my throat before proceeding. “Well, congratulations are in order! It looks like you’re pregnant.” I glare at her, so she immediately loses the celebratory tone and moves on. “According to the notes the nurse took, it looks like you’re about eight or nine weeks along. It’s a little early for the heartbeat, but we could do a quick ultrasound to check to see if everything’s okay since you’re complaining of some stomach issues. Would you like that?”
I nod. I can’t bear to talk after hearing her confirm that I am in fact pregnant. There’s life growing in me. What am I going to do?
She helps me up to the table while the nurse wheels in a small cart with a monitor the size of my iPad hooked to it. Within a few minutes of searching, the doctor finds a white-ish gray spot floating in the center of a larger circle. Satisfied with herself, she exclaims, “Yes! There it is. That’s your baby.” She draws a few lines, measurements she explains, and makes some calculations. “It looks like the nurses’ estimates were right—about eight or nine weeks. It’s hard to tell until further along, but your dates look pretty exact to me. That would put your due date at about December 15.”
Maybe sensing my complete shock, the nurse gently presses on my shoulder as she says, “I’m going to print some pictures out for you. Would you like a copy for the dad?”
For the dad? For what dad? For the guy who I shouldn’t have slept with but did on a bet and now will have to answer to that night over and over again. For the guy who protected me, made me feel whole and wild and free, and then gave me this pulsating, beating life? For the man that I will never and should never see again?
“No,” I answer quietly and turn back to watching the small bean inside of me flicker slightly with the beat of its growing heart.
***
“Are you coming or not, Sunny? We have to leave in like ten minutes.” Larissa pounds on the door of my room in frustration. I don’t blame her. I haven’t left this room all day—not since I got back from the doctor’s office. I really don’t know what I would say or do if I could make myself leave. Nothing is the same as it was before.
“Sunny? Come on! The whole club is going. If you’re not there, you’re gonna get hell for days!” I don’t know why Larissa cares this much. Maybe it’s because the rest of the club treats her like a freaking princess when I’m not there to abuse and toss around. Maybe it’s because she likes the drama. Either way, I’m not biting. Not tonight.
Suddenly, I hear some jostling on the other side. Kitka forces her way through, snapping, “Move out of the way. Let me handle this.” She clears her throat before yelling, “Let me the hell in, Sunny, or I’ll use the goddamn skeleton key! You hear me?” There’s a beat of silence before I watch in horror as the doorknob begins to twist and the old lock turns. I grab the tear stained sonogram picture and toss it under my bed before running to open the door for her.
“What the hell are you doing, Kitka! I’m not going to the damn fight!” She pushes past me until she’s fully in the bedroom. Her steely brown eyes give me a once over, but I can’t care less about what I look like right now.
“Is she coming?” Larissa asks as she sneaks her head in.
“Get the hell out of here,” Kitka replies. “I have some business for Sunny.” My stomach instantly turns over. Whatever’s growing inside me is making my nausea so much worse with Kitka around and lurking. Larissa shuts the door quietly behind her, and we’re left alone—never a good thing with Kitka.
“What is this? Why do you think you can barge into my room like this?” I whisper. My throat scratches as I try to keep it down.
“Why can I barge in here? Hmmm… Let me see…” She pulls something out of the back of her bright red skirt and holds it up for me. That pit in my stomach sinks as I instantly recognize the positive pregnancy test from this morning. I must have dropped one of them or left it behind when I was rushing off to the doctor’s. Dammit!
Still, I have to keep it cool. I can’t let Kitka know. She’s the last person in the world I would want to figure this out. Her connections with Cobra could get me in deep shit.
“It looks like a pregnancy test,” I reply with my usual bit of sarcasm and distaste for her.
“Well, aren’t you a freaking genius. Do you know who it belongs to, Sunny?”
“I have no clue, Kitka. I can’t tell ownership by the pee on that stick.”
She sits on my bed, spreading her skirt neatly in her lap. “Well, here’s what I’m thinking. You haven’t had your period in, oh, a month or two. I would know since we’re on the same schedule. And you’ve been sick lately, right? Right. Then there’s the fact that you were the last one in the bathroom when I came home this morning. So putting all the clues together…”
“It’s not mine,” I attempt to finish her statement.
She stands again, walking straight toward me, so I have nowhere to go but to land against the wall of my bedroom. “Don’t play fucking dumb with me. I know you went to the lady doctor today. I know you were in the bathroom for a helluva long time. And I sure as fuck know what morning sickness looks like. You’re pregnant, and it’s that bastard Wilderkind’s baby, isn’t it?”
“What the hell are you—”
“I already called Killer, Sunny.”
My mind goes blank as I ask, “Why the fuck would you do that, Kitka? Do you know what you’ve done?”
“I did what is right for the club. That’s what I always do. Those boys are my boys. And when you went off and screwed one of the others, you lost all your chances with me.”
“You wanted me to sleep with him!” I shout as I push her hard in the chest. She stumbles backward as I continue to yell. “You’ve wanted me out since the day I got here. You couldn’t take that I was younger and hotter than you and that the guys wanted me more than they wanted you! You set me up, and you damn well know it!”
Kitka flies back onto the bed. Her arms held up high for protection. I raise my arm in the air with my fist balled up and ready for the smack, but a hand suddenly grabs me away and pulls me down to the ground.
“What the fuck is going on here?!” Killer roars while he towers over me. “What are you doing, Sunny?” The club president looks so out of place in my bedroom with the floral prints and the light pink comforter. His face is seized up in rage at the sight of his ladies fighting like this. The rest of the apartment goes quiet. Through the open door, I watch as the girls file out of the place as quickly as they can. No doubt they want to know what’s going on, but Killer probably ordered them off to that fight.
When the last one’s gone, Kitka holds up the pregnancy test to him. “This is why I called you, Killer. It’s hers. I know it is.” He turns it over in his hand—almost like I did when I couldn’t believe if it was real or not.
“Is this yours?” he asks without looking at me.
I gulp down the lump in my throat. It’s time to tell the truth, no matter the cost. I can’t keep this up any longer. “Yes, sir. It’s mine.”
He sits down on my vanity, the test still in his hands. “How far along are you?”
“Eight or nine weeks. They can’t really tell…”
“It’s not Ricco’s?” His voice almost sounds hopeful. I hate to burst the bubble.
“No. I didn’t sleep with him without protection. We just went on a few dates.”
“Then it’s—”
“It’s that fucking Wilderkind guy, Bear!” Kitka shouts. “This whore fucking got herself knocked up by him!”
“Shut up, Kitka,” Killer commands. “I don’t want to hear anything about this.”
“But… but it’s club rules,” she contests. “Sunny’s got to go.”
He looks down at the grou
nd towards his feet. I have no idea why he doesn’t just take my be the arm and throw me out the window. That’s what I would think a guy like Killer would do to girls like me who are stupid enough to sleep with a guy without the right protection.
After a long pause where both Kitka and I stare at him in wonder, he calmly explains, “I’m not kicking her out. It was her duty to sleep with Bear that night as the prize. I agreed to it. I am responsible for this.”
“WHAT!” Kitka’s voice thunders through the empty apartment. “She made a bet with me that she could sleep with him.”
“Then it’s your fault too,” he shoots back. “You are in with club leadership. You should fucking know better than to play that game. That goes for you too, Sunny. I should kick both your sorry asses out of the club, but I’m loyal to Cobra and, like I said, I’m taking responsibility for what went down between Bear and you.”
He stands and heads towards the window. “I’m taking claim on you, Sunny. You’re gonna be an old woman for Cobra.”
“What! Cobra is my… he’s my…!” Kitka looks towards me desperately, but I don’t dare question Killer when he’s showing me mercy.
“You’re going to sleep with him and soon. There’s going to be no denying that the baby isn’t his. After it’s born, Cobra can leave you, and you can get the money the club owes you and the child.”
“No. No, please Killer.”
“This is punishment for you too, Kitka. You’re no one’s boss around here, and it’s fucking time you learned that lesson. What is said in this room goes no further or you’ll end up where I should be putting you. You get me?”
Her feet tap into the ground as I can see her literally bite her tongue. “Is that it?” she asks, breaking her silence. “Is that all you want from me? Can I go?”
Killer dismisses her with his hand, leaving only us in the room. The man’s shadow casts long on my floor as he stands there before the window undoubtedly watching Kitka storm off into the early night.
I’m not sure what to say in a moment like this. He is saving me, throwing me a lifeline, but he most likely knows that putting me with a guy like Cobra is dangerous. Cobra’s the kind of guy who is best described as a ticking time bomb. He’s unpredictable, hard to read, and untamed. No one but Kitka can keep up with him or take him on like she can. Killer’s throwing me into a lone, hungry wolf’s den without a way out or a gun to fight myself off with.
“What if he says no?” I ask under my breath. “What am I supposed to do?”
“He will say yes. I will make sure of it. But you need to do your fucking part by making it work with Cobra, and keep yourself away from the Wilderkind. They get word of it, and they’ll come gunning for that baby and for you for hiding it. I’m not gonna have a war break out over some bastard baby.”
“Okay,” I say with a resigned sigh. “I can do that. I can sleep with Cobra.”
“Good because you don’t have any other choice, Sunny.”
He walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. With the apartment quiet again, I pick up the photo from under the bed and place it on my pillow. I quickly strip down and curl up under the light comforter. The pillow rests next to my head as I whisper to the dot of a baby. “I know it’s gonna be hard, kid. But we’re gonna make it. I’m gonna do whatever I have to do to keep us alive and safe—even if it means keeping you away from your real daddy.”
The sunlight dies, my room turns a blue-ish black, and I dream of Bear and his arms draped around my body.
Chapter Eight
Bear
Outside the small locker room, the people are going crazy. I hear them chanting, screaming, and calling out my name. I used to live for this shit. I used to peek outside those doors and watch as the fight girls with their big tits and tiny T-shirts talked excitedly about me. This was my scene. But tonight, I’d rather be a million damn miles away.
“You got your head in the game, man? You look like you’re sleeping on the job.” Jack tosses a towel at me that I barely catch in my taped-up hands. Who knows how long he’s been staring at me drifting off into space. I blink rapidly and then glare back. It’s none of his business what I look like.
“Another ten minutes,” Cliff says as he paces the floor. He stares down at his phone with his fingers rushing across the keyboard. “The presidents want to let the betting go on a little bit longer before the first match. They’re probably making a killing out of it. It looks like all the riders in the tri-county are here.” He stops at the door and opens it just enough to let the sound in. The roars send shivers up my spine.
“Who is fighting first?” I ask, not really caring about the answer. Truth is, I want these guys off my fucking back. I hate having a crew in my locker room. It distracts me from my pre-bout routine, and it forces me to talk when I’d rather sit here in silence and go through my plan of attack.
“You’re last. That’s for sure. After you knocked out that Filthy Bastards guy, you’re gold to the club… at least with fighting.” He doesn’t want to mention how I’m still being demoted in every other area. I haven’t gotten my original route back since I took my Sunny prize. It has been weeks since I spoke with Vance about it, but I have been making some progress. Just last week, he stopped assigning me back-to-back graveyard shifts with the young riders. My punishment is, from how it appears, coming to a close.
Jack, always the honest one, isn’t afraid to speak his mind on the subject. “Yeah. Get one more win for the Wilderkind against the Filthy Bastards fighter tonight, and you’ll be back up on top. No one’s gonna question your loyalty if you knock him out in the first round.”
“That’s not gonna happen,” I tell him, shaking my head. I’ve got confidence and the balls to back it up, but I’m also realistic. I haven’t trained in a month. The shifts and demotion have kept me from working out, and my mind has been everywhere else but the gym when I was able to get in a few hours at the weights and cardio machines.
“The guy’s a legit fighter,” I justify myself. “He’s not some fucking pansy they think is gonna be able to take a hit because he’s 250 pounds of muscle. They’re gonna be smarter about it this round.” I had time to do my research on the guy they are putting me up against. He’s not a huge name in the boxing circles. My old coach had zero clue who he was, but he eventually found his info from one of the smaller training circles. The guy took some classes and advanced pretty fast through the amateur rings. That was dangerous enough—young, stupid, and somewhat skilled. Those guys were the ones you couldn’t prepare for.
There’s a muffled knock at the door, and us three spin on our toes to see Vance and Killer before us. I have forgotten about this part. They all look a little green in their face as Vance takes a step forward. “You know how this goes, Bear. What do you want if you win?”
I don’t even hesitate. No way in hell am I getting in trouble like I did the last time. “Ten percent of the winnings from the bookies, top shelf alcohol, and a $500 prize.” I reach out my hand and practically grab Vance’s arm to seal the deal. Both of them nod coldly at me and then take a step backward. They each take turns eyeing me as they make their decision.
Finally, Killer comes back and says, “It’s done. Good luck out there. You’re gonna need it tonight.” He’s always a hard one to read, but tonight, I’m getting a strange vibe off of him. There’s no smugness; no arrogant bastard attitude that I’m used to from Vance. He is, instead, stone-faced and all business. He can barely look me in the eye as he shakes my hand. Something about it throws me off. What the hell is this guy up to that he can’t treat me like a fucking man?
“We’ll see,” I reply, a cocky smile plastered on my face. If this was his ploy to psych me out, it sure as shit isn’t going to work on me. I am too experienced for that mental mind fuck, and I’m too cold to let some sorry ass excuse for a club president get to me. I turn back to my crew with my fists pounding into one another, finally pumped up to get out of this dressing area and into the crowd. I could pract
ically feel their vibrations through the ceiling and floor.
Jake stands next to me, his hand on my shoulder, as he whispers, “This is your time, Bear. You get this win, and you’re back on top. No one in their right fucking mind is gonna question who you are or where your loyalties are. You hear me?” I growl in response, and he continues, “Good! Get that damn fighting spirit going and do this for the Wilderkind!” All three of us shout together, howling towards the ceiling. The adrenaline has begun pumping through my veins, coursing up to my brain. I grab my towel and sweatshirt, and we’re out.
“Oh my God! Bear! Bear!” one of the women in the crowd shouts as we pass a line of club girls sitting at the top of the bleachers. “You can do it, Bear! Just think of what we have in store for you when you win!” I turn my head just in time to see the brown-haired biker bitch maven lean across one of the other women for a juicy, deep kiss. Her hands massage at her round and full boobs just slightly. I lick my lips in return. That’s some meat I could bite into.
