by Evelyn Glass
I’m too lost in my own thoughts to notice the sound of the bikes roaring to a stop next to mine. Maybe it’s because I’m immune to the smell of gasoline or the sight of boots on the ground to think them out of place at a women’s clinic, but it’s a fatal mistake. As soon as I’m seated on my bike, I’m knocked down by a man throwing himself on me. My Harley, the one possession I care about most in my life, topples over me. I managed to yank my leg off so I’m not pinned under, but the man’s weight keeps me stuck to the ground without the bike’s help. A fist slams into my face, and I hear the ringing in my ears. It distracts me from the boot slamming into my side. I manage to roll myself over, crawling on the gravel with my fingers digging into the dirt.
Above me, a hazy figure leans over towards my shoulders and pulls me to my feet. Even with my busted eye, I can make out Cobra’s giant snake tattoo as he winds up for another slam. This time, I’m ready. I duck straight down, landing an elbow to his chest. With a burst, I deck him in the cheek so hard that the blood splatters out of his mouth. He clearly isn’t a fighter because he makes the rookie mistake of opening up his chest with his arms out. It’s enough for me to jab his throat. He tumbles backward.
I’m ready to go for round two. The cloud that was clogging my head is clear, and I’m on the attack. I can feel the adrenaline spike in my blood as my mouth waters. I’m not letting Cobra get away with this. No one pussy jumps me like that and gets away with it! But as I am near mid-air, I hear her voice crying out, “Stop it! Stop it! Don’t do this!”
Sunny and her friend stand in the doorway of the clinic, mouths agape. To my surprise, Cobra doesn’t stop. He barrels into me without caring about her at all. I’m fully on the ground, my fists ready to go, when Killer appears above us. He grabs Cobra by the neck and shouts, “Get the hell off. I’m not having you two start a fucking scene in a public parking lot like this.”
“You piece of shit!” I shout to Cobra. “What, you can’t even fight your own battles? Yeah, that’s it, ain’t it? You’re too much of a little bitch to be a man!” I know I’m inciting shit, but hell if I care. If he is gonna play dirty, damn straight I am too!
But it’s Sunny who has the reigns on me. “Please, Bear! You’re as bad as they are.”
“No, I’m not.” I spin around towards her, wiping the blood from the small cut on my lip off with the back of my palm. “I’m not the one pretending to be that baby’s father!”
“You think I fucking want this?” Cobra snarls. “But that’s my woman now, and you’re out of your damn mind if you think you can walk in here and challenge that.”
“That’s my baby!” I shout. “I didn’t give a fuck who you are, but that’s my kid, and I’ll go to the grave for it.”
“Good. ‘Cause that’s where I’m about to put you.” He starts again, one of those running gags you see in cartoons where their feet never leave the ground but the rest of them look like they are in a sprint. Killer barely holds him back. Cobra snarls as he says, “You may be good with fists, but what about knives?”
“Are you challenging me?” I scoff. No one challenges me—not after I put that Filthy Bastards kid in a coma. No one’s wanted to touch me in the ring since then.
“You’re fancy on your feet, and with those punches, I’ll give you that. But if you want Sunny, you best earn it. Bring a blade, and I’ll gut you like the fish you are.”
“When?” I ask, my interest piqued.
“Bear… please, no. Just walk away. Go back to the Wilderkind. You don’t have to do this.”
I don’t look her way, keeping my eye contact on Cobra’s beady black eyes as I respond, “Like hell I don’t. I’m done with this. For once and for all, I’m putting this guy under—for us.”
“She doesn’t belong to you,” Killer jumps in with that slick calmness of his. “She’s Filthy Bastards property.”
“Not if I win her,” I throw back. “You want a show, I’m gonna give you a show. And if he manages to take me down, you guys can come back knowing you’ve taken down the Wilderkind’s number one fighter. And if I survive and he wins, I’ll leave you and Sunny alone for good. It’s a triple win for you.”
“Bear… please. You can’t do this.”
“Stop!” I shout at her. “I told you what I would do for you back in the room. Now I’m gonna prove it.”
“Ha!” Cobra laughs that nasally laugh of his. “The only thing you’re gonna prove, brother, is how much you can bleed out.”
“Do we have a fight, or not?” I ask Killer directly. He and Vance are the only ones that can approve of a duel like this. No doubt that after this, he would have to send out a formal request to my boss. That’ll be waiting for me back at Wilderkind headquarters, but I couldn’t care less about that. All I need is Killer’s handshake for it to be written in stone.
“Tuesday night,” Killer sighs with what seems to be the weight of the world in his voice. He looks over at Sunny who clutches her stomach with both of her hands. He reaches out his hand for me to take, and like that, I’ve sealed my fate.
***
“What the fuck did you do?” Vance roars as I enter the clubhouse. I should be surprised at how fast word travels. It was only a twenty-minute ride from the clinic back here, but every eye is turned on me like they’re in the know.
“Clear the room!” he shouts to the group of guys playing cards at one of the round folding tables. “Get the hell out of here and get back to work!”
The men slowly stumble out one-by-one. Each gives me the side eye glare. I don’t think any of them really know what to make of me agreeing to knife fight Cobra over a Filthy Bastards chick. I can’t say I blame them or Vance for being pissed.
When the room is empty, Vance kicks one of the metal folding chairs over towards me and orders, “Sit the fuck down.”
I lift my hands defensively in the air as I take a seat under the glaring light of the break room. He paces a few steps, cracking the joints in his hands as he goes. The guy doesn’t have many tells, but I’ve learned that him popping those bones is one of them.
Finally, after a few agonizing minutes of silence, he composes himself enough to ask, “Do you know what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into?”
“Vance, it’s—”
“Shut up!” he cuts me off. He charges towards my chair as he shouts, “You put us all in jeopardy! You fucking lose that fight, and you destroy everything we’ve done to build our street cred up!”
“We’ve done?” I scoff. “More like, I’ve done. If it weren’t for me winning those two fights, we’d still be picking up street scraps from the Filthy Bastards!”
“Don’t get smart with me! No one authorized you to shake on fights, did they?”
“I’m not going to lose,” I reply. The words are as strong as ever. I’m not. I’m not going to die because of Cobra. I know that in my heart.
He doesn’t answer back straight away. Instead, he mulls over his thoughts before replying, “You could.”
“I’m not, Vance. I’ve got too much at stake here. And you saw what I was capable of last time. That’s when I was pissed off over this girl.”
“What’s different? You score her pussy again, and now you need to get her from that dipshit asshole boyfriend of hers?”
“No. It’s not that.”
“Then what?” he snarls. “You tell me why the fuck you need to risk our club over that FB slut!”
It bursts out of me before I can stop it, “She’s pregnant, Vance! She’s pregnant, and it’s mine! For whatever fucking reason he has, Killer and Cobra are pretending like it’s not mine, but it is. The dates line up and everything.”
“What? That’s not—”
“We didn’t use anything…” I admit. “We were fucking drunk and stupid, and now that girl’s carrying my kid… and I… and I want her too.”
Vance stumbles back towards the group of chairs, finding himself sitting across from me. The space between us might as well be miles. I can barely hear him as he
replies, “Shit. Are you sure?”
“I saw it. On the screen.”
He takes a deep, heavy breath before confessing, “I was a father. I guess I am a father. I don’t know what happened to the kid. I lost touch a few years back.”
“What?” I’m shocked. I’ve been Vance’s protege for years now, and I’ve never heard even a single rumor about a kid.
“Yeah. A girl—Caitlin. Her mom was this townie chick from L.A. She wanted to be an actress, so I thought she’d take care of it or at least give it up for adoption. That’s what she told me. So, I left thinking there was nothing there for me to stay for. Come to find out about three years later that she had the kid and kept it. I had someone I knew, a PI, follow her for a while, and then he lost track of her and the girl. All I’ve got are a few photos he managed to swipe from her elementary school.”
Vance fishes out his wallet—an old, wrinkled leather billfold—and pulls out a folded piece of photo paper. He stands and walks towards me, placing it on my lap. A smiling girl about seven or eight years old with a bow in her hair smiles back at me. With her almond eyes and thin, stretched smile, there’s no doubt that Vance’s her father. After a second, he takes it back and very carefully places it in the spot he hid it in.
“I’m leaving everything to the girl—when I’m gone. I can’t be her dad now. It’s too late for me to make up for all this lost time. And hell if she deserves a motherfucker like me.”
“That’s not true—” I start to say.
“Ahh. Leave it, Bear. It’s too late. I’m too old, too angry, too into this life. I’d risk hers if I brought her into it now. But you, you have another chance.”
“What?” I ask in disbelief. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve got a chance to make things right with this girl Sunny and that baby. Bring her into the fold—keep her safe. But that means you’ve gotta change too, Bear.”
“What the hell does that mean?” My voice has risen.
“It means exactly what I said. You’re angry. You’ve been angry since the day I met you in that boxing gym. You can fight the entire world, but you won’t be able to fight your way to being a good dad or partner for that girl of yours.” He peers at me, boring bullet holes through me. I can hear a pin drop as I wait for more, but he leaves it at that.
The truth is that I agree with him. I’ve had this anger in me from way back—when I was a kid and alone and neglected with no sense of home or family. I’ve been angry at just about every damn person in this world—all but Sunny. Even when she rejected me, lied to me, kept me from being with her or the baby, I was never angry at her. I wanted to kill the situation, strangle it until it was dead on the ground and nothing was in the way of us being together. For her and the baby, I need to let that hate and pain go. For her and the baby, I know I can.
“I will,” I finally reply. “I’m going to be that baby’s dad.”
“Then fight. I’ll back you up on this one. Go fight and get the girl. Bring her back to us, and she’ll be welcome.”
He holds out his hand to me, just as Killer did earlier. But there’s no hesitation in taking his. I know that Vance and the Wilderkind have been the closest thing to family I’ve ever had. Until now.
Chapter Thirteen
Sunny
“You dumb little bitch!” Cobra tosses me into his condo—our condo. I am barely able to catch my feet before falling hard against the couch, just missing landing directly on my swollen belly. “Do you know what the hell you just did?”
“What I did?” I ask. “I didn’t do a damn thing, Cobra! He showed up. I didn’t tell him or give him the address to my doctor’s! I have no idea how he found out about me!”
“You’re a filthy fucking liar, you know that!” He shuts the door behind him, pacing back and forth for a few seconds before spitting out, “You wanted to be caught. You wanted this to all go down. I should have known. I should have fucking known that you were some dumb slut who couldn’t keep her legs closed even when she’s a bloated whale.”
“Screw you.” I stand up taller. I’m not about to hear this. “I’ve done everything you asked. I’ve stayed out of your way, played along with this lie, protected your little secret. I even turned my head when…”
Before I can finish my sentence, I hear the creak of a metal bed frame. Instantly, I know who’s here. I turn back to Cobra. “Her. She’s the one you should be pissed at.”
“What the hell are you on about?” He laughs. “What does Kitka have to do with this?”
“Bear told me! She was the one that gave him the address. If she hadn’t, he would have never found me.”
Cobra pauses before screeching, “Kitka! Get the fuck in here.” There’s another creak in the bedframe as she slides herself off. I can hear her footsteps on the tiled floor and the sounds of her opening a drawer to get dressed. I wonder if Cobra left her mid-screwing or something. Did she really think nothing was going to happen and that he would just come back and finish her off? That is if he could even get the job done.
That thought gave me pause. Why was she here? If her endgame was not Cobra, but Killer, then why was she still hovering around him? From my count, she has met up with him at least twice a week since we came out as a couple. She hasn’t even hidden it from anyone. The boys, of course, think Cobra’s just one lucky son-of-a-bitch who has mastered getting it on the side, but Killer made it clear to Kitka to let Cobra go. What was she playing at?
She walks out of the room, his flannel shirt partially buttoned around her chest and waist. Of course, no pants. What did I expect here? I see a glimmer of a smile as she catches my eye. It’s a smug, knowing one. If she thinks I’m about to protect her…
“Did you tell that Wilderkind boy where to find Sunny at?” Cobra accosts her.
Her jaw tenses slightly, but then her face goes back to that icy glare that’s default for her. “No. I have no idea what you’re talking about. What Wilderkind boy?”
“What the hell, Kitty Kat!” I yell, still holding on to the couch. “Bear told me! He told me you gave him the address to the clinic!”
She practically grins as she repeats, “I have no idea what you’re talking about… Cobra?”
“What do you have to say for your sorry self now, Sunny?” Cobra storms. “You think this is some fucking game to play with people? I sensed the moment you walked through the door that you were going to be more trouble than it’s worth.”
“She’s the one.” I point my finger square at Kitka’s cruel face. “The one that did this to you. If you want to blame someone, blame her.”
“Stop LYING!” he roars as he takes one giant step towards me. I should cower. I know I should cower, but I can’t force myself to be scared of him. Something about seeing Bear get the crap kicked out of him today and then have his entire life challenged makes me feel as if I could do the same—be fearless in the face of anything.
Cobra’s mere inches away. His body towers over me as his hips begin to press into my stomach. I have to lean slightly over the side of the couch to avoid his head touching mine.
“You need to get one fucking thing straight, Sunny. I don’t care why Killer is protecting you, but I will make sure you follow my commands from now on. You’re not going anywhere. You hear me? You’re under my watch from now on.”
The thought of being locked away in Cobra’s lair of a home against my will sends shivers down my back. Every night that I lay low here is like torture. I’ve spent most nights in bed listening to the other wall, waiting for him to have one wrong night or drink too many drinks and pull something on me. Now I’m only becoming more and more vulnerable. Who knows what Cobra is capable of behind closed doors, without the protection of Bear or Killer to hold him back.
“I’m not —I won’t.” My words stumble, tripping over themselves in fear and anger. “I’m not going to do this anymore… I’m going to go back to my place. You can’t stop me.”
“What did you say?” he asks under his breath, his
head cocking to the side.
“You. Can’t. Stop. Me.” I enunciate every single syllable of those words. I want Cobra to make no mistake that I meant it. I’m not playing here. I am done with him and this charade. “This deal between us—it’s off. I’ll keep your secret, but there’s no way in fucking hell that I’m going to pretend that you—”
A hand rips across my face. White-hot and searing. I hear a tiny ringing in my ear. I hold tight to the spot where he struck me, the pressure of my hand cool against it. My mind goes blank, and my breathing stops. I check myself for blood, but he didn’t do any damage more than that slap. I turn back to him, ready for number two. This time, my hands reach around my stomach. If he’s low enough to hit a woman, a defenseless woman who stands up to him, I can’t imagine what he would do to the life inside of me.
