Battle Hearts

by Nina Levine

  I wiggle in his arms so I can face him. The torment in his eyes slays me. Even the strongest men have demons that bring them to their knees. “You need to make plans for the nursery?”

  “I need to stop standing still and that’s what this feels like. Fuck, it feels like we’ve been standing still for years.”

  My breathing slows. I don’t know what he’s saying here, but I’m fairly sure this isn’t just about baby furniture. “What do you mean?”

  “Seven years of waiting for the next part of our lives is a long fucking time.”

  “But we’re not waiting. We’re doing stuff to make it happen.”

  “Mostly we’re waiting. And I’m okay with that, because I want this baby as much as you do, but we’re pregnant now and I want to prepare for our child.”

  I know Winter struggles with IVF, with the fact he can’t fix the problem we have. My man’s strength is that he solves problems; this journey has frustrated that part of him. He does need this, and so I need to figure out a way to give it to him because he gives me the world even when it must be the hardest thing for him to do.

  Swallowing down my fear, I nod. “Okay, let’s go look at baby furniture.”

  There are a lot of things I’ve wanted over the last seven years. I’ve wanted to give up. I’ve wanted to quit the needles, the pills, the prodding, the poking, the blood tests, the procedures. I’ve wanted to cry myself to sleep more times than I can count. But the one thing I’ve never wanted was to do any of this without Winter by my side.

  He makes my world better just by being in it.

  He lifts me up when the only way I can see is down.

  He has my back at all times, no questions asked.

  After everything we’ve been through and everything I’ve not been able to give him, he still chooses me.

  I’ll find it within myself to give him what he needs.

  21

  Winter

  * * *

  Birdie: We need to change the chemicals we use in the garden.

  Me: Why?

  Birdie: They contain endocrine disrupting chemicals.

  * * *

  Jesus, I thought we were done with clearing the chemicals from our house and the clubhouse that she found to be harmful to fertility. The last rampage she went on caused a huge fight; I don’t want a repeat of that.

  * * *

  Birdie: I’ll make a list. We can do this on the weekend after we go to IKEA.

  Me: Ok.

  Birdie: What time will you and Max be home tonight? I wanna have dinner ready.

  Me: His flight gets in at 3:30pm.

  Birdie: Love you. Have a good day, baby xx

  * * *

  “We’ve got a problem with Striker. One that may cause us some grief with Silver Hell.” Ransom says, drawing my attention back to what we’re doing: waiting for Javier to show with our coke. We arrived ten minutes early, so he should be here any minute.

  “What kind of problem?” Striker is the only club member to repeatedly give me headaches. Fuck knows what he’s done now.

  “He fucked the sister of one of their members.”

  “Fuck. I wish to Christ he’d learn to keep his dick in his pants.”

  “You and me both. The only reason I know about this is because their VP pulled me aside last night when I was out, and let me know they’re not happy about it.”

  “I’ll talk to Striker and make him fix this.”

  Javier’s truck pulls into the old warehouse we use to receive our deliveries. His Bentley pulls in after, and a minute later, he exits it and walks our way. Removing his dark glasses, he says, “Winter. Ransom.”

  His guys jump out of the truck and we inspect the coke. Once we’re finished, Javier pulls me aside. “King called me today.” His eyes darken with distaste. “He wants to negotiate a new price.”

  Fuck, King could have given me a fucking head’s up on this. “You have a problem with this?”

  “I have a problem with King. I thought you and I had an agreement that I’d only ever deal with you.”

  “I wasn’t aware King planned on stepping in. I’ll handle this.”

  “You do that, my friend, because if I hear from King again, things aren’t going to go well for Storm. Also, I heard whisperings that Zenith are making plans again. Something you might want to keep an eye on.”

  With that, he slips his glasses back on and leaves Ransom and me.

  “Trouble?” Ransom asks as we watch Javier leave.

  “You could say that.” I hope to fuck I can fix it, because Storm will be screwed if I can’t. “He also told me Zenith might become a problem again.” After we thought we wiped them out seven years ago, they started back up in Adelaide. Since they left town and kept out of our shit, and since we wanted to lay low where the feds were concerned, we’ve left them alone. I’ve made sure we’re ready if they ever show up here again, though.

  “I’ll get Hunt to do some digging.” He checks his phone as a text comes through and then glances back at me. “You heading back to the clubhouse now?”

  “I’m going to find Striker and have a word, and then I’m taking off for the day. Get Hunt to make Zenith his priority. I want to know exactly what those assholes are up to.”

  “Will do,” he says before leaving me.

  I pull out my phone and bring up King’s number.

  “You finished with Torres?” he says.

  “Yeah and I would have appreciated some notice that you were planning negotiations with him. He’s pissed that you reached out, King.”

  “I don’t give a fuck that he’s pissed. It’s long past time to renegotiate price.”

  “Yeah, but he won’t do that with you and you know that. And quite fucking honestly, you should have brought this up with me yesterday so I could start the negotiations with him today.”

  “I run this fucking operation, Winter; I don’t need to bring anything up with you before I decide to do it.”

  “Yeah, you do run it, but who the fuck runs the day-to-day of it? I’ll fucking tell you who: me. And I’ll also tell you that if you keep this shit up, Torres is walking away. Back the fuck down, King, and let me get this done.”

  “You wanna try that again, brother?”

  “No I don’t wanna fucking try that again.” Fuck. “I want you to listen for one goddam time in your life because this will be make or break for Storm. We’ve got a good business here; you continue down this path and you’ll shoot it all to shit.”

  “This is the path we’re going down so I suggest you either get the fuck on board or step the fuck out of my way.”

  The line goes dead.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  I stretch my neck and force out some breaths. King and I have had some heated discussions over the years, but this has reached a new level. He’s being fucking stubborn. And foolish. And I’m going to have to go up against him again because someone has to make him see sense. I’ve worked too damn hard on our business to let him fuck it up.

  My phone rings and I answer it when I see Ransom’s name.

  “What’s up?”

  “Just letting you know that Striker’s at his old lady’s place.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  Thirty minutes later, Melody opens her front door to me, looking pissed. “Fuck, Winter, I was sleeping. I’m on night shift this week.”

  I have very little time for this woman. She’s as much a pain in my ass as Striker is. And on top of that, she’s rude to Birdie every time they interact. “I need to speak to Striker.”

  The hatred burning in her eyes is fierce when she says, “Yeah, fuck you, too, asshole. You guys are all the same. Rude as fuck.”

  Striker appears behind her, looking less than impressed. “Shut the fuck up, Melody, and go back to bed.”

  It’s no wonder she’s a bitter, hard woman; putting up with his shit would make me bitter too.

  They engage in an argument I tune out to, until finally she leaves and he steps o
utside with me. “What’s going on? You told me you didn’t need me this afternoon.”

  “I don’t,” I say. “But something’s come to my attention that you need to fix.”

  He folds his arms. “What?”

  “You fucked the sister of a Silver Hell member.”

  Understanding washes over his face, and instead of looking like he knows he fucked up, he settles in for a fight. “So?”

  “So?” It’s a bark; I’ve had enough of Striker’s bullshit and more than enough of his fucking attitude.

  He shrugs. “Yeah, so I fucked her; what’s the big fucking deal?”

  I grip his shirt and yank him to me. “The big fucking deal is that I’m sick of your shit and I’m sick of you putting the club at risk. Silver Hell aren’t happy with what you’ve done, and since I don’t know what the fuck you’ve actually done besides getting your dick out when you shouldn’t have, you’re gonna tell me everything right now so we can make a plan to fix this.” I shove him away from me, trying like fuck not to take to him with my fists.

  His scowl, though, only stirs my desire to punch him. “We were fooling around for a couple of months. And now we’re finished.”

  “Who ended it?”

  “Me. She was getting clingy.”

  “So she’s not happy you ended things?”

  He nods. “She’s been blowing up my phone. Melody’s pissed, so I went round Letitia’s place last night and told her to leave me the fuck alone.”

  How the hell Melody stays with him after all the women on the side he’s been through is fucking beyond me. “I take it Letitia didn’t welcome that visit?”

  “She fucking started punching me.”

  “Fuck, if you tell me you put your hands on her in any way, I swear to Christ I’ll put my fucking hands on you.”

  He scowls again. “I might be a prick, Winter, but I don’t fucking hit women.”

  “Keep it that fucking way.”

  “I don’t know how you think I’m gonna fix this; she just needs time to calm down.”

  “You’re going to stay the fuck away from her. You will not call her; you will not answer her calls; you will not see her. Am I understood?”

  “Trust me when I tell you those are all things high on my list of priorities.”

  “Good. If I find out you’ve done any of them, you won’t like the consequences.”

  He shoots me one last round of daggers before I slide my sunglasses back on and leave. I might want to punch the asshole, but that’ll only lead to bullshit between us I don’t need at the moment. We already have enough of it after years of this kind of shit.

  I check my watch; I’ve got just under half an hour till Max’s flight gets in. Hopefully traffic won’t be a bitch because I’m forty minutes from the airport and I have a call I still have to make.

  The Silver Hell president picks up on the third ring. “Winter. It’s been awhile.”

  Bull and I have a hard relationship. His club didn’t appreciate Storm’s arrival in Melbourne eight years ago, but since then, he and I have come to an understanding. We leave each other alone as much as possible and don’t get into each other’s shit.

  “I heard you’re not happy with one of my guys. That true?”

  “It is.”

  “I’ve just had a word with him; he won’t cause any further problems.”

  “That’d be okay if he hadn’t knocked her up and then refused to take responsibility.”

  Jesus.

  “I wasn’t aware of that.”

  “Well you are now. You sort that out and I’ll make sure my guy backs down.”

  “Will do.”

  We end the call and I stalk back to the house, banging hard on the front door while bellowing, “Striker! Get your ass out here!”

  The door is ripped open and Striker glares at me. “What now?”

  My fist connects with his cheek hard enough to send him to the floor. “She’s fucking pregnant. That’s fucking what.”

  “You fucking asshole!” Melody screeches, lunging for Striker. “You never told me she was pregnant!”

  Melody goes crazy with her fists, punching and slapping him while spewing her hurt all over the place. I pull her off him, copping a punch for my efforts. “Let me go!” she screams.

  Wrapping my arms around her to stop her from moving, I bark, “Stop! I need a few minutes with him and then he’s all yours.”

  She struggles against me for another minute before finally agreeing to do as I say. As she steps back from me, she glares at Striker and spits out, “I fucking hate you! I’m fucking done!”

  Striker opens his mouth to respond, but I clock him again. He stumbles back, his features dark and dirty with me. “Is this kid yours?” The way he looks at me tells me everything I need to know. “You will go to her and accept responsibility, and if you don’t, I will strip your club membership,” I thunder.

  That gets his attention and his eyes darken even more.

  When he doesn’t answer me, I roar, “Am I fucking understood?”

  His lips flatten before he says, “Yeah, you’re fucking understood, but this is bullshit. You don’t run my fucking personal life.”

  “I fucking do when it threatens the club.” I take a couple of steps away from him so I don’t beat the absolute fuck out of him. Jabbing my finger at him, I order, “You do this now and you report back to me as soon as it’s done.”

  I stalk out of his house back to my ute and leave as fast as I can. My body is filled with fury and if I spend another second in Striker’s presence, I’m likely to do something I’ll regret. I haven’t built this club up to what it is today for him to tear it the fuck down, but I also haven’t built it up to tear shit down myself by succumbing to my own darkness.

  “What’s going on with you?” Max asks on the way home after I pick him up. “You’re tenser than you usually are.”

  I glance at him. We catch up a few times a year, either when he visits Melbourne or when Birdie and I visit him in Brisbane. He’s right; I am tenser than usual, and as much as I’ve tried to shake it off so it doesn’t interfere with his visit, I’ve failed. “I’ve got some headaches I’m trying to figure out at the moment.”

  “Club stuff or baby stuff?”

  “Both.” There are no secrets between my brother and me. He’s the one person I’ve leaned on throughout the last seven years. I may not share the details of club business, but he knows the pressure I’m under. And he sure as fuck knows the battles I’ve faced with Birdie. At times, he’s been the glue that’s helped keep us together.

  “How’s Birdie? I haven’t spoken with her for a week or so.”

  I scrub a hand over my face and exhale. “I knew this cycle was going to be hard on her, but it’s a new level of hard. She’s obsessing over things far worse than she usually does.”

  Max whistles. “That’s saying something; I didn’t think it possible for her to obsess any more than she already did.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know how to help her. I’ve reached the end of the line. At this point, I’m just going along with shit to keep the peace.”

  “Fuck, brother, that’s gotta be hard.”

  “It’s harder watching her break.” I look at him. “I won’t do this again. I can’t do this again. I’ve watched the woman I love lose herself and I refuse to let her hand another piece of her soul over to this. I need to save her.”

  “You also need to save yourself,” he says softly, and fuck if it isn’t one of the truest things he’s ever said.

  “I need to save us.”

  We turn silent for a while before I ask, “How’s shit for you?”

  “Georgia and I are talking marriage.”

  I grin, happier for him than he’ll ever know. He’s been with Georgia for three years and I’ve waited for this moment. “It’s about fucking time. When are you proposing?”

  “I’ll buy the ring this week while I’m here and then I’m taking her to Hawaii in a couple of weeks. I’ll propose t
here.”

  “The boys will be happy.” His sons love Georgia as much as he does.

  “Yeah, they’re coming to Hawaii with us. They know I’m proposing. I ran it by them first, just to get a feel for their thoughts. To say they were excited is an understatement.”

  “This is good fucking news. I’m happy for you.”

  He smiles. “Thanks, Matt.” The upbeat happiness I heard in his voice when he told me he was proposing is now gone, replaced with some heaviness. I know where that’s coming from; Max hates watching Birdie and me struggle. He’s walked this journey with us every step of the way and felt every bit of our pain. He might hate that we still don’t have a child, but I hate that this journey has impacted him, too. Infertility is a bitch that has taken not only from Birdie and me, but also from those we love.

  22

  Birdie

  * * *

  “We’re going to go through the garden shed this weekend and get rid of the chemicals in there,” I say to Lily over the phone as I stir the spaghetti I’m cooking for dinner. It’s Max’s favourite.

  “How does Winter feel about this? Isn’t he hard-core about weeds and shit? Like, what will he use instead?”

  “Oh, I’ve got a list for him to choose from. He’s good. We’ll pick the stuff up after we go to IKEA on Sunday.”

  “God, I wish King was as easy about doing the stuff I want him to do. He argued with me this morning when I suggested we should add shelves to our wardrobe. He told me if I’d stop buying clothes, I wouldn’t need the shelves. Like, just build them already and stop arguing with me when we both know he’ll eventually just do what I ask. Why do men have to be so damn stubborn about admitting we’re right?”

  “Right? Also, why do they have to want a say in things around the house that we all know they don’t even give a fuck about? I set up my meditation cushion and stuff in our walk-in robe because we have so much space in there and Winter is barely in there, but the minute it was set up, he was all over me about it.”