by Sam Crescent
No one had cared about her or what she did with her life, not until she became pregnant, and all of a sudden, people were all about making it their business when they didn’t have a right to.
Shaking off the feeling, she walked into the library.
It was quiet, and she found she loved it a hell of a lot more since getting pregnant. She put her books down on the table and opened them all up. She didn’t need to read any of the books.
She could have gone home and studied there, but she didn’t want to be alone in Preacher’s house. She also didn’t want to go home. There was something off about her mother. They’d never be close, which was why she found it hard to believe the kindness her mother was showing her now. It wasn’t real, and Robin kept on remembering that.
Staring at her biology book, she went through all the relevant stages of reproduction, moving onto to the reaction of enzymes, and then she changed the book because she didn’t want to stare at another picture of a slice open of the human body showing a vagina or penis.
Next was math, and her brain just wouldn’t work.
There were so many numbers, and it was all a jumbled-up mess of nonsense. Rubbing at her temple, she felt a little sick, and she was hungry.
She jumped as someone sat down beside her.
Looking up, she felt even more sick when she saw O’Klaren sitting close to her.
She lifted her head up and looked around.
No one was paying them any attention.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“You’re here all alone. I’ve got to say I’m a little shocked. You’ve usually got your bodyguard, your dad, or Preacher.”
She sat back, hoping he didn’t see how nervous she was. She’d noticed him lingering around the high school, but he never approached.
“So you’re turning into a stalker. Isn’t there a law against that kind of thing?”
“There’s also a law about a pregnant minor.”
“I didn’t report anything. You can’t do anything unless I do, and I’m not going to.”
“You see, I understand that you want to believe this is Bishop’s baby, and you know what, maybe my contact was wrong. You and Bishop are always together, but he’s not here now. In fact, I know he’s probably fucking his way through a bunch of club women.”
“For a cop you really do have bad language.”
“Well, I have to dumb down for criminals to hear what I’m saying. I can’t go around using big words.”
She didn’t say anything, staring at him, waiting for his threats to disappear.
“You don’t have to protect him, you know. I can help you.”
“I’m not protecting anyone.”
“Did you know how much of a bad liar you are?” He suddenly reached over and grabbed her arm. She let out a gasp but didn’t want to draw any attention to their table.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Let’s get one thing straight right now, his little club, it’s going down. By the time I’m through with it, there isn’t going to be anything left. You got it? If you don’t help me, I will make sure, you and your baby go down with it, or you can help me, and I will protect you.”
“Get your hands off her,” Preacher said.
Robin had never been so grateful to hear his voice. With him here, O’Klaren wouldn’t hurt her.
He let her go, and she pulled away, holding her arm close to her chest, not wanting to get too close to him.
“It was nice of you to show up,” O’Klaren said.
“I’m starting to think this is harassment. You keep throwing big words out there like minor and other such legal jargon. I wonder if you even understand it yourself. I get the big words, bud, but do you know what else I’m seeing?” Preacher stepped up close, and O’Klaren got to his feet.
“What’s that?”
“I’m seeing a bad cop who is going to make a mistake. Like, hit his wife in the wrong place, or hurt his son just too much that it can’t be explained away.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Preacher laughed. “Maybe not, but I can see with my own two eyes, and what I see is a cowardly cop who gets his shit and giggles from beating on a poor, defenseless woman and his kids. Pictures lie, and I see you, O’Klaren. You keep your hands off my family or you may take on a fight that won’t end well.”
“Good talk,” O’Klaren said.
He didn’t stick around, and the moment he was gone, she collapsed.
“How did you know?” Robin asked.
“I have eyes and ears everywhere. Are you done studying?”
“Yes, I really am.”
She gathered her books up, thankful when he helped.
Preacher took the bag from her and hiked it up on his shoulder, taking hold of her hand before walking out of the library.
“Who called you?”
“I’m not going to give that away. Just know that wherever you go, I’ve got someone there to protect you. Who will call me if I need them to.” He opened the passenger door of his truck and helped her inside.
She secured the seatbelt as Preacher got into the other side, putting her bag on the seat between them.
“Why aren’t you at the party?” Robin asked. “Bishop was really excited about it.”
“The boys needed to let off steam. With O’Klaren breathing down our necks, there’s no other way for them. They’ve got everything they need to have a good night. Booze, women, and gambling.” He fired up the engine and took off back to his home.
“And you don’t need that.”
“I never need to blow off steam, and besides, you needed me.”
She smiled. “Yeah, I did. You seem to know exactly when I do as well. It’s kind of surreal for you to always turn up when I do.”
He glanced over at her but didn’t say anything. Her stomach chose that moment to grumble.
“You didn’t eat anything?” he asked.
“I went straight to the library. I didn’t really think about food.”
“I’ll make something while you wash up when we get home.”
“I’d like that. What do you have in mind to cook?”
“You’ll see.”
She smiled, happy.
“How’s your arm?”
“It’s fine. He didn’t do anything to it. Just held it. There might be a couple of bruises, but that’s about it. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“He shouldn’t have touched you. He crossed the line.”
“It’s fine. I handled it. I think I did.”
“I turned up, that’s what handled it.”
She chuckled. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You can’t control when he’s going to turn up.” Preacher turned on the radio, and music filled the car.
She leaned back, resting her head, finally relaxing. “We go to see Randall in a couple of weeks.”
“I know. I’ve got the date.”
“I don’t know if Bishop will be there. He said he would, but he wasn’t there for the first one and you know, he said he would.”
“I will be there.”
“Even if Bishop is?”
“Yes. It’s my kid, and I’m going to be part of his life as much as possible.”
“You don’t even know if there’s a boy or girl in here.”
“We’ll have to wait and see. Do you care what it is?”
“No, I don’t. I only want our baby to be healthy.”
“Does that feel weird?” he asked.
“What?”
“Calling it ‘our baby’?”
“A little bit. I can’t get into the habit of it though. It’s supposed to be Bishop’s baby.”
“I know.”
She didn’t like how awkward it had become. “Does it bother you?”
Preacher didn’t answer.
“We didn’t have to, you know, get married. This isn’t his baby.”
“You and Bishop were always supposed to be together.�
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“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“I don’t know what I believe. I guess I always figured being married would feel different. I wear the gold band, and I have your name, but things with Bishop and me, they’re not normal. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s why I wanted him to go to this party. He needed some time alone.” And she needed to figure a few things out for herself.
“You do know he’s not alone, don’t you?”
“I know.”
“Do you care?”
“Bishop gets what he needs, and I’m not going to hold him back from that.”
They pulled up outside of their house.
“You didn’t answer the question.”
She had no intention of answering.
Preacher grabbed her bag, and once they were inside, he sent her to clean up while he took care of the cooking. She wasn’t going to argue with his instruction. She was hungry, starving even.
Rushing to her room, she took a quick shower, changing into a pair of comfy pajamas. Her clothes were getting way too tight, courtesy of the little baby bump.
Before she made her way downstairs, she lifted up her shirt and stared at the bump. To some, it could just like she’d put on more weight.
“You’re in there, aren’t you? I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I hope you’re feeling really happy and safe.” She rubbed her stomach. “You’re going to make me so big. I hope I’m a good mother to you. I’d hate to be like mine.” She dropped her shirt and walked downstairs to where Preacher was cooking up a storm. The scents of onion and garlic were heavy in the air.
“Everything smells amazing,” she said.
“Good, they should. I’ve set the table. Have a seat. I’ll be done soon.”
“Already? It doesn’t take you long to cook.”
“It never does, not with the recipes I have.” He flicked his wrist a couple more times, and she chuckled, feeling happier than she had in a while.
Even though she and Bishop weren’t back to normal, they were close, and it was better than nothing.
The awkwardness between her and Preacher had also dissipated. They weren’t close, but neither of them was filling up the silence. They were getting along as well as two people could.
Preacher joined her at the table carrying two plates. He left, only to return with a bowl. “The leftovers. If we don’t eat them, I can heat them up for us tomorrow, or something.”
She took a bite of the meatballs with pasta. They were so good, and she closed her eyes, basking in the taste. They were amazing. She moaned. “They’re so good. How did you even learn to cook? Didn’t you always have women and men willing to do whatever you wanted them to?”
He laughed. “I had people helping me out when I needed it, but there’s a lot I can do for myself. I don’t always need the added help. I like to cook. It’s easy. Nothing goes wrong.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t believe you. I’ve tried to cook. I can do a couple of things, but I tend to burn things. Like baked beans, did you know they can stick to the bottom of the pan and turn black? Disgusting.”
“You have to have patience. All good things in life take patience.”
“Now I find it hard to believe you have the patience to deal with all of that?” she asked. “You’re not a very patient person.”
“You’re right. I’m not, but cooking gives me something at the end, so it’s worth the time and effort. If I wasn’t going to get anything out of it, I wouldn’t bother. With food, if you don’t take the time, you could poison yourself, make yourself ill, or have a really disappointing meal. If I take my time, nurture it, help it develop, then I’m rewarded at the end. A good meal and time well spent.”
“Are you talking about the food or your club?”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you enjoy it.”
She finished her food in quick time. Preacher wouldn’t let her wash the dishes though. He took care of the dishes, and she went into the sitting room, flicking through the television channels.
Preacher joined her after having a shower. He wore a pair of sweats and no shirt. All of his ink was on display. He sat at the other end of the sofa.
“You can put one of your lame-ass romantic comedies on if you want. I don’t mind.”
“Don’t you have to be at the club?”
“They can party without me. Besides, I’m not going to leave you alone. Put what you want to on, just don’t tell anyone I watched it.”
“Okay, fine.”
She got to her feet, picking out one of the DVDs.
“If I am going to be watching something like this, are you going to tell me why you love them so much?”
As the DVD loaded, she glanced over at him. With him without a shirt it was hard to concentrate. She hadn’t seen him naked since that morning, and now she was a little unsure of herself.
“I don’t know. I guess I like the romance. I’m not a hopeless romantic, but I like the idea of a happy ending. I can’t be done with movies where it’s a sad ending or someone dies. I don’t like that, but in most cases, it’s love. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before.”
“You’re not in love with Bishop?”
“I love him, but I don’t know. The power of being in love, I don’t think I’ve ever felt that. Maybe at one time I’d have felt that way with Bishop, but I guess all the other women and just us in general, it’s not really worked out, you know.”
“Do you want to fall in love?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know if there’s such a thing as being in love, or love at first sight. Look at my parents. They hate each other. I’ve seen what being in love does and it’s not pretty, and one thing I can safely say, it doesn’t last.”
“You’re too young to be this cynical.”
“It’s not cynical. I’m surprised you don’t agree with me. Did you love the woman who gave birth to Bishop?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Maybe love is only supposed to be enjoyed by a few. You hinted at O’Klaren beating his wife. Do you know for certain?”
“I don’t know anything for certain, just guesses.”
“If he beats his wife, why does she stay with him? Is it fear? Love? That kind of love I want nothing to be with.” She stared down at her lap, seeing the gold band and twirling it around her finger. “Sometimes when I’m with Bishop, I can’t help but feel guilty.”
“Why?”
“Because he married me and I don’t know if I can ever give him what he wants. I know what he needs from me, but I’m not sure if I’m the right person for him. He deserves someone who isn’t so unsure of everything.”
“You don’t need to feel guilty. Bishop loves being married to you.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. Besides, if we’re talking about the same kid, do you really think he does something he doesn’t want to without a fight? If he really didn’t want to marry you, he’d have made it very plain for me. Stop worrying so much about him. He’s having a good time, and that is all that matters.”
****
Later that night, he put Robin to bed. He’d carried her upstairs as she fell asleep watching another movie.
She’d been on the heavier side, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It felt good to carry her, to hold her close.
Pushing those feelings aside, he waited outside the bar. O’Klaren thought he had the upper hand, but he wasn’t even close to being in the same league as him.
He had many people in places that knew when to call him. There was no way he’d let O’Klaren fuck with him too much, just enough for the bastard to think he’d gotten to him.
He’d gotten rich and stayed out of jail for being one step ahead of the game. Money made the world go ’round, and it helped to have a lot of it. People were loyal through fear and money.
It’s why he was never lenient, and he never showed mercy, not to anyone. The moment you
did, people thought you were a pushover and expected more out of you, and he was no pushover, and he’d fuck over anyone who tried to take him on.
Leaning against O’Klaren’s car, he waited.
Most of the customers had gone for the night, leaving O’Klaren, who was turning out to be an asshole who used fear to keep people in place. In another lifetime, he may have had respect for him, but there was no way he’d ever agree to any kind of deal with him. O’Klaren was the kind of guy to sell out anyone to make himself look good.
O’Klaren stepped out of the bar with a woman close to him. Preacher watched, amused as the guy felt her up. He was all hands, and even from the short distance he saw the woman wasn’t into it.
Preacher let out a whistle, giving the woman a break for a change.
O’Klaren turned toward him. “Hold on, baby girl. I’ve just got to take care of this piece of trash and then your ass is mine.”
All the information he had on this cop was useless. Each piece of paper and picture was a fake, a lie, something to make people look the other way, but Preacher knew there was more to him.
“Are you looking to get your ass arrested?” O’Klaren asked. “Confess all of your sins and go to lockup where you belong.”
“It’s interesting how you think I’m the one that deserves to be locked up.”
“You’re the one who needs to be put away.”
Preacher smiled. “It’s funny, for all the bad shit I’ve done, and this is not on the record, I’ve never once beaten my son to a bloody pulp and then ordered him to be butt fucked by a gang of addicts to get their next fix.”
O’Klaren lost all color in his face as Preacher let go of just some of the information he had on this piece of shit.
“Don’t get me wrong, Bishop, he’s not a great kid. He’s caused me a great deal of problem. Probably makes your older boy look like a saint. I don’t know what that makes you. For me, I think it makes you worse than fucking scum. My boy pisses me off. I can’t fucking stand him, and I wonder why I didn’t kill him when he was first born, but you see, he’s still my boy. He’s still my flesh and blood, and if anyone so much as lays a finger on him, they have to come through me. While you will let anyone hurt your boy to save face.”