by Forgy, M. N.
“Fuck!” Jerking myself around, I head into the kitchen. I can do this. It’s a woman, how complicated can it get?
I open the fridge and I find shit to make sandwiches, some cut fruit, soup, and beverages. I scratch my chin. Someone should make a grocery run.
Pulling my phone back out, I dial Jillian.
“Yes?” she laughs into the phone.
“What would you want to eat if you were Simone?”
“The girls and I will be there in fifteen.” The phone goes dead, and I hang my head.
Sitting on the couch, grabbing the remote, I flip through the channels. Nothing looks good. Turning the TV off, I fetch my laptop to catch up on some business. Just as I’m about to finish a project, a delicate knock pounds at the door.
Right on time, Raven, Alessandra, and Jillian show up stowing grocery bags.
“Hey, Mac Daddy!” Alessandra winks, placing shit on the counter. Her dark hair pulled into a yellow bandanna. I see what Felix likes in her, she’s sexy and sassy.
“She in that room?” Raven, Machete’s little demon points to Simone’s door.
“Yeah,” I nod, looking into the bags.
“Wait, ladies, I think Mac wants to swoon her over, so let’s just go in there and say our condolences, and let him take over,” Jillian takes charge, the ladies nodding in agreement.
“What, no I don’t. You’re just making shit up now.” I point at her. I do want to be the one to help her feel better, but I’m not the right person for the job.
Alessandra smiles, and they all head into Simone’s room, noticing the door not closed all the way. They sit on the bed, Alessandra rubbing Simone’s back as Raven stands and Jillian sits on the edge.
“Hey girl, rough times isn’t it?” Jillian asks. Simone starts crying harder, and the girls all hug her. I look down, feeling like a creep for watching but I don’t know what she needs. Looks like she just needs someone to be there for her. I suck at being there for anyone, caring is out of my league. I never had anyone for me besides a tough ol’ biker, Zeek’s father.
Closing the door, I unpack what the girls brought letting them do their thing. Waffles, ice cream, chips, pickles, and just a bunch of junk food.
Women are really fucking complicated, come to think of it, my brothers are nuts for settling down.
I grab what I know from the groceries… Sandwiches and ice cream.
Minutes later the women sashay out of the room, stopping at the counter.
“Just… be you,” Jillian advises. Glancing at her, I don’t respond. What the hell does that mean?
“No, then he’d be nose deep in his laptop he wouldn’t even know she’s in the room.” Alessandra laughs at my expense.
I draw in a breath, trying to calm myself.
“You done?” Narrowing a brow at Alessandra, she smiles, proud of herself.
“Let’s go ladies. Mac, call me if you need anything else- k?”
Silently I nod.
“Go get ‘er, tiger,” Raven raises her hand her black nails acting out like she’s going to claw me to shreds before walking away, the rest of the girls following.
“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath. Fucking chicks, man.
I make Simone a turkey sandwich, and even cut it in little fucking triangles for her. Grab the whole container of cookies and cream ice cream, with a spoon and head to her room.
“Simone, I got some food. Ya want some?”
She doesn’t answer. What the hell, she’ll talk to the women but not me? I have to work harder for her attention, what kind of shit is that?
“Come on, you gotta eat… Think of the baby.” My brows furrow in as I try and listen for any sign of life in the other room. “I’m going to come in and shove this food down your throat if you don’t eat now!” My patience gone.
“I’m not hungry!” she snaps, and relief floods my shoulders she’s finally talking to me. She’s alive and still fucking mouthy.
“Then fucking starve!” I wince at my sudden outburst, I’m being too much myself.
Sighing, I push the door open a little. “How is little man going to fight off the chicks if you’re starving him?” I try one last time, my tone softer than before.
“I don’t know the gender.” Her voice louder than before.
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t had an ultrasound.”
Wait a second, she hasn’t had one at all or recently?
“Aren’t you supposed to get a few of those to make sure the alien baby is growing right and all?”
Fuck, why did Zeek make me do this? I know fuck all about pregnant women. When I fuck, I make sure to wrap my cock up extra tight to avoid this kind of shit.
She doesn’t answer, and my nerves have about had it. It’s apparent Simone and I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing here.
“Do you even have any baby shit, or a… birth itinerary?” I heard the woman on that show talking about it is the only reason I know anything about it.
“You mean birth plan?” The sadness in her voice lifts a little at my lack of maternal knowledge.
“Sure.” What the fuck ever. “Why don’t you get up and we can talk or eat? Face to face.”
She shifts in the blankets but doesn’t get up.
“I just… I need some time, Mac.” Her voice sad again. It crosses my mind to go inside and curl up behind her, hold her but it doesn’t quite feel right either. Instead, I set the food on the end table next to her. My feet not wanting to move, encouraging me to climb up next to her. Her hand dangles off the bed, the only thing exposed from the blankets smothering her.
Running the tips of my fingers over her wrist she clasps my hand, holding it tight.
“Hey, Mac?”
“What?” I growl.
“What is your real name?”
My shoulders tense, my chest clenching with the question. It seems like a legit question for anyone to ask, but it’s not for me. My real name is personal, and something only a few people know. Mac is strong and takes no shit, Rhett was someone who got bullied as a kid and hated his family. The mere mention of my real name makes me feel uncomfortable and like a fucking pussy. I’d like to see one of those asswipe kids from the playground now, I’d make them piss their fucking pants and fuck their mother. Swirling my finger on her soft skin, I break the contact.
I’m not ready to go down this road with Pocahontas. Let’s keep the focus on her and off me. I’ll talk to Zeek about getting a doc up here with a fucking ultrasound machine and get her some answers on the baby.
And we also need to figure out what the fuck the plan is when this child decides to grace us with its presence because Simone looks like she’s about to pop and I don’t know shit about what the hell we’re doing.
* * *
I left a prospect at the door of the suite with strict instructions not to go inside unless he calls me first for permission. Any man inside the hotel room without me, alone with Simone doesn’t sit well with me for some reason. Sitting at the bar of the club, beer in my hand, I wait for Zeek’s response to my request.
“So, you want to get an ultrasound?” His brows furrow, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows his whiskey.
“Don’t you think it’s a good idea? I mean, what if there’s a problem with the baby or something?” I shrug, not knowing what the hell I’m talking about, but I can’t help but wonder if my mom had enough ultrasounds, if they would have seen something wrong before she had me and she’d still be alive.
Zeek runs his hands over his face. “I’m assuming they never got her much medical care because of the fear of records and shit. It would lead Veer right to her.” Tinker, one of the club chicks hands Zeek a beer and winks at him before swinging her hips back behind the bar.
Scooting closer to Zeek so nobody can hear me. “Right, so I was thinking we could bring someone to the room. Someone we could trust.”
Zeek squints his eyes at me, his lips curling around the top of the beer.
&
nbsp; “You ain’t fucking that, are you?” That referring to Simone.
I scoff. A little too quickly.
“Fuck no. That’s Gatz’s lady, that’d be weird.” I scowl, but the idea of Simone being upset has me fucking pulling my hair out. I can’t stand it. I’d do anything to have her out of that room and mouthing me again. She’s sexy when she’s mad.
“Never would have stopped you before.” Zeek makes a point, one I ignore. “I’ll make some calls, few threats, and see what I can come up with. Maybe it will make her cooperate with your more if we please her.” He takes another swig of his beer. “What about your brother’s club?” I suggest. Zeek has a brother in The Devil’s Dust in California, the one Simone was staying at. They have a female doctor that is dating one of their boys, I bet we could trust her, hell, she might have seen Simone already.
“Yeah, maybe. Let me see what I can do.” Zeek looks to the counter. His brother and him had some beef awhile back, but they’ve since sorted it out. “We have a club meeting tomorrow.” Zeek changes the subject.
“I’ll be there. I can get prospect Rooster to watch Simone.”
Zeek laughs, the road name we gave the prospect amusing to him. He was a hangaround for the longest time, but one night when we were all shit faced we told him if he did four lines of coke and still managed to pick up a tourist chick from the Strip, we’d patch him in. With the way he was coked out of his mind, head bobbing like a fucking rooster we didn’t think he’d pull it off.
But his good looks, and desperation for a woman at her friend’s bachelor party won out.
I stand from the bar, finishing my beer.
“You know that lieutenant keeps coming around here asking for you.” Zeek peeks at me from the rim of his beer.
“Shiiiit.” I can’t shake this chick.
“She’s a real bitch too,” Tinker informs dryly from behind the bar.
“What’d you tell her?” I ask Zeek.
“You were on club business, you ain’t meeting her up in the suite, are you?” Zeek lifts an eye.
“Fuck no.” My brows furrow.
“Just don’t want your dick making mistakes.”
“Just push her in the direction of another dick,” I don’t do clingers.
Tinker rolls her eyes, turning to put ice in the bin.
Chapter 12
Simone
Sitting on the couch with a cup of tea cradled in my hands, I stare out the window at tourists walking below. Wondering if any of them are pregnant, and what their lives are like. Do they have a significant other, a baby room?
Looking at the ice bobbing in my tea, I reflect on what the ladies said to me in my room. I reached my lowest and just needed time to process everything that was happening to my life. Raven was kind and understanding, Alessandra encouraged me things would get better if I let them, and Jillian told me to forget Kane and tug my big girl panties up.
It was kind of like a bad cop, free spirit, good villain kind of chat. Either way, I can’t believe they came up here for me, it feels nice.
The door to the suite opens, and Mac walks in. Setting the cup down, I turn to talk to him. I feel like an idiot the way I broke down yesterday, but I just needed some time to process what was going on. The jaws of life devoured my soul and every time I think I might have escaped, something or someone around me has become a victim. Kane was an asshole to me and might have dumped me off like an unwanted step-child… but I could still be carrying his child.
Mac struggles through the front door, two bags in each hand.
I stand, hand on my belly.
“What’s that?”
“You’re out of your room,” he says with an exhausted voice, but lightened eyes. I look to the wall, a guilty feeling surfacing. He really tried to help me yesterday. I know it doesn’t seem like much to him, but his effort means so much to me. Nobody would have tried like he did.
He tosses the bags on the couch, grasps the back of the couch with both hands, and takes a deep breath.
“What’s all this?” Peeling a bag open, I casually glance inside.
“They’re for you,” he points.
I frown, surely, I didn’t hear him right.
“For me?”
Pulling the plastic open wide, my lips part. Books?
Reaching in, I grab them, pulling them out.
What to Expect When You’re Expecting.
Baby Names Today.
The Perfect Baby Room.
My glossy eyes dart to his, my hormones about to open the floodgates.
“You got these for me?” Disbelief painting my voice.
“I don’t know if you already know the shit, or already read the books but I didn’t see you come here with much of anything, so I thought maybe it’d give you something to do while you were stuck up here. Keep you out of my fucking hair.” He shrugs, reaching for the other bag.
I can tell he’s trying to not care, but he does. He fucking cares. Gatz, Kane, nobody has gone to this length for me and the baby.
He pulls out a pack of baby bottles, and a baby blanket with black glasses printed on it, and even some maternity shorts.
“Are those…” I point at the shorts in surprise.
“Shorts, yeah. I held my hands up to tell the lady about the size of your waist, so I’m not sure if they’ll fit, but it’s better than you walking around in your underwear or the same ol’ sweatpants all the time.”
Taking the shorts from him, I rub my fingers on the material of the shorts, it’s soft and elastic.
Shifting my eyes to him, I find myself becoming more and more attracted to him each day we’re stuck in this place together. My cheeks blush, my thighs clench as a racing thought to flirt with him crosses my mind. Testing the waters to see if he finds me attractive.
“You don’t like me in my panties?” I tilt my head to the side.
Hooded eyes fall on my ass, and my nipples perk from the sudden attention. “You keep walking around in those panties and I have a feeling we’ll be crossing a bunch of lines we won’t come back from, Pocahontas.”
I laugh. “In your dreams.” I don’t want to come off too interested, then I’d be just like one of the girls from his club. But Mac is a catch, and as horny as my hormones have had me… I’d be lying if I said the thought of us blowing off some steam together hasn’t crossed my mind a couple of times. When he’s near, I’m suddenly aware of the feral attraction clawing to get out of me. There’s a need inside of me that sees everything in Mac, and I’m terrified he sees me just as another chick.
The baby kicks, causing me to jerk forward. The movements are getting so strong I swear I’m going to pee myself sometimes.
“You okay?” Mac eyes me warily.
Grabbing Mac’s hand, I press it to my belly. The baby rolls under his touch, my stomach visually moving. Mac’s eyes search mine in confusion before lighting up. “Do you feel that?”
He nods silently, his face in awe and confusion. Like he’s realizing for the first time there’s an actual life inside of me. Taking my hand off his, he leaves his palm on my belly. The dark look in his eyes, the pinch of his eyebrows… I wish I knew what he was thinking at this exact moment.
Swinging dilated pupils my way, we sit there in silence as the baby and Mac get acquainted through my skin. The firm press of his palm and the heartbeat skipping in my chest is all I can focus on through the passing seconds.
Mac clears his throat, breaking the moment. He pulls his hand from my stomach, and a shiver bumps its way up my back. Leaning over the couch, he hands two blankets to me.
“Check out this baby blanket, it’s muslin, or some kind of soft shit, I don’t know.”
It’s as if getting too close scared him, making my assumption that Mac has a hard time feeling, accurate.
“Yeah, they’re soft,” I agree. One has little green and purple long neck dinosaurs on it, and the other pink and peach feathers.
“I figured you’d like the feathers, being Indian and all.”
He rubs his chin looking his purchases over. Silently laughing, I run my fingers across the feathers, the stories my grandmother used to tell me about our descendent tribes. It seemed so much easier back then.
“I also got you this.” Pulling from his back pocket is a pretty pink iPhone. Taking it from him, I’m in awe of its slick screen and matte pink backing.
“It’s under my name and all, so nobody can trace… but me,” he winks, bragging about his tech skills.
Placing everything back in the bag, I realize Mac got a lot of things, the phone had to have cost him.
“How much did you spend on all this?” I can’t help but ask.
“Doesn’t matter. Oh”—he reaches in the bag and tosses a thing of pills at me—“fucking take those, they’re important. All right?” I look the label over. Prenatal vitamins.
Closing my eyes, I control my breathing and reopen them. This man is breaking through my lust for him and lacing it with something so much more.
“You didn’t have to do this, Mac.” I try my best to hold the emotion back in my voice, but I can’t help it. I’m overwhelmed, nobody has done anything like this for me and the baby. He may not know how to interact with people, but he does when it counts.
He shrugs. “It’s no big deal. If it makes you stop sulking around the place, it’s fucking worth it.”