by Sam Crescent
“The men in my club will not touch your rancid pussy. Not after this. You went after the wrong woman, Milly. You really should have left her alone.”
“I can help you with the cop. He’s been sniffing around here, asking all kinds of questions. I can get him off your back. I mean it.”
He stared at her and shook his head. “I want nothing from you.”
He walked across the basement, moving a set of shelves out of the way, and running his hand across the wall. Pressing the button, it opened up, and he removed his equipment.
“You know, it has been a long time since I tortured someone. A couple of years, especially down here. When I have to be quick about something I go to the warehouse, but in the basement, I can take my sweet time.”
“I’ve got a date with the cop.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“You must have enjoyed her virgin pussy,” Milly said, spitting the words out.
Bear, where he was sitting on the step, suddenly stood. “What the fuck did you say?”
“To torture me, to hurt me. I heard you asking around about the woman in your bed.” Milly laughed. “I saw the blood on the sheets. She must have been a real tight cunt. No man had ever touched her, and now you will live with knowing you were her first.”
Bear moved up into her face. “That’s my little girl you’re talking about.”
Preacher didn’t stop him from hitting her.
He did so twice, shattering her nose.
Milly screamed, and Bear shook his head.
“You’re dead,” Bear said. “You’re going to pray for death long before he grants it to you. I’ve seen what he does when he gets started. There is going to be nothing left of you, and you’re going to pray for mercy. He’ll never grant it to you.” Bear turned to look at him, and Preacher nodded.
Within seconds they were alone. The only sounds in the room were Milly’s sobs.
“I only wanted to be important. Everyone cares about Robin, but she’s still a woman, like me.”
“Robin is nothing like you.”
He opened the pouch containing his most prized tools, running his fingers across each handle, smiling. He’d missed this.
Grabbing a scalpel, he was going to start on her pretty face. Turning to Milly, he smiled. “You were right about one thing,” he said.
Milly looked at the scalpel, then at him.
“She really did have a nice tight pussy.”
****
Two weeks later, Robin sat on the edge of her brand-new bed. It wasn’t too hard or too soft. It felt … amazing. She loved it. She couldn’t recall a time she’d had a really perfect night’s sleep.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she dropped her hand back into her lap and held her left hand in her right one, staring down at the simple gold band.
Two weeks wasn’t a long time. Her life had changed so much.
Within the last two weeks, she’d become Mrs. Robin Rose Keats, and she now also lived with Preacher and Bishop.
Bear and Rebecca hadn’t put up a fight. They were both rarely home, and Preacher wanted it to look like she and Bishop were excited about the baby. For now, they hadn’t informed the school of her delicate state.
They were due to go to the hospital in a few days. Randall had already done the blood work to confirm she was pregnant.
She’d been sitting at the dinner table when Preacher got the message.
Lifting her head up, she stared across her bedroom at the mirror that was facing her. Part of her felt like it was mocking her.
Tears filled her eyes, and she felt sick. She always felt sick, but according to the good doctor that was normal.
A knock on her open door made her turn to see Bishop standing in the doorway.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Even though she was pregnant and Preacher had asked him to take care, he still found a reason to argue. She couldn’t help but wonder if he really enjoyed their arguing. She didn’t want to believe it. Who would enjoy fighting? She sure didn’t.
She slid her hands beneath her legs and offered him a smile. “Hey,” she said.
There was no point in accepting his apology. They would only be fighting soon enough again anyway. There really was no reason to pretend they wouldn’t be.
“I didn’t want to fight, and I’m so freaking sorry. I fucked up.”
“It’s okay,” she said.
“No, it’s not. I know none of this is your fault.” He walked into the room and sat down beside her, taking her hand, linking their fingers together. “You know I love you.”
“Yeah, I know. Love you too.” She rested her head on his shoulder.
“I just can’t believe it, you know. I thought Milly was a nice girl. She was always so sweet.”
That’s because you were giving her what she wanted.
Robin hadn’t asked about Milly. There really wasn’t any point to. She didn’t care. In fact, since her mother dragged her into the clubhouse to reveal the identity of the father of her child, she hadn’t been back to the clubhouse.
Having everyone stare at her was not a place she wanted to be.
Bishop didn’t let go of her hand. “It was supposed to be me, and I guess I’m jealous.”
She laughed. The sound was forced even to her. “It’s not like I walked up to Preacher and asked him to sleep with me. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for Milly.”
“I know. I know.” Bishop let go of her hand and got up. “I just … you’re mine.”
“Bishop, I don’t belong to anyone. I’m not a piece of property. I’m just me.”
“You will always be mine.”
“You’re not listening.”
Bishop cupped her face. “I love you. I wanted to be your first, your only.”
She covered his hands with her own. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she didn’t want him to be. Instead, she offered him a smile.
No matter what she said to Bishop, he heard what he wanted to, and saw what he did.
She was surprised he still went through with their rushed wedding, not that either of them had any choice in the matter.
Preacher was there, and Bear, Rebecca, and most of the club were there to see her married to Bishop.
Her mother had even been nice to her, telling her it was a good thing Preacher wanted to take care of her, how some men would have asked her to get rid of the baby.
She didn’t know if that was ever going to be an option.
At the moment, she didn’t feel pregnant. Everything seemed to be going by in a blur.
“You’re going to be giving birth to my fucking brother or sister. That is just messed up. I can’t even think about it because when I do, it creeps me out. I’ve got to get out of here,” he said.
“Where are you going?”
“Away, I just need some fucking space to think.”
She took a deep breath as she listened to the unmistakable sound of the door slamming.
Running fingers through her hair, she got to her feet and made her way downstairs toward the kitchen, coming to a stop when she saw Preacher.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
They hadn’t been alone since it happened.
“Am I okay to make myself something to eat?” she asked.
“Yeah, of course. This is your home now.”
She nodded her head and made her way into the kitchen. She didn’t know when Preacher arrived back home, but she wasn’t going to ask.
Opening the fridge, nothing jumped out at her to eat, and she kept on staring. There was a list of foods Randall had advised she stopped eating.
Now, staring into the fridge, she wondered if starving would be a good idea.
Just great, Robin.
Yes, of course, feel sorry for yourself. It’s what you’re good at. Always feeling sorry for yourself.
“What’s with Bishop?” Preacher asked.
She turned to see him leaning against the counter. His
leather cut was still on, and he looked menacing.
“Erm, I don’t know. He said he needed to clear his head. I really don’t think this was a good idea.” She held her hand up with the wedding band. “I honestly believe he feels trapped. He doesn’t like how I’m going to be giving birth to his sibling.” She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think I can even think about it.”
“All the Bishop crap aside, how are you dealing?” he asked. “The pregnancy. Us.”
She lifted her head up, pulling out a bowl of boiled pasta. Preacher did most of the cooking.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not eating pasta.” He took the bowl from her. “Sit down. I’ll cook.”
He removed his leather cut, hanging it up on the edge of the door before returning to the kitchen.
She watched as he washed his hands before gathering stuff from around the kitchen. She didn’t know what he was making and didn’t bother to ask.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Yes, no, I don’t know. The night itself, it was … weird. I vaguely remember what happened, I mean, I know what was going on, but I never saw you. I woke up, and you were passed out. I feel like I should be afraid, but I know that you didn’t know it was me.”
“I can tell you it’s the last fucking time I’m getting drunk.”
She snorted. “Sorry, I shouldn’t … forget it.”
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Robin. I want you to understand that no matter what, I would never hurt you.”
The time when she was sixteen flashed before her eyes. She’d been ill, and the school had sent her home. Only, because of how out of it she’d been that morning, she’d forgotten her key and had no way of getting into her home.
She’d paid for a cab to take her to the clubhouse. Now, only a few cab drivers would actually take her within the walls of the clubhouse. Most often, they dropped her outside, or a few feet away. Some would even make her walk ten minutes so they didn’t appear on Preacher’s radar.
There was always a reason there was a huge secure wall keeping outsiders out.
This had been one of the days when the cab driver made her walk ten minutes. When she finally arrived, she happened to notice that most of the people weren’t there. There were no women, no club men hanging around.
They were so quiet.
She’d heard the screams first.
Trying to find her dad, she’d stumbled onto a scene of torture.
A man and woman had been stripped of their clothing, and there was no mistaking their dirty selves. They’d been covered in piss, shit, and other bodily fluids.
When it had come time to kill them, she’d seen it.
Afterward her father had yelled at her and Preacher had forced her to repeat the words he’d spoken.
“I didn’t see anything. I was sick. I passed out.”
“That’s all you say. If you don’t, I will not hesitate in killing you, Robin.”
“I know.”
The threat had been real, but she knew enough about the life to know she had to keep her mouth shut. She wondered if it hadn’t been for her father, if he’d have killed her already.
“Are you okay?” Preacher asked, waving a hand in front of her face.
“Sorry, I think I drifted off for a second there.”
“You did. Do you believe me?”
“Do I believe what?”
“What I said, that I will never hurt you.”
“I know.” He made no move to touch her and went back to stirring some onions and garlic in a saucepan. “Do you enjoy cooking?”
“No, I hate it, but I also don’t like takeout. I can’t help but wonder if someone has spat in my food.”
She laughed. “I don’t for a second believe anyone would dare spit in your food.”
“I’ll never know. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with cooking. It’ll be good for you and the baby.”
“How do you feel about all of this?” she asked, touching her stomach. “I don’t feel any differently. I mean the morning sickness is horrible and the tender bre—I mean, tender body can be a little upsetting, but other than that, you know, I’m okay. I feel okay most of the time. I should be okay.”
“I do believe they have creams for sore breasts.”
“I didn’t mean sore breasts.”
“I’m a guy. I know what you meant. I can pick you some up.”
“Okay.” She couldn’t look at him. “I guess you know about this.”
“There’s only been one time I’ve been through this with Bishop.”
“Were you close to his mom?”
“Nope.”
“Ah.”
He sighed. “If there is ever anything you need, anything at all, creams, or … books, or whatever it is you are into these days. Just tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”
“You don’t have to change your life for me, or try to make me more comfortable. I know this wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Just because it wasn’t supposed to happen doesn’t mean we can’t make the most of it now. I will take care of you, and one day, Bishop will come around.”
“Are you sure?”
“He doesn’t have much of a choice. It’s an order from me.”
“You’re still his dad. Does everything have to be an order?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
Preacher served them both “Come on, let’s go and eat at the table.”
She sat beside him as he handed her a plate with a fork already balanced on it.
“This looks really good.”
“Enjoy.”
She speared a piece of pasta and slid it into her mouth, closing her eyes. “Oh, wow, this is amazing.”
“Just a good tomato sauce and pasta. You don’t need anything else.”
“You have so got that right.” She took another bite. It really was good. “How is my dad?”
“Bear’s holding up. I think it’s hard for him to know he’s going to be a granddad to my child, but he’ll deal with it.”
“You’re used to a lot of people dealing with it.”
“Shit happens in life. It’s not always my fault, but I deal with it.”
Just like she had no choice but to deal with being pregnant, married, and living in the home of her best friend and her baby’s daddy.
Chapter Eight
It didn’t take a whole lot of time for it to get around school that she was pregnant. Of course, some of the girls were a little more spiteful. The fact she wore a wedding band really pissed a lot of people off.
Bishop, when they were out in the open, always acted the part of devoted husband. Robin smiled as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips against her neck. It was all for show. He’d spent time with her. Random moments that were shared with each other, nothing else.
Closing her eyes, she basked in the feel of him, the closeness. It was strange. She had always enjoyed being close with him, but since she’d gotten pregnant, he treated her as if she was some kind of disease he had to hold off.
It was so strange to her.
“This is nice,” she said, spinning around, and he pressed her up against her closed locker.
“What is?”
“You, holding me. Treating me like I actually exist rather than pushing me away.”
“Give me a break here, Robin. You know this is hard.”
“You think this is hard?” She shook her head. “You know, it’s not easy for me. Do you really think I wanted any of this?”
“You know, getting rid of it is still an option. Preacher wouldn’t mind.”
She stopped. She’d not been asked about what she wanted to do with the baby since the revelation of who the father was. She’d not thought about getting rid of it.
The morning sickness did suck and continued to be a problem for her. Also feeling sick at the slightest of smells wasn’t exactly a good thing. There was a lot she was hating about the pregnancy, but there were moments when
she’d think about her little baby. She didn’t know if it was a boy or girl. Randall had advised her she may not get to see the sex of her baby on the first ultrasound, which he’d set up at his private clinic for next week.
Bishop and Preacher both said they’d be there, but she didn’t know if she could rely on them to show up. There was so much to be uncertain of.
She spent a great deal of time on her own. Bishop was always out, probably with half of the girls who hated her guts, which wasn’t a problem. She completely understood he had his own life to lead, and even though they were married, they had this big problem between them.
It will only get bigger and rounder.
“I … erm…”
“Robin Riley.”
She turned her head to see Principal Arnold walking toward her.
“Sir,” she said.
Bishop didn’t pull away from her.
She was still reeling from the revelation that Bishop wanted her to get rid of it, or at least it was an option.
Was it really an option?
“You’re wanted in my office.”
She looked at Bishop. He grabbed her bag. “Let’s go then.”
“You’re not coming here.”
“You think I’m going to allow you to drag my wife into your office without being close. Believe me, I will be there. Her name’s Robin Keats now. Remember it.” Bishop took her hand, and it was like their time at his place didn’t matter. They were together now when it mattered.
When they got to Arnold’s office, the principal stood in front of Bishop.
“I’ll call my father,” Bishop said.
She noticed how Arnold tensed, and she stepped into his office, not wanting to cause any more trouble.
She paused when she caught sight of O’Klaren. Preacher had warned her O’Klaren was making all the rounds on the club kids, men, women, and families. This was the first time he’d approached her.
“I heard congratulations are in order.” He pointed at her finger. “I checked everything out. I even went by to see your mother and father. Both gave you their blessing to be with that … boy.”
She took a seat, looking at him.
“Well, it makes me wonder if that was all necessary.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”