His Virgin Bride

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His Virgin Bride Page 22

by Kara Hart


  I pee on that damn stick. It’s not the first time I’ve done it. Darrin and I went through the rounds a handful of times. He never wanted children, despite promising me them someday. Ultimately, it was a good idea we never pursued that path, but if I’m fucking pregnant now, I’m done for. My life will be over.

  The time it takes for this damn test to show results feels like a lifetime. I hold it in front of me, waiting for the image to show up. Please. Please don’t say positive. Please tell me I’m just stressed the fuck out.

  The image starts to form. My heart pounds. My vision slows down. Tears form in my eyes. Positive +. I let out a horrid cry. “No!” I scream. My voice falters and I can’t even say anything. It can’t be. It has to be wrong.

  I rip open another test and go through the motions. Positive +. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper. “Shit, no!” Tears pour from my eyes, trailing down my cheeks. Walker. The motherfucker who got me pregnant.

  Where is he now? Where will he be tomorrow? I’m never going to get that call from him. There’s never going to be another chance. Even if there was, he wouldn’t stay with me to raise a baby. How stupid am I? I have to be a fucking moron to ruin my life this much.

  “Are you okay?” a woman asks me through the stall. “Do you need help?”

  “I’m fine,” I whisper. “I’m…” I don’t know what to say to the woman. Do I tell her I’m pregnant with a foreign man’s child? “I’m just going through something right now.”

  “Okie dokie,” she says, walking away.

  Okie dokie. Everything is just hunky dory. I’m pregnant and I’ll never get my life back.

  I call Renata and close my eyes, trying to block the world out. “Erica? What’s up? You okay?”

  “Ren,” I cry. “I’m pregnant. I’m fucking pregnant.”

  Six years later…

  “Aidan! You’re going to be late for the bus!” I yell. “Ronnie?”

  I’m finishing making his sandwich. I throw in a plastic bag of carrots. I leave a note inside. “Have a wonderful day, my love. Mommy misses you!”

  First Grade. It’s such a big thing for a mom. He’s getting so much older. “Mommy! I feel sick!” I hear him yell.

  “God dammit, Aidan,” I whisper. It doesn’t mean he’s not a little faker. I walk into his room and he’s taken off his clothes and tucked his body under the covers. “Aidan, come on. You don’t have much time. You’re going to miss the bus.”

  “Mom, I’m sick,” he groans and fakes a cough. I walk over and feel his head. He actually feels colder than normal. There’s not a trace of too much heat in his body.

  “Aidan, you feel fine. Don’t kid me. I won’t read to you tonight if you do,” I warn him.

  He groans loudly and rolls out of bed. “Sorry,” he says. I put his shirt over his head and he wiggles into it. I put on his pants, his socks, and his shoes, all in such a hurry.

  “Come on, baby. We only have five minutes.” We rush outside the house and run as fast as we can. I can hear the brakes from the bus. It stops at the corner for a brief second, and leaves. “No! Wait!” I yell, but it’s already gone.

  “Dang it!” I hiss. This whole going to school, making lunches, and then going to work thing is impossible, I swear.

  “It’s okay, momma,” he says. “We can drive.”

  “Okay. Let’s go,” I smile and look at the bright side. Sure, raising Aidan alone is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s still a damn blessing. “I’ll race you!”

  I start running and he follows after me. “Head start!” he yells. “You cheated!”

  “No way!” I laugh, touching the door of the car first. “Mom wins!”

  “Not fair,” he pouts. I open the door, put him in the backseat, and we head for the school.

  Every single day he leaves my sight my heart breaks a little more. Seeing him grow is just about the best experience I’ve been through. But he’s getting older. He’s starting to ask questions. All of the other kids have dads. Where is his?

  I can’t even answer that at this point. I thought that by now I would have heard something from him, but of course there’s just static. He left to London and never came back. Most likely, he found a job, met a beautiful woman, and pursued that as much as he could. Do I blame him? That, I can’t answer.

  “Bye, mom!” he says, unbuckling his seat belt.

  “Give me a kiss, Aidan.” He kisses my cheek and jumps out of the car. “I love you so much!” I say, feeling my heart expand.

  Part of me feels angry with Walker. Another part of me is just confused. If I just got some clarity, I’d feel so much better about everything. I’d feel like maybe I could move on. Still, I think about him every day. I know it’s crazy. But I do.

  It’s not that I still like him. It’s not even about that. He’s a part of me now. More than that, he’s a part of Aidan and he deserves to know who is dad really is. Not to mention, there’s some child support I could really use right now. The ten thousand only lasted so long. Now, with my new lower-level marketing job, I’m making half of what I used to.

  Right now, Aidan’s the easiest thing about my life. I scroll through my email, looking for a certain email address from my father. He broke his hip last month and he’s not doing too well. The doctors are worried about his recovery and I keep reading horror stories about how it shaves the years right off your life.

  Before I even open the email, I brace for impact. “He’s doing much better…. expect a full recovery.” The words are uplifting. My father’s going to be okay. Still, there’s more to worry about. He’s living off of his monthly government checks and can barely afford the medical expenses. He doesn’t have insurance to cover it. So, of course, I’m the one stuck with the bill.

  Work is stressful enough, but it goes by a bit faster than usual. I give my presentation, receive a round of applause, and I walk into my office to pour myself a little celebratory drink. We got the account. All seems good.

  A knock on my door brings me out of my celebrating mood. My boss, Jake Hyde, opens the door with a smile. “Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting. That was a great presentation.”

  “Thanks, Jake,” I smile. “Would you like a celebratory drink?”

  “No, I’m okay. I actually just came in to check up on you,” he says, turning more serious. “Is everything okay at home?”

  “What do you mean? Everything’s fine,” I say.

  He smiles again and thinks hard to himself. “Shoot, there I go again. I’m not phrasing things correctly,” he says. “I just mean, you’ve got a ton on your plate. If you need anything, just let me know, okay?”

  “Thank you, Jake.” I give a forced smile.

  “Okay, I’ll talk to you later then,” he says, ducking through the door. “Fantastic presentation!”

  I give him a thumbs-up and sit back in my chair. Do I have lot on my plate? I sure fucking do. Jake has been trying to fuck me since I started working here. He comes into my office at least twice a day to tell me how great I’ve been working, but the whole time he just stares at my breasts. At this point, it’s become a hassle. If Walker was still around, maybe I could get him to stop.

  There’s no one that I want, not even Walker. There’s no man for me because all men are shit. At least, that’s how I’m feeling right now. I slump back in my chair and close my eyes, breathing as slow as I can. The doctor says I have high blood pressure and I need to “take it easy.”

  Everyone has advice for us single mothers. They don’t realize that we’re just surviving through the day. I’m waiting for that sunlight to fade, so I can lie in bed, watching my favorite television show, while the light of my life plays with his action figures on the floor. Nobody said this was going to be easy. I knew that from the get-go. There are moments of joy, however. And I don’t regret that for an instant.

  When I call Renata, however, I tell her one thing only. “I need a fucking drink.”

  Walker

  “Now that you’ve been back for a wh
ile, do you want the chance to make some real money?” he asks me, sitting back in his high leather chair. The way he’s looking at me, I can instantly tell that there’s a catch involved. His eyes say it all.

  “Money?” I laugh. “More than I was making? I came back to settle the score. That’s it, Hawk. I thought I settled it.”

  He leans forward, fingers intertwined. His gold rings reflect against the light. In the ashtray in front of me is a burning cigar, directly from Cuba, no doubt.

  “Walker, Walker, Walker. I thought we were friends,” he smiles. “Don’t we have a strong history together? Why are you trying to run away so soon?”

  “You made me who I am today, Hawk. You gave me the confidence to start my own business,” I say. “I came back to pay my respects.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t give you the permission to do it behind my back,” he says. “You know I deserve a cut of that money. Besides, do you really want to keep courting to women all your life? You need to start thinking bigger. Long term. You won’t be young forever.”

  He fails to understand what I had back in America. I had millions in worth. You don’t need anymore than that. I was going to invest in property. I was saving my money so I wouldn’t have to work in ten years. However, there’s something else on my mind. Something that’s worth more than a couple of crinkled up bills.

  “I met someone,” I tell him. “I’d like to get the chance to get back to her.”

  “A client?” He laughs a hearty laugh. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with one of those women. That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

  “Not a client. This was someone different. It was organic. It was real,” I tell him. I think about the last time I saw her. She was sound asleep and smiling against her motel pillow. She was happy and I knew I would be the one to end that happiness. I’d be the one to break her precious fucking heart. A cold burning sensation fills my chest and I start to get angry. “She was everything.”

  “Stop lying to yourself. Money is everything to every man. Wealth is the single route to power and you know it,” he says. “Those politicians we help come to us for our services. They know we’re the best in the business. But once you left, we received less and less calls. They fancied your business skills, Walker. You see, you hurt me more than you know.”

  “That wasn’t my intention,” I say. “Anyway, where are all the other lads? Who are these young kids?”

  “I sent them to various locations. Thailand, America, Germany. You know how it goes. The older ones get more opportunities, like any business. Only, they did it the right way. You, my friend, were a snake in the grass.”

  I’m not going home anytime soon. He’s got me where he wants me now. “Tell me the job,” I say. “And if I do it, can I go back home?”

  “We’ll talk about that later,” he says, pleased with his level of control over me. “In the meantime, we’ll discuss business only. This job I’ve been mentioning is massive.”

  “Bangers? Drugs? Women? What are you importing now?” I ask him.

  “There’s another group in London. Dalston, actually. Can you fucking believe it? In fucking Dalston of all places. I need you and my boy Edward to shut them down.”

  “Shut them down? We never used to play those games? Why now?” I ask him, feeling my stomach sink. Violence was never my thing. I never dealt in that arena. It’s almost as if he’s putting me on the job just to dig under my skin.

  “The times are changing. Can’t you see? Look around you, Walker. Look how beautiful this block has become,” he says. I glance out the window and see that he’s right. In the daytime, it’s very clear that they’ve done some work to this area. Women are outside, walking their dogs. Kids are playing in a park nearby. Their laughter can be heard all around us, even in this dingy room.

  “I love to help the people. You know that about me. But, of course, that comes with some difficulties. Other groups would like to meddle in our affairs. They pay off local police officers to come and hassle us. Just this week we had one officer ask a young worker what he was doing out on the corners. We can’t have that, Walker. Someone needs to pay,” he says.

  “You’ll have a full out retaliation if you do that,” I tell him. “They won’t allow it. You need to strike a deal.”

  “You were always keen to deals,” he laughs. “As for me, I’m a bit old fashioned. I prefer the blunt use of force. I’m not saying we send a message. That offer has come and gone. I’m saying we shut them down for good.”

  “I’m not killing anybody,” I tell him. “I won’t be a part of that.”

  “Edward will go over all the details with you. I won’t take no for an answer,” he says. The door suddenly opens and a young man with a shaved head and face tattoos comes in. “Edward! There you are, my boy. Come, come. Meet Walker. He’s a dear old friend.”

  I stand up and shake the chap’s hand, knowing that I just made a deal with the devil. “Nice to meet you,” I say.

  “Sure thing,” he smiles. “Come with me.”

  I look back at Hawk, who motions me forward. There has to be a way back to Erica. There fucking has to be. I thought I’d come out here for a year tops. Here I am, six years later, and I’m trying to put the pieces of my life back together. I’m stuck in a flat with half the money I used to have. I don’t see an escape in sight.

  Edward is mean looking. He looks like he’s ready to kill. When we head to the bar area of the house, he sits down and smiles, revealing a set of gold teeth. “So, we’re partners on this thing now?” he asks. “Hawk seems to look at you like your kin. Funny thing is, I’ve never heard about you.”

  “Well, I’ve never heard of you either,” I say. “So, tell me. Who the fuck are you?”

  I expect him to give me a head butt to the nose or a fist to the eye socket. Instead, he just keeps on smiling. I order a pint and keep my cool, despite wanting to go home. Normally, I’d be staring out the rainy window, counting the days until I could see Erica again. I must be fucking crazy. I met a woman and fell in love with her. Maybe it’s because of the distance. Maybe I just think I love her. Either way, I need to know. I need to see her again, to feel her in my arms.

  “I’m Edward Johanson. That’s all you need to know,” he says. He grabs my pint and drinks it down, fully, in one gulp.

  Fucking wanker, I think to myself. “Look here, mate. I don’t fucking like you. I don’t fucking like this place. So, if we’re going to get along, you best stay out of my way.” The English in me is starting to come out more.

  “You’ll like me soon enough,” he says, cryptically.

  “Oh? And why’s that?” I ask him. “Because I look at you right now and I hate your face. I hate your gold teeth. I hate your shitty tattoos. I hate what you stand for.”

  “You’re looking for a fight. I can see that,” he smiles. “If that’s what you fancy, I can give you that.”

  “You’d lose in a second,” I say. Maybe I am looking for a fight. It would be something exciting at least. I’m so fucking depressed about everything that I feel like this world needs some shaking up. If that means lying in a gutter, bleeding out, then so be it. I don’t give any fucks anymore.

  “You’re longing for something unattainable,” he says. “Whatever it is, if you help me, I can help you. You can have what you want.”

  The bartender slams another drink down in front of me and I half expect him to take it. Instead, he points to it and says, “This one is yours.” I drink it faster than him, feeling the carbonation hit just right on the back of my throat. I slam the glass down and order another.

  “That’s the spirit,” he says.

  “How can you help me if you don’t know what it is that I want?” I ask him.

  He looks around to see if anybody is listening. When he feels comfortable, he whispers, “For the right price, I can help anyone. Just don’t go running that mouth of yours or you’ll get nothing. Hawk is smart. He knows you want to leave. He’ll be keeping
a sharp eye on you, but he trusts me.”

  “You’re his right hand man,” I nod, starting to understand the dynamic. He’s got my old job. He’s going to take from Hawk just like I did.

  “Correct, but let’s stay to the subject at hand” he says. “Whatever it is that you want, you complete this job first. Got it?”

  “I can do that. But I’m not firing any guns. I’m not killing anybody,” I tell him.

  “All you have to do is hold the pistol in front of your face. This isn’t fucking America. This is England, remember? They’re not going to have many pistols lying around, but you need to be able to aim. We just have to scare them a little. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “I want to go back to America. I want to change my name. I want to disappear,” I tell him. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I just need to see her again.”

  He nods and lights up a fag. He inhales sharply and taps his fist against the wood bar. “Alright. I’ll help you then. See you on Monday, eh?”

  “Bright and fucking early,” I tell him.

  Erica. I don’t know what you’re doing right now. I don’t even know if you’re still available. All I know is that I fell in love with you that night and I fucking hate myself for leaving. I hate myself for my past. I hate myself for throwing away your number. I thought it would help you stay safe and away from me. I was so wrong.

  I think about you night and day. I dream of your lips, your legs, and that beautiful, warm face. I miss it all so much, but I’m coming home soon. Just hold on a little longer.

  Erica

  All I hear is moaning and sharp breathing. All I feel is clawing, touching, and hard clutching. His hands run down my stomach, moving in between my legs. My thighs close around his palm and he fingers me hard. “Walker,” I moan. His cock brushes against the bottom of my wetness. I’m yearning for him so fucking bad. I need him. “Fuck me,” I whisper.

 

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