by Naomi West
There had always been some sense of shame surrounding the topic of sex in our house. My parents were well-meaning, but they were very conservative, and they truly still believed that a woman should save herself for marriage. And when I had admitted to them that I was pregnant, that taboo had grown even stronger.
God, they were so ashamed of me — enough so that they had sent me down to Louisiana to stay with my grandparents. Of course, they'd come down to visit Cole at least every couple months, but our relationship would probably never be the same as it once was.
I bit my tongue to keep from crying out as I scissored my fingers inside of myself, easily finding all the spots that drove me wild. I had a lot of practice at this, truth be told. Sex with Brian, my soon-to-be ex-husband, had always been fine, but I had never been able to shake the feeling that he was just using me. The thing was, if it hadn't been for that night with Jake, I probably would never have known otherwise. But Jake had just made me feel so…
I muffled a groan, clenching tightly around my fingers as my orgasm overtook me. I couldn't think about Jake's easy ministrations, about the way the he had opened me up and gently worked at my folds until I was ready to fit his girth, about the way he had gone slowly and steadily, letting friction rather than force do the trick, until I was a writhing mess on the sheets.
Nothing like that had ever happened with Brian. Usually, he finished pretty early on and left me shuddering against the sheets. I don't know if he thought my shudders were due to some silent orgasm or if he just didn't care that I was still practically vibrating with need, but I'd gotten pretty good at taking care of myself over the years.
I sighed as I stared up at the ceiling, knowing I needed to put all of these thoughts out of my head so that I could go back to sleep. And yet…
It was difficult, now that I was back home again — in ways that I hadn't anticipated. Everywhere I went, every time I thought I heard a motorcycle, I imagined that it might be Jake. When I was out on my own — on the rare moments when I could leave Cole with my parents and go out for some fresh air — it was thrilling to think that he might see me, that we might bump into one another and … well, I didn't know what we might do, but I had a good feeling about things.
But when I was out around town with Cole, it was vaguely terrifying to think that we might bump into one another. I had known from the time of Cole's birth, despite obviously never having seen baby pictures of Jake, that he was the spitting image of his father. And that resemblance had only strengthened as the kid grew up. Now, it would be impossible for Jake to see him without realizing that the kid was, in fact, his.
What would he say when he realized it? Would he be angry with me for never having told him? He had missed the first seven years of his son's life, and although I knew my parents' intentions had been good when they had sent me to Louisiana to stay with my grandparents, I also couldn't help thinking of how I would feel if my child had been kept a secret from me, if I had missed all of those beautiful firsts.
Of course, Jake was a cool biker dude; I couldn't expect him to feel the same way about having a child as I did. To him, Cole would probably be just a hindrance to the lifestyle that he wanted to lead. To me, Cole was my whole world. I couldn't imagine my life without him — I wouldn't even know what to do with myself. Not that I didn't have friends or hobbies, but nothing would fill up my time and the void in my heart if I were to ever lose the kid.
But Jake was more likely to be upset that I had kept the child, that I hadn't had an abortion or put him up for adoption. But that wasn't very fair, and I knew that. I had never asked Jake for anything. I had made sure that Cole had clothes and schooling and everything else that he would ever need.
Things were different now, though. I needed Jake's help. And he might resent that. No, scratch that— he had to resent that. After eight years, suddenly I had reappeared to tell him that, oh yeah, we had a son together and my crazy soon-to-be ex-husband wanted sole custody of him.
I sighed and rubbed at my eyes, thinking back to the conversation I'd had a few days before with Tiffany when I'd first gotten back in town.
“Wow,” she said, staring out the back door to where Cole was helping Mom with her garden. “He's really grown up.”
I laughed a little. “I mean, he was pretty big the last time you saw him!” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but he was, what, four?” Tiffany asked, shaking her head. “Just look at him now. He wasn't even in school last time I saw him!”
“Well, if you had managed to get down to Louisiana a little more frequently...” I said.
She laughed. “Easy for you to say. I only get, like, ten days of vacation time a year, plus three sick days. And even when I'm supposedly on vacation, my boss has a tendency to call me anyway about various meetings and other projects, just to make sure I'm still caught up on everything when I return to work!”
“You're too much of a workaholic,” I said fondly.
She grinned at me. “Speak for yourself, Ms. Somehow-Balances-a-Fulltime-Job-with-Raising-a-Good-Kid!”
I laughed too. Suddenly, Cole turned and saw us standing there just inside the house. His whole face lit up, and he pointed at Tiffany, chatting excitedly with his grandmother—probably telling her about all the ways Tiffany had spoiled him the last time she had visited.
“So, you're going to tell Jake about him, right?” Tiffany asked, watching my face closely to see what kind of reaction I had to that question.
I tried my best to keep my expression neutral and my tone casual as I shrugged. “I don't know,” I said nonchalantly. “I mean, I've thought about it, sure. I just am not sure how he'd take the news. I don't want him to think of us as a burden.”
Tiffany snorted. “You've spent the past seven years making sure that he didn't think of the two of you as a burden,” she pointed out. “You clearly can take care of yourselves without his help — but it might be nice for you to have some good company. Jake's a good guy; he and my brother get along really well, remember.”
“I'm not so sure the fact that he gets along well with your brother is a resounding endorsement,” I ribbed, grinning at her.
Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Yeah, probably not,” she agreed. “I swear, I don't think I'll live to see the day that kid actually grows up and wraps his head around this thing called 'responsibility.' But that's neither here nor there. Jake's responsible. He's got a job. Hell, he owns a business. And–”
Whatever else she was going to say about him, she was interrupted by Cole tearing open the sliding glass door and flinging himself into his “Aunt” Tiffany's arms. “Aunt Tiff!” he cried, and for once, Halley didn't remind him to use his inside voice. It was cute seeing how excited he was to see her best friend—and she had felt the same way when Tiffany had met her for coffee that morning, to be honest.
“Hey buddy,” Tiffany said, ruffling the boy's hair. “You been being a good little man for your mom?”
I sighed again. I knew that I owed it to Jake to let him know that he had a son. And especially if we were going to settle down there in Millhaven, he needed to know — before he found out some other way. I didn't need to live in constant worry that we were going to run into the man at the grocery store or somewhere else around town.
I had his number. Maybe I would give him a call and invite him to lunch or something like that. Something non-threatening, on neutral ground. Something that wouldn't develop into another one-night stand. I could tell him all about Cole, and then maybe, depending on his, he might want to meet him.
I could only hope so.
I rolled back over, staring at the wall, and eventually fell back into a restless sleep.
Chapter Four
Jake
Bryce came back into the living room and held out another beer to me. I took it gratefully, using the opener on my keyring to pop off the cap in one smooth, practiced movement. I took a healthy swig, nowhere near drunk enough to deal with the chaotic thoughts running through my head.
> This seemed to be my near-constant state ever since Halley had come looking for me at the shop. That had been four days ago now, and I still couldn't seem to get her out of my head. My thoughts were a jumbled mix of what-ifs, both past and present. What if she had stayed? What if I had gone to Louisiana to find her? What if we hit it off again? What if...
“Dude, where the fuck is your brain lately?” Bryce asked, and I realized he had been holding out his bottle to clink against mine for a few seconds now while I stared off into oblivion.
I shook my head, trying my best to clear it, and tapped my bottle against his before I drank another large gulp of the liquid. “Sorry,” I muttered. “There's just stuff on my mind.”
“What kind of stuff, though?” Bryce asked. “Come on, man, we're best friends; you can talk to me about these things. Maybe I could even help you. Surprising, I know.” He paused. “Seriously, though. Is it something with the business?”
“Nah, it's nothing to do with the business,” I said. “Thankfully. Things have been actually really good lately. We've all been working hard, and that leads to—”
“Oh, come on, man. Don't start sounding like a corporate boss!” Bryce laughed a little, but his face quickly fell back to the serious, concerned look that he'd been sporting before. “I take it you're probably not just wondering how you're going to spend that bonus check that you'll be able to cut yourself in light of all this good business?”
“No, I already know that that's going to a new paint job,” I told him, frowning. “You know that too.”
“I know, I know,” Bryce said, holding his hands up placatingly, and I realized that my tone had been harsher and more agitated than I'd meant for it to be.
“Look, it's nothing big, okay,” I said, shrugging one shoulder. “Let's just drop it.”
“Uh huh,” Bryce said, shaking his head. “Man, I've never seen you like this before. Just spill it.”
“There's a girl,” I finally admitted.
Bryce's eyes got big. “Oh. Wow.” He laughed again. “Dude, I totally didn't see that one coming.” He leered at me. “So, she's got good tits and you keep getting lost in 'em?”
I silently tried to decide how much I wanted to tell Bryce. “Remember when Halley came into the shop the other day?”
If anything, Bryce looked even more comically incredulous. “Did you start banging her again?” he asked.
“No,” I said hotly, picking at the label on my beer bottle. “Do you remember that girl that I slept with five or ten years ago, at that girl Tiffany's party? At the biker bar.”
“Oh yeah,” Bryce said, rolling his eyes a little. “Jesus, you would have thought you were some woman, with the way you were pining after her. Like, one-night stand and you suddenly think the two of you are soulmates or something.” He took a sip of beer and promptly choked on it. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, shaking his head. “You don't mean to tell me that that was Halley, right?”
I didn't say anything, and he groaned. “Oh fuck, dude. Why didn't you tell me that the other day? That explains so much.”
“Yeah,” I said, scrubbing a hand back through my hair. “Thing is, I still don't know even what she wanted. And I stupidly gave her my number instead of writing down hers.”
“Rookie mistake,” Bryce said, smirking at me. “If you want something that badly, you have to be proactive, man. Don't go putting the balls in someone else's court.”
“I know,” I moaned. “I keep hoping that I'll run into her around town. I've been going out of my way to go through a bunch of different neighborhoods and whatever else I can do, but I still just haven't seen her. It's eating me up.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Bryce said. “I mean, I still think you're nuts, but that explains why you've been a total space cadet lately. You're kind of edging your way towards creepy stalker levels, though.”
“I just don't know what else to do,” I said miserably.
“What about what's her name? Tiffany?” Bryce asked. “You met Halley at her party, right? And wasn't she the one who told you that Halley had moved? Wouldn't she have, I don't know, at least a phone number or an email address or something for your girl?”
“I hadn't thought of that,” I said, inwardly cursing my stupidity. Of course, Tiffany would have that information; years ago, she had told me that the two of them were really close friends, and they probably still were. Even if they weren't she could probably point me in the right direction. Or at least, I hoped so.
I bit my lower lip, looking around the place and suddenly realizing how stupid I was to be having this conversation in the middle of the Devil's Route clubhouse. Sure, we were the only ones in the living room at the moment, but anyone could walk in at any time. And hell, there could be people listening from out in the hallways or anywhere. I winced.
“You're too suspicious for your own good,” Bryce said, chuckling a little. He knew me well enough to read my sudden change of mood like that.
I shook my head. “Remember that Frank has announced me as his heir to the Devil's Route MC,” I said, keeping my voice down just in case we were being listened in on. “And that means that certain people are going to be looking for any way to stab me in the back. Showing a stupid weakness like—”
“Falling for a woman isn't a weakness, Jake-o,” Bryce interrupted, shaking his head. “Plenty of bikers have wives, remember?”
“But getting hung up on a woman who was meant to be just a one-night stand is...” I shook my head. “Look, let's drop it, all right? But I'd appreciate if you would keep this whole thing private for now. The last thing I need is anyone else from the club mucking around in my personal business.”
Bryce shrugged. “Sure thing, man. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
I rolled my eyes at him and drained the rest of my beer, already getting up to get another one.
Chapter Five
Halley
I stared up at the imposing, brutalist building, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
“Come on,” Tiffany said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I mean, after all the shit you've had to deal with living with Brian, this should be, like, the least scary thing you've had to do in years.”
I gave her a look. “Not helping.” It was kind of funny, sure, but it hit a little too close to my already frazzled nerves.
Tiffany sighed and squeezed my shoulder. “Halley, you know as well as I do that things are only going to get better — for you and Cole both — once you guys officially start working on a divorce. And forget for a minute about the whole custody thing. I know you've only been putting off signing the divorce papers because Brian told you he was going to sue for custody, but you know the judge would be mad to award custody to that drunken asshole.”
I sighed, closing my eyes for a long moment and counting to ten. “You're still not helping,” I told my best friend, but when I opened my eyes again, I was at least able to crack a small, amused smile. “Let's just get this over with.”
I led the way into the building, trying to ignore the way my high heels echoed on the smooth tile and the way it was just this side of too cold in there with the air conditioning turned up high. I had my task in mind, and I made my way quickly to room 239 with Tiffany trailing along behind me.
When we finally sat down in front of the attorney, Mr. Barry Esposito, I was a jittery mess; the only thing keeping me even remotely sane at the moment was Tiffany's never-wavering grin of encouragement. “So, Mrs. Scott,” the man said, drumming his fingers on his desk as he opened up my file. “How are you today?”
“I'd prefer that you call me Ms. Talin,” I said, grimacing. “'Scott' was my married last name, and as you know, I'm hoping to get that ... fixed.”
The attorney smiled at me. “And we can do that,” he said. He handed a stack of papers across the table towards me. “These are just the standard legal documents for the divorce. You'll need to sign them today, and then a copy of them will be delivered to Brian which basically
says that we're opening the divorce procedures against him. It also lists all the assets and the splitting of them, as we had discussed before. Since all that you've asked for out of this is custody of Cole and you've left the house and everything else to Brian, I don't foresee him wanting to fight you on it. It should be a fairly easy split.”
I cleared my throat a little awkwardly. “I expect that Brian may try to. sue for custody of Cole.”
Barry's eyebrows rose towards his hairline. “Oh really?” he asked. “But isn't one of your main complaints about your marriage the fact that he is an alcoholic and prone to drunken rages?”
“Yes,” I said quietly, twisting my fingers together. God, I'd be so happy just to be done with this whole business, with this whole awkward mess.