“A slap. She mouthed off. Jesus, Blue, focus on the problem here!”
He turned back to Faith, his eyes narrow. “Is it true, Faith?” He hadn’t called her ‘kitty cat’ for weeks.
She nodded, and he shoved her away so hard she fell back, landing in an armchair.
“I will kill that motherfucker. I will skin him alive and I will kill him.” He punched the tall filing cabinet, then did it again, leaving a smear of blood behind. “FUCK!”
Faith’s mother closed in on her father. “She has to get rid of it.”
Blue spun and faced her. “What?”
“She can’t have that psycho’s baby. He’ll be in her life forever.”
In this morning full of disorienting waves of pain, sorrow, and fear, that exchange got Faith’s full attention. Her mother wanted her to have an abortion. Faith had no idea how she felt about any of this. She was sad and scared; that was all she knew. She hadn’t wanted to be a mother—not yet, and maybe not ever. But if she was having Michael’s baby, that meant that she hadn’t lost him. That changed everything.
“Fucking Christ.” He laced his fingers over the back of his neck and pulled his head down, then stayed like that for several seconds, in a pose Faith recognized as his struggle for control. Margot and Faith both watched and waited.
Faith wasn’t worried. Her mother was a shrieking bitch, but her father wouldn’t force her to do something like that. He loved her. And she wasn’t even sure how her mother thought she could force her at all. She wasn’t eighteen yet, but she couldn’t believe that somebody would do an abortion she didn’t want just because her mom said so. That was nuts.
“Daddy?”
At her plea, her father looked up. He met her eyes and then immediately looked away, to his wife. “Get her out of here. Go back home. I’ll be there when I can. Keep your mouth shut. Do not talk to anyone. Do not do anything until we talk. And do not fucking touch her again. Do you understand me?”
What Margot saw in Blue’s eyes must have been chilling, because she didn’t fight back at all. She simply nodded and held her hand out toward Faith. “Let’s go.”
Faith ignored her mother and focused on her father. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”
He closed his eyes. “Get out of here, Faith. Just get out.”
~oOo~
Faith went to bed when she got home. She lay on her back and rubbed her belly. Michael’s baby was in there. She was scared, but she felt right, too. They couldn’t keep them apart now. And she knew that whatever her mother thought now, they wouldn’t make her ‘get rid of it.’ Maybe they would throw her out. She thought that might happen.
But she remembered her father raging one night about a girl Dusty had gotten pregnant. She’d had an abortion, and Dusty had beaten her for it. Blue had said he was right to do it, because ‘You don’t ever take a man’s child.’
So she knew it would be okay. When she heard her parents shouting at each other in the garage, she was sure of it.
When her father came in, carrying a tray with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bottle of Diet Coke, she sat up and smiled. “Hi, Daddy.”
He set the tray on her desk and went back to close her door. Then he stood against it. “Your mama made an appointment at the clinic. I guess she knows somebody there, and she got you in tomorrow.”
Faith’s mind blanked. Was he talking about just a doctor visit? “What?”
“Your mama’s right. You can’t have that bastard’s kid. I won’t let him fuck you up more than he already did.” He looked down at the foot of her bed, like he couldn’t look her in the face. “So you will go tomorrow and get rid of it. And then we can try to put things back the way they belong.”
“Daddy, no. I don’t want—”
“Decision’s made, Faith Anne. The time for what you want is long past. Now you do what we tell you, and we put this all back to rights.”
“No.”
“I’m not giving you a choice.”
“What are you going to do? I don’t want that! It is my choice! Are you going to tie me down and force me? Throw me out if you don’t like it—I’ll leave right now. I’ll find Michael.”
Her father, her daddy, stormed to her bed and grabbed her up by both arms. “Don’t you ever talk about him in this house again. You will do as I say. And here’s why—if you don’t, I will kill him. I know just where he is right now. I could have him held for me with a phone call. I will kill him, Faith Anne, and I won’t make it clean. Make no mistake. If you defy me, that’s what will happen. You say it’s your choice? So make it.”
Her daddy was gone. The man whose hands were digging into her arms was somebody else. She was losing absolutely everything. It finally all hit her, all at once, and tears crashed over her. “Daddy, please!” she wailed, and he let go of her, dropping her back to her bed in a heap.
She could feel him still standing at the side of her bed, looking down at her, but she kept her face buried in her arms and let the weeping have its way with her.
“You will go tomorrow, and you will go quietly, or he dies tomorrow night.”
She nodded. She had no other choice.
When he next spoke, his voice was a little farther away and broken with emotion. “I don’t know where my baby girl went,” he said and then opened her door and went out.
~oOo~
Margot stayed with her the entire time, holding her hand, the picture of a supportive mother. No one could see that her grip around Faith’s fingers was punishingly tight.
They did lab work and an ultrasound first, and then there was counseling to confirm the pregnancy and describe the procedure, and to confirm that Faith was sure she wanted to proceed. At first, she couldn’t find a voice to say the word, so she nodded. The doctor or nurse or counselor or whoever it was told her that she needed to say the word.
She cleared her throat and spoke. The woman before her cocked her head and looked hard at her, and her mother’s hold on her intensified, so Faith tried again, and this time she was convincingly clear.
They let Margot stay with her for the procedure, too. On the evidence of the reactions of the nurse and a couple of other staff, it seemed like that was maybe unusual. Faith didn’t care. Margot could have gone out to the waiting room and read a back issue of People. She had won.
With no other choice but to let it happen, Faith let it happen.
~oOo~
That night, while Faith lay in bed curled up against the cramps, Sly purring on her pillow, Margot brought her a hot water bottle and a big bowl of chocolate marshmallow ice cream with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. She left the ice cream on the desk and came over to the bed. Gently setting the hot water bottle against Faith’s belly, she pulled up the comforter and then brushed her hand over Faith’s head.
Sly growled quietly at her, as he always did, but she ignored him. “We fixed it, Faithy. This is better. I know you don’t believe me, but it is.” She left.
And Faith started to form her plan to get away.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Do I need to come to you?” Demon closed his eyes and hoped the answer was ‘no.’ He hated going into downtown L.A.
“I don’t see why at this point,” Finn Bennett’s reedy voice filled his ear. “I’m going to guess you won’t mind me saying that this is a great stroke of luck. With Tucker’s mother dead, and all of the evaluations and reports done for you and Tucker, there’s nothing holding this up anymore except the court schedule. I’m going to do what I can to get us on the docket soon.”
“You think I can win?”
“I don’t want to get your hopes up too high. Your record is a big strike against you. But the observation evals are strong, and Tucker’s caseworker and the family counselor’s report both recommend reunification. I’m optimistic.”
Demon grinned. Things were looking up. Everywhere he looked, things were getting good. “Okay. Thanks, Finn. Keep me posted.”
“I will. Take care, Michael.”
Dem
on put his phone in his pocket and smiled at his worktable. The cops had found and identified Dakota’s body. It had taken them a couple of weeks, but her death had been ruled an accidental overdose. Case closed. Now he was Tucker’s only surviving kin, and people were starting to believe he was a good father. He might actually finally catch a break.
He pulled his phone back out and dialed Faith. When she answered, his cock twitched. There was a way she sounded, answering the phone, knowing it was him, that was so…pleased that his chest ached with love. And maybe hope. Demon didn’t really know what hope felt like, but maybe this was it.
“Hey, you,” her voice smiled, “what’s up?”
“Hey, babe. Talked to Finn. He thinks it’s all gonna be over soon. He thinks I could get Tucker.”
“Oh, my God! That’s great!”
“It’s not done yet, but it’s the first time I really think we might be okay.”
“I’m so happy for you, Michael. I love you. I love you both.”
“We love you right back.” He looked at the bike he was working on. He had about an hour left to finish it. “Hey—can you get away? I’ll pick you up. Take a ride with me.” When they’d been together before, hiding in the shadows, he’d never had her on his bike. Now, they’d had a few rides, and he couldn’t get enough of it. Two of his most favorite things—the road, and Faith wrapped around him. They didn’t get many chances, though, between Tucker and Margot. But it should be good now—the middle of the day. Bibi had Tucker, and Leo, he knew, was on shift with Margot.
But Faith hesitated. “Um…okay. But I’ll come to you.”
Okay, something was going on. She’d told him that Margot was having trouble settling in, and she thought it was better if Tucker wasn’t around for a while, because he got her too excited. That made sense. He’d planned to make her a studio, but she’d put him off, saying the noise would get to her mom. That could make some sense, too. But today, Tucker wasn’t a factor, and he wasn’t coming over to bang around in the garage. It dawned on Michael that it had been days since he’d actually been at that house.
“What’s goin’ on, Faith?”
“Nothing. It’s just easier if I come to you.” There was a tiny, sharp edge to her answer. Defensiveness. Evasion.
“How’s it easier? You make a trip here and then we ride? It’s easier if I just pick you up on the bike.”
A pause. “Actually, I forgot. Leo has a personal errand she needs to run today. I need to stick around. I’ll just see you at the clubhouse later.”
It was St. Patrick’s Day, and the club was closing the shop early and having a midweek party. The heritage of the Night Horde was supposedly Norse, but that was the mother charter. Hoosier’s personal heritage was half Scottish, half Irish. The charter he led, whatever its patch, partied on St. Pat’s.
Demon, not much of a drinker, could have found more interesting things to do. Like ride into the desert with his old lady. But he wasn’t going to fight about it with her on the phone. He wasn’t going to dig into whatever had her skittish, either. Not on the phone.
He decided it wasn’t worth making anything tense between them. Things were good, finally good. Her hesitation was probably just about Margot being a bitch, anyway. No point getting bunched up about that, though it would be a problem to work out when they were ready to live together.
“Okay, babe. I’ll just see you later.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, hon. I love you.”
“Love you, too.” He ended the call and put his phone away. Disappointment and a faint, lingering shade of suspicion dimmed the sheen of his good mood, but it couldn’t dull it completely.
He might get his son.
~oOo~
Most of his brothers were well on their way to drunk and neck deep in pussy when Faith got to the clubhouse. The place reeked of corned beef and cabbage—not, in Demon’s opinion, one of the world’s best smells. But that was what Hoosier wanted: beer and corned beef. And soda bread. And Jameson.
Though Demon didn’t think he’d ever actually been to Ireland, Hoosier went all out for the Irish traditions on this night of the year. He had Irish folk music blaring from the sound system, a big Irish flag over the bar, and the girls had strung plastic shamrock lights all over the Hall.
Demon thought all that was wasted on this crowd. With the exception of a greater number of hangarounds and some off-key singing along, it was just a club party. He sat at the bar and nursed a beer.
Seeing the attached Horde in the Hall with their old ladies was making him impatient for Faith. He was tired of being lonely.
Though Bibi was in club mama mode, managing the girls who hadn’t gotten pulled away by patches, making sure that people were served and the food was on schedule, Hoosier, full to his eyeballs with Jameson, was on her every chance he got. She complained loudly, but she was laughing, too.
Muse and Sid were sitting in a chair in the far corner of the room, making out like teenagers. Demon laughed to himself. Sid must have gotten pretty damn drunk already. She didn’t usually like to make a display like that. Muse didn’t seem to be minding at all, but he wasn’t getting more than R-rated. Demon figured them for the dorm soon.
Diaz had his wife, Ingrid, on one of the pinball machines. Ingrid was Finnish or Dutch or something, and her English wasn’t great. She and Diaz spoke Spanish together. She didn’t show up at the clubhouse often, because she worked a lot—and, anyway, she had trouble keeping up with everything going on. But she was a model and pretty comfortable being on display. She was the only old lady Demon had ever known who was perfectly happy to go to town right in the middle of everything—and didn’t need tequila to get there.
Tucker was with Bart and Riley and their kids. Riley was, like, eight months pregnant or something—she looked like a tiny Goodyear blimp—so they were taking a pass on St. Pat’s and had invited Tucker for a sleepover. They lived in a mansion and had every conceivable toy and game. They also had a Great Dane named Odin, and Tuck thought that dog was probably God.
Demon thought he’d like to get his son a dog of his own someday.
The most sober man in the room by a wide margin, Demon sat at the bar and watched the door, waiting, so he saw her when she walked in. Forgetting the strange roadblock in their phone call, he smiled when their eyes met. Fuck, what it did inside his chest to love her and be able to feel good about it. To love her and to have her. Years of longing and guilt were all worth it because they’d brought them here: Faith Fordham walking through a packed clubhouse, her light eyes sparkling, her smile wide with love.
It was all worth it.
She was wearing faded jeans tucked into tall, black boots. The jeans were really holes surrounded by strips of denim, with bright green lace…stockings? Tights?…underneath. He didn’t know what they were called, but they were hot. Her top was just a plain white, low-cut t-shirt, and she had a black denim jacket over that.
“Hi, babe.”
He held her face in his hands and kissed her. When he pulled her in for a hug, metal poked at his arms, so he looked over her shoulder at the back of her jacket. Then, curious, he turned her around.
“What’s this?”
She had fashioned a set of angel’s wings, spanning her shoulders, on the back of her jacket. Made of probably hundreds of safety pins. He laughed. She did love to make things out of things that were something else.
He leaned close, so she could hear him over the din. “Do you ever just see a thing for what it is?”
Smiling, she shook her head and turned her mouth to his ear. “What a boring way to see the world.”
It was how he saw it, just as it was. And she was right. Her way was better. Everything about her left him in awe.
He slid his hand under her shirt and felt her bare skin twitch on his palm. “It’s just you and me, babe. Tuck’s with Bart and Riley. How long can you stay?”
“Jose said he’d stay over.” She hooked her hands on the back of his neck. “I can spend the night.”
It felt like it had been forever since they’d been able to spend a night together. And they’d only been able to spend a few so far. “Let’s go back to Hoosier and Bibi’s.”
But she shook her head. “I don’t want to take the time. You have a room here, right?”
The thought of bringing Faith into his room here gave Demon pause. He’d fucked club girls there. Not his old lady. He looked back toward the dorm, hesitating.
But she stepped closer and slid her hands under his shirt, scratching her nails over his back, and he just wanted to be with her. Right now. Wherever. Leaving his beer discarded on the bar, he took her hand and led her back.
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