The fact of the matter was, he hadn’t told her though, and that’s what hurt more than anything. In the years they’d been together, she hadn’t fully earned his trust. She’d stood by him, no matter what had gone on, and he didn’t trust her? If he had, she would have been the first person he ran to with any problem. It hurt like a motherfucker that he didn’t trust their relationship enough to come to her with any problem he had, and damned if it didn’t piss her off too.
Her temper ignited. She could feel her blood pressure skyrocket and her hands shook with fury. It wasn’t fair. She was going through something too. Namely a pregnancy she hadn’t planned, one he refused to acknowledge. Her emotions were all over the place, her boobs were growing, she couldn’t fit into her goddamn favorite dress anymore, and her feet were getting wider. She realized these were all first-world problems in the grand scheme of things, but what about her? Her feelings?
When the fuck had her life turned into a Lifetime movie?
She tried to think back to what she’d done wrong. Had she been clingy? No way. She had her own apartment, and he stayed at the clubhouse more often than not. Had she demanded too much? Fuck no. If anything, she’d demanded too little. Ten-plus years into their relationship and she didn’t even have a patch. That was a pitiful thought and caused tears to come to her eyes. Her chin wobbled and she shakily inhaled a breath, trying to calm her out-of-control emotions. She was letting hormones get the best of her, and she knew it, but she also couldn’t stop it. Everyone else at least had a fucking patch. It gave them a certain amount of respect and told other men to stay away. He hadn’t claimed her in that way, even. Did that mean he’d never really wanted her? God, that was an awful fucking thought.
There hadn’t been talk of a promise ring, much less an engagement ring. Had he even asked to move in with her? No. There’d not even been a mention of living together. He never wanted to leave much at her apartment either—almost like if he didn’t make a place there, then he didn’t have to admit that he felt at home. He couldn’t lose something if he never put down roots. Right? She was starting to see that, starting to partially understand why he’d always balked at any of the suggestions she made. It didn’t make anything easier though. If anything, it pissed her off even more.
It was enough to make her throat close with emotion. Why did other people get what she wanted? And why did he drive by here—and by her apartment? She knew every time he did. She could pick his bike out of a hundred. She’d been listening for it for years.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her stomach. There was no use getting upset about this, she tried to tell herself. There were things in her life she could change, and she knew this situation wasn’t one of them. Not easily anyhow. When would she matter to him? When would she be the person he put before himself? Why had she wasted so many years?
That’s what hurt more than anything. The wasted years. Her best years. Ones she could have given to someone who gave a damn. But in the back of her mind, she knew he had given a damn. In his own way, in the only he could. She wasn’t sure if that made her a good woman or a pitiful excuse for a doormat.
Her stomach chose that moment to revolt, and she bolted from her chair, running past Charity to the bathroom. She prayed with everything she had that once she started, she could stop, that this wouldn’t be hours-long puking like she’d had a few days ago. She couldn’t blame this on a stomach virus forever. Luckily she had her pills with her today.
Her throat burned and her eyes watered as she kneeled over the porcelain, working her throat muscles to expel everything that was coming up.
Real tears streamed down her face as Mandy realized just how much she wanted Dalton with her. She wanted him here for this part, wanted someone holding her hair out of the way, wanted him holding her hand, rubbing her back and offering comfort. Instead, she laid her warm cheek against the cold tile floor when she was done, hoping the stomach acid would stay down for the rest of the day.
Charity stood outside the bathroom door, cringing as she heard Mandy letting go of everything she possibly had in her stomach. She ran her hands down the skirt of her business suit and wondered if she should offer to help.
Grabbing her cell phone, she made a quick call to her husband. They were both worried about Mandy, and just the other night they had been discussing if this was really a stomach virus or something serious. A stomach virus that had been going on for almost two months seemed excessive. Secretly, she wondered if her friend was pregnant, but she was scared to mention anything to anyone. Obviously if Mandy wanted people to know, she’d tell them.
“Hey, beautiful.”
The timbre of her husband’s voice never failed to put a smile on her face, and his compliments never failed to color her cheeks with a blush.
“Hey yourself,” she answered back, letting the enjoyment wash through her.
He must have walked away from what he was doing because the sounds of the garage faded. “To what do I owe the honor of a mid-afternoon phone call?”
She could tell by the smile in his voice that he was hoping to parlay this into a quickie, which they’d done earlier in the week, but this was serious.
“Mandy. She’s puking again.”
Immediately the whole tone of the conversation shifted, and Drew sighed. “I’m worried something is really wrong with her, and she’s not telling us. I mean, we don’t know much about our family, either Mom or our biological dad’s side. What if some sort of health problem runs there and she’s keeping it to herself? There’s no way in hell this can be the stomach flu.”
Charity agreed. “But then we’d be calling her a liar, and what kind of asshats would we look like? It’s obvious she doesn’t feel well. She’s got dark circles under her eyes, she’s not eating much, and I caught her almost falling asleep at her desk last week.” Charity sighed. “Drew, I’m scared it’s something serious.” She left out her suspicions of a pregnancy.
“Me too, baby, me too. We’ll get to the bottom of this if it’s the last thing we do. I’m not going to let her be sick and let her deal with this on her own. I’d never do that.”
There was one thing the both of them knew. Mandy wouldn’t talk until she was ready, and waiting was the hardest part.
Chapter Six
Dalton pulled into the gas station at the corner of Porter Pike and Louisville Road for three reasons. He needed gas, he desperately wanted a cigarette, and he was nervous as hell to ask Liam for a leave of absence from Heaven Hill. Truth be told, he was wavering, wondering if it was really the smartest decision he’d ever made.
Getting off his bike, he stuck his debit card in the gas pump, selected his fuel grade, and filled up. Fuck, his shoulders were tight; hell, his whole body was tight. He had no idea what he was doing, all he knew was worry. Worry that everything could be pulled from his hands before he even got a chance to enjoy it. That must be what other men waxed poetic about; why they protected the women they loved with their lives. Thinking of losing them was scary, pushing them away was dumb, but watching them grow to hate you? He rubbed his chest. That hurt like a motherfucker.
The gas pump kicked into the off position as he finished topping the tank. He hung up the nozzle and glanced around, making sure no one was waiting for his space. When he saw there were only a handful of other cars and bikes at this store, he stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and walked towards the front door.
Once inside, he walked up and down the aisles, doing his best to kill time before his meeting with Liam. Could he really ask for a leave of absence? What good would it do? Part of him knew it was necessary; the other part didn’t want to let go of the protection he knew came with Heaven Hill. He was conflicted in the worst way and wasn’t sure what the fuck he was going to do. When he realized he couldn’t waste time in here anymore, he made his way to the front counter.
“Can I get a pack of Marlboro Reds?”
The cashier couldn’t have been much older than Tatum, but she gave him a smile tha
t was years beyond her age and slid them across the counter with a wink.
“Are you a member of Heaven Hill?”
He’d met many girls like this over the years, and right now, he didn’t have the patience. “I am, but trust me, sweetheart; all of us are men who want a woman with a little more experience and age than what you have.”
He slid a ten-dollar bill across the counter toward her, walking away without waiting for his change.
Shaking his head, he pushed the door to the store open and stopped in his tracks. Waiting at his bike was the man he’d been trying to get a meeting with for weeks. Calvert stood beside the front tire, facing him down.
Dalton wasn’t sure if his dad had actually come through or if the rumblings going through Bowling Green had finally flushed the bookie out. Either way, he was thankful, because he was sick of trying to chase his tail.
“Calvert.” He hitched his chin up as he walked towards his bike.
“Barnett.” Calvert did the same move, almost mirroring Dalton’s gesture. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.” He walked to meet Dalton where he stood in the middle of the parking lot.
Needing something to do with his hands, Dalton worked on packing his cigarettes, beating it roughly against his palm. “I have,” he acknowledged. No use in denying it; anyone he’d talked to would have told Calvert he was looking. “I need to talk to you about Samuel.”
Calvert nodded his head up and down in an exaggerated way. “Samuel. Yeah. He owes me big, and he’s walking a thin rope on his payment plan.”
“Payment plan?” This was something new and really kind of pissed Dalton off. He had been hoping to go to Calvert himself and ask for an extension. Looked like that was now out of the question.
“Yeah. Samuel owed me money two months ago. You’re a little late to this party. Been too busy with that hot lady of yours, I guess.”
Dalton took in a few deep breaths, holding them so that his heart could slow down, so that he didn’t speak out of anger. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“But she will.” Calvert smiled. “Because I want my money way more than I want to hurt anybody, and while I know you have access to some, the down payment on that land you have your eye on, doesn’t touch what your uncle owes me. The person who does have access to that kinda money? Liam Walker. And if you don’t ask him for it—then I’ll do whatever it takes to get it. If Mandy ends up bein’ collateral damage, or any other female belonging to Heaven Hill, then so be it.”
Finally done packing his cigarettes, he flipped open the top, got one out, and stuck it to his lips. His movements were deceptively lazy as he lit the end and took a huge drag off the end. “You’ll get your money.”
“I have no doubt that I will, Dalton, no matter how I have to get it.” He walked closer to the younger man, his voice low and threatening. “Remember that. I think you know I’m just dying to prove to Heaven Hill I can take what’s theirs. I don’t need to hurt anybody to prove I can do it either. Just the thrill of pulling one over on the pied pipers of Warren County is enough for me.”
He reached over, took a cigarette out of Dalton’s pack, and leaned in, lighting it with the glowing end sticking out of Dalton’s mouth. “I’m never too far away. Doesn’t matter if you’re with her or not, doesn’t matter if she’s alone. Doesn’t really matter if she’s going to the doctor either. Appointments every month at an OBGYN office? That could give someone the idea she’s carrying a bun in the oven. Until I get what I want, I’m gonna keep her in my sights.”
With those words, he walked off, blowing smoke in the air. As Dalton watched Calvert leave, more than ever he knew he had to get this taken care of, and he would do his best to do it himself.
Chapter Seven
Dalton tapped a beat that only he heard against his jean-clad thigh. Nerves caused his stomach to clench and a slight sheen of sweat to pop out on his forehead. He’d been waiting for what felt like a year to get a one-on-one meeting with Liam. While their pres was accommodating, times had been busy, and he hadn’t wanted to press his luck. Especially because of what he wanted to ask. Liam could easily say no, and he hoped being patient would get him some leeway with the man so many of them looked up to. He needed this favor like he needed his next cigarette. If he had any hope at all of helping his uncle, he needed time, and right now, that was a precious commodity.
The shop was busier now than it had ever been, fuck what his dad thought. Their client base was strong, and they’d been getting by legitimately for a long time. They didn’t have to have their hands in everything because they made damn good money doing things their own way.
“Dalton, c’mon in.” Liam walked through the clubhouse holding a file full of papers as he opened the door to their meeting room. Here they had some privacy, and within that privacy Dalton would beg if he had to. He wasn’t beyond that. Things had to change, he had to get some relief from the stress he was feeling. If he didn’t, he was going to go crazy, and that helped no one.
He’d specifically asked they not do this at the garage. This was his business and no one else’s. He’d inadvertently pulled Mandy halfway into it, and he wouldn’t make that mistake again. He didn’t want Drew involved, didn’t want Tyler involved, and didn’t want anyone else to stick their nose where it didn’t belong. Most of all, he didn’t want to bring this to Heaven Hill’s front door.
“You asked to see me privately?” Liam motioned for Dalton to have a seat and then had a seat opposite him. The pres gave his full attention as Dalton struggled with what to say. He’d never been good at asking for favors, and never wanted to disappoint anyone. Right now he felt like a world-class fuck-up.
And Liam was tired. He could tell by the way the other man ran his hands through his hair and blew out a breath. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, and Dalton hated to add this stress onto him.
Playing with the edges of the long-sleeve shirt he wore, Dalton nodded. “I did. There are some things I need to talk to you about, a favor I need to ask. Some issues going on in my life that I need to take care of.”
Liam frowned. This didn’t have a good feeling; in fact it felt downright bad. That little dip in his gut that told him when something was off; it was positively vibrating. “Is this about what’s going on with you and Mandy? A lot of us have noticed things have seemed off with the two of you lately. Is there anything I can do?”
How could he look at the man who’d been his hero for most of his adult life and ask him these questions—basically lie to his face? How was he going to pull this off? How was he going to live with himself when this was all over? That was the better question.
“This is personal. Some of it has to do with Mandy, but I’d prefer to keep that between me and her, if you don’t mind. There’s a lot she doesn’t know, and I’d like to keep her in the dark, where possible. Not because I’m stepping out on her,” he was quick to assure. That was the very last thing he would do and, from what he heard, the very first thing people were quick to assume. “Just because I don’t want anyone coming to her for answers she can’t provide.”
Dalton could tell Liam did mind, but he bit his tongue, and for that Dalton was grateful. He didn’t have the stomach to get into everything that was going on. The ulcer he’d been nursing since he was a teenager had made a reappearance lately.
“I need to take a leave of absence from the club.” There, he’d said it. No beating around the bush, no pretending like it wasn’t what he’d come here to ask. He’d gotten straight to the point and hoped like hell Liam would too.
The pres recoiled almost as if he’d been hit in the chest. There was more to this request, much more than Dalton had let on to anyone. With everything, Liam wanted to fix it. He wanted his boy to be good, but that boy had to be honest with him first. “My man, what’s going on? Are you in some kind of trouble? We can help you.”
Dalton wanted badly to ask for the help that the older man was trying to give, but at the same time, Dalton was reluctant to bring
the club into this. Maybe if he couldn’t handle it on his own, he’d fess up, but it was too embarrassing—the fact that his uncle couldn’t stop the gambling, the fact that Dalton couldn’t fix the problem.
Add onto the mix that Mandy was pregnant.
What kind of a fuck up had he turned out to be?
“This is something I have to do on my own. I appreciate the offer, but it’s family related.” He was careful not to go into specifics, because Liam could pick up on something quicker than anyone he knew except Tyler.
“This doesn’t feel right to me,” Liam argued. “If you need help, you come to us. That’s what we’re here for. We’re a family so that you don’t have to handle shit on your own.”
“This is my shit.” Dalton raised his voice, punctuating his point by slamming his hand down on the table. “I don’t want to bring anyone else into this. Samuel is my family, and I’ll take care of it.”
Realization flashed on Liam’s face. He understood the situation much better now. “So it’s your uncle?”
Dalton was losing his patience, and he was pissed at himself that he’d let the small tidbit slip. “I’ve said too much already. Do I have my leave of absence or not?”
“I’m gonna cut you a break because I can tell you’re going through some shit right now, but you need to lose the motherfuckin’ attitude with me. You have two weeks. Figure your shit out, and whatever you do, don’t drag my daughter down with you. I find out you have, and you’ll deal with me. Got that?”
Exactly what he’d been afraid of the entire time. “Loud and clear.”
As he turned away from the table, Liam yelled after him, “Next time you talk to me like this, you’ll leave the cut at the door.”
Heaven Hill Series - Complete Series Page 153