An Unholy Trinity

by C. Tyler

  Truth be told, I’m kind of surprised she has the balls to come and see me.

  “So.” Her voice isn’t shrill or anything, but it makes me cringe. “I heard Chas is stayin’ with you and Spencer.”

  I arch a single brow and shrug. “And?”

  Her dull brown eyes narrow. I can tell she’s agitated. I just don’t care. “Yeah, well.” Her tone is clipped and short. “He won’t be staying long.”

  “Oh?” I don’t want to humor her, but, given she and Chas haven’t been together in years—as far as I know—her claim is a little more intriguing than I’d like to admit.

  “Yeah,” she snaps. “Oh. He needs to be with his son.”

  My eyes narrow, and my head tilts to the side. Confusion is clearly written across my face, and Macy seems to love it because she smiles wide. She crosses her arms defiantly over her chest, shifts her weight to one leg so her hip pops out, and continues to beam at me while I try to straighten out my thoughts.

  Chas and Macy only have daughters—Amy and Teresa. I met them both before I left. At the time, Amy was two and Teresa was recently born, so there shouldn’t be a son.

  A pit grows in my stomach. A small voice inside my head is telling me how this is possible, but I don’t want to listen to it.

  “What?” I say before I can pull it back.

  “Yeah.” She nods. “We hooked up before he got sent to jail.” Cold sputters through my veins, and my face drops. “And it was good.” My stomach turns. “He always did say my pussy was the best he’s ever had.”

  I feel like I’m going to be sick because images of her and Chas together are racing through my mind against my will. Macy’s always been crass, so her blunt statement doesn’t surprise me, but the thoughts it brings out does. As a result, I need some space, but she doesn’t seem willing to give it to me. She still stands there, smiling like she somehow accomplished something.

  “You should go.”

  “Why?” she asks sarcastically. “Don’t like hearing Chas prefers fucking me? Well that’s too goddamn bad.” She looks me up and down with disgust. “You know, everyone talks about you guys.” She meets my gaze judgingly. “Everybody talks about how you fuck both of them at the same time, how you probably fucked half the club, too.”

  My jaw clenches painfully tight. There were always rumors floating around in school and stuff that Chas, Spencer, and I were together growing up. They were right, sure, but none of us cared about the wagging tongues of townspeople. No one in the club cares, either. They never did. Why would they? I think they saw the connection among the three of us and left it at that, so I don’t know what Macy’s point is bringing it up. There probably isn’t one, other than a weak attempt to make herself feel superior. That’d only work if I was ashamed of what me and the guys are, and I’m not.

  “You need to go,” I say again, this time speaking through my teeth.

  “Why?” she repeats in the same derisive way.

  “Because,” I reply. “You’re standing in a store filled with axes, tarps.” My voice turns almost singsong and it’s downright creepy, even to me. “Duct tape. We even have an entire aisle of rope.” Her taunting smile begins to waver, and I think she’s starting to realize how serious I actually am. “Go. Now.”

  Her brown eyes dance over me briefly, and as though she wants to save face, she scoffs, scowls, and walks out the door. The moment she’s gone, I start to shake. I can’t explain just how furious I am. Words seem to fall short. I’m not mad that Chas slept with his ex. We weren’t together. Hell, I wasn’t even in Hope, so I don’t have the right to be mad, but now there is just another tie binding him to that bitch.

  Jesus. Why didn’t he wear a fucking condom…

  Leaning forward, I prop my elbows on the countertop and bury my face in my hands, sliding my glasses out of the way when I do. The thought of Chas being bound to Macy more than he already is physically hurts my heart. He is a genuinely good guy and did everything he could to be there when his girls were little, including staying with Macy so much longer than he should have. I know he’ll do the same again, which means he’ll be leaving me to stay with her.

  I try to keep from crying. I don’t want to have to sit back and watch Chas go through that again, go through that heartache just to be around his kids. Macy loved using them as bargaining chips to get everything she wanted. Because of his criminal record and his (alleged) gang ties, a judge will easily side with the woman without a criminal past should she take it to court, and when the girls were little, every time he didn’t do what she wanted, Macy threatened court. I hated seeing him torn in two like that—ripped apart because that bitch kept him from his girls—and now it looks like it’s going to happen again.

  Macy is the type of woman that goes for the ankles. She makes sure her threats cut deep, and this poor little boy is her new bargaining chip. And Chas will go to him, will bond with him, and will give Macy everything she asks for because now he has a little boy.

  I think she got knocked up on purpose. The girls are just old enough that now Chas doesn’t just hand Macy a wad of money when she asks for it. Instead, he gets the girls whatever they want directly, cutting out the middle-man. But with this little boy here, now, well … that gives Macy back her free, expendable cash. I know she doesn’t give a shit about her kids. She just cares about them because they can get her stuff, like government assistance, club protection and help, and Chas.

  And I’m not going to stand in the way. That’s the worst bit. I’m not the kind of person that’ll keep him away from something if he feels like he has to do it, and I know he’ll feel obligated to “his” son.

  Tears trickle down my cheeks and my jaw quivers as I struggle and fail to keep from crying. God, I hate Macy.

  ****

  I got off work a couple hours before the guys got home. Spence was first and in his usual playful mood, but I wasn’t. He seemed to notice something was wrong with me almost the moment he closed the front door, but I didn’t tell him what just then. Instead, I suggested we should wait until Chas comes home. He’s off-put for the following hour, but I don’t want to talk about this without our giant. It’s just better to wait for Chas to get here.

  When he does finally come through the door, Chas is in a mood similar to my own. He pauses at the door, eying both me and Spencer on the couch. I’m leaning back against one of the arms with my legs in Spence’s lap, as comfortable as I can be, but when his gaze falls to me, my back tightens. Spencer notices our combined somber attitudes instantly.

  “What’s going on?” he asks.

  Chas doesn’t immediately speak. He just continues to stare at me. I can tell he’s spoken to Macy today. Not only was he planning to see his girls, but he has that defeated look in his eyes again, the one that only comes out when she’s involved. And given Macy is an all-around bitch, she probably told Chas she stopped by the shop to see me.

  It feels like hours pass, but it’s seconds at most. I thought Chas would speak first, but he doesn’t. So, I do because I somehow already know what’s coming.

  “Chas is getting back with Macy,” I say with my eyes still on the giant.

  “What?” Spencer snaps. His attention shoots to Chas. “Are you fucking kidding me, bro?”

  Chas’s expression drops, and his head dips. He looks like he’s already been through hell, like he’s emotionally drained at nothing more than my statement. It’s just further proof of how negatively Macy affects him.

  “No,” he finally says.

  Spencer slides out from under my legs and approaches his best friend. “Why?” He tries to keep the angry tone from his question, but he doesn’t really succeed.

  Chas runs his fingers through his long hair out of nervous habit. “Before I went to state,” he begins to explain, reluctantly meeting Spence’s confused and borderline angry stare. “Mace and I hooked up.” Spencer’s jaw clenches. He didn’t seem surprised by the fact the two had sex, but from the looks of it, he knows what’s coming. “
And I guess she got knocked up.”

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  Chas nods heavily.

  “Jesus Christ,” Spencer groans.

  He turns his back to Chas and paces for a moment as he tries to think of something. He’s as aware as I am about what’s going to happen next, and the hell Chas is going to experience because of the harpy.

  “You sure it’s even yours?” he asks as he whips around to face his brother again. Chas can do little more than shrug. “Get a fucking test, bro. Don’t let that bitch get her hooks into you again.”

  “In the meantime—”

  “Don’t.” Spence shakes his head. “Come on, man. Don’t do this shit. Not again.”

  Chas stares back remorsefully. “I don’t have a choice. If he’s mine…”

  He lets his sentence dangle. We all know the kind of man Chas is, and we know what he’s going to do, but Spencer still felt the need to try to talk him out of it. In the end, we know he’s going to Macy’s house. We know he’s going to sleep there tonight.

  Silence stretches among the three of us for a moment or two, and I can’t take it anymore. I feel physically sick, and without a word, I stand up and leave.

  I trudge through the hall and into the master bedroom, dipping into the bathroom as quickly as possible. I can feel the bile rising in my throat, so I turn on the cold water and splash my face. I do my best to make the feeling go away.

  It probably looks like an extreme reaction to Chas leaving, but it makes perfect sense to me. He’s mine, goddammit. He’s mine, and I shouldn’t have to share, least of all with someone he actually hates. I shouldn’t have to sit back and watch him put himself through hell again. I shouldn’t have to watch Macy chip away at his soul and his sanity like she used to. I shouldn’t have to watch him slip into a depression just because he wants to be a good father.

  She had her chance, and she fucked up. She shouldn’t get another.

  But I will step aside, and that’s what makes me sick. I will sit back and let all of that shit unfold because it’s what he wants, and I have to respect it. I love Chas too much to get in his way, even if I really, really want to.

  Oh God, and if they get back together, they’ll be … touching…

  My stomach churns again, and I have to physically fight the urge to vomit.

  As I splash the cold water on my face again to, I hope, calm down, there’s a gentle knock from behind. I stand and look at Chas through the mirror over the sink. He’s staring back sadly, and it breaks my heart.

  Quickly shutting off the water, I turn around and hug him. He hesitates briefly, but eventually hugs me back. I bury my face in his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into the crown of my head.

  “Don’t,” I whisper, shaking my head in response. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. It’s just…” He gently rubs my back when the words catch. “It’s just I finally got you back.” A lump forms in my throat. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

  He squeezes me tightly and for a moment, it’s comforting, but I know it won’t last.

  “Hey,” he coos. “You’ll never lose me. Okay?”

  I nod as best I can, but it’s halfhearted. We both know anything involving Macy is a slippery slope.

  The rest of the night progresses with a heavy cloud hanging over all of us. Chas fills me and Spence in on his plan, and neither of us like it, but we’re not surprised. He’s going to be staying with Macy and his girls until the results of the DNA test come back. It’ll take a couple weeks, but in the meantime, he’ll be spending time with his daughters.

  He swears to me he’ll never touch Macy, and I believe him. He tries to make it clear that he’s only getting back with her for the kids, that he has no intention of revisiting their relationship, and again, I believe him. But, the problem comes with having to be around her at all. While some of my stress is lifted knowing he has no plans of having sex with Macy, so much remains because I know how toxic she is.

  I don’t know why he feels the need to move out given he doesn’t intend to rekindle their relationship, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Macy threatened him. Knowing her, she probably told him she’d make sure he never saw the girls again if he didn’t come back because that’s the kind of woman she is. And given he refused to elaborate on why he was leaving, I was fairly certain that’s the reason.

  I hate that she has any control over Chas. If he said the word, she could be disappeared and never bother him again, but I know he won’t do it. Chas would never take Amy and Teresa’s mom away from them, no matter how horrible she is.

  One day. I had one day with Chas after he got out of prison. That’s it, and it’s nowhere near enough.

  He packs the few possessions he has and sets them by the door. My eyes are welling with tears because I feel like he’s about to walk out of my life forever, even though I know he isn’t. I’ll still see him—and probably everyday—but he won’t be the same.

  Chas reaches forward and threads his fingers through my hair, cradling the back of my head as he pulls me close. My eyes drift shut as he presses his forehead to mine. I can’t imagine the extreme angle feels good for him since he’s so much taller than I am, but I appreciate the sentiment behind it.

  “I gotta to do this,” he says softly.

  I nod. “I know.”

  He dips forward and kisses me sweetly. I can feel the sadness lingering within the action, but honestly can’t tell if it’s his, or mine.

  The kiss lasts only a moment, and when we draw back, he hugs me tightly. I don’t know how long passes, but eventually we part once again. Spence steps forward and hugs Chas, too, patting his back sharply as though it’d give his brother the strength for what is to come.

  When Spencer rejoins my side, Chas picks up his bag, gives us both a short nod, and disappears through my front door. It feels like we’re sending him off to war, like there’s a chance he may be killed in the line of duty. Honestly, it kind of feels like that. Our dread comes from having witnessed this before.

  What I saw before I left was bad enough, but Spencer got to see more of it. He spent years watching Macy suck the life out of his best friend, and it’s his anxiety that worries me even more.

  But what can we do? Tell Chas to leave her? He won’t. Chas has such a deep, resounding need for family that he’d never walk away if there’s a chance this boy can be his. And if the kid is, Chas will jump through any and every hoop Macy lays before him because he’s done it for the girls.

  The best we can do now is wait.

  Chapter Four

  It’s been a week since Chas left the house, and I still feel it. I didn’t think the ache of it would fade within a few days, but it still feels like it did the night he told us he was leaving. And I’ve barely talked to him, that’s the part that hurts the most.

  I expected Chas to jump back into club business as quickly as he could because it was all he knew—and his life—but whenever I called him to see how he was doing, or ask if the results were in yet, he was either brusque, or just didn’t answer. He’s never done that before. When I asked Spence why, he was able to explain away whenever they were in a meeting or something, but he had no excuse for when he knew Chas was back at Macy’s house. Chas was avoiding me, and that shit wasn’t going to fly.

  To talk to Chas, I knew I’d practically have to corner him, so I drove to the bar after talking to Spencer. Apparently, Chas is working in the mechanic’s shop today.

  Good.

  After parking my car in a spot that’s become mine over the last few months, I walk through the massive metal gate that’s usually locked when the mechanic’s shop is closed. A handful of members are scattered around working on different cars or bikes, all wearing their shop uniforms instead of their Devils’ attire. This is their legitimate job, alongside the repo yard, and they’re dressed appropriately, especially since this is one of the ways the club hides their illegal gains.

  My eyes dance around the open
bays, searching for the giant I know is somewhere inside. It takes me a second, but I eventually spot his massive frame hunched over the wheel well of a car. His top half is inside the hood. He’s probably toiling away with something in there, maybe changing a filter, or checking the oil. I don’t care. I need to talk to him.

  “Chas,” I say when I reach his side.

  I notice him twitch, but he keeps working for a moment longer before drawing back and standing.

  “Yeah?” he asks, far too casually for my liking. I glare in response. He glances away, doing his best to look as though he isn’t bothered by my obvious anger, but I can see otherwise.

  “The fuck, Chas?” I ask bluntly. “Are you avoiding me?”

  “No,” he says plainly.

  My head’s spinning, and not in a good way. He’s being deliberately glib, and that’s not his personality.

  “Really?” I shoot back. “Because it seems like that.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Mikey,” he says. “I’ve just been busy.”

  My eyes dance over him. This isn’t right. This isn’t how Chas is. Yes, I was gone for a while, but even I know this is wrong.

  I take a step back and shake my head. A pit is growing in my chest, and hesitantly I meet his gaze again.

  “What’s she doing to you?” In a week, it’s like his entire personality has suddenly shifted, and I know it’s Macy’s doing.

  “Nothing, okay?” he says so sharply I jump. When he sees my shock at his outburst, he sighs and shakes his head. “Look, I have to get back to work. Just … go home.”

  My brows tug together as the pit in my chest becomes heavier. He’s brushing me off, pushing me away like I’m just some chick who hangs around the club. My eyes are starting to prickle with coming tears. His indifference hurts, and I can’t keep the feelings hidden.