Ace (Syns of Desert Angels MC Book 1)

by L. M. Reign

  “You’re so weird when you’re sappy.”

  “Shut up and listen. Seriously, I want you to be happy. I want you to let go of all that baggage you’re carrying around.

  If you don’t think you deserve happiness, you at least deserve to be burden-free. Tell him what happened after he left. And I mean everything, from start to finish. The baby, inauguration, training. Fucking. Everything.

  Make him understand why you’re hesitant to be with him. It’ll put some shit into perspective for him. I mean, it would for me if my ex was telling me this shit.

  But seriously, Mi. If I had a second chance with Stel, no matter how much shit we had to work through, I’d kill for it.”

  “I hate it when you make sense,” I shove him. “You’re right,” I say, more to myself.

  Milo was always the tangible thing I needed to latch onto. The one to pull me back.

  He’s right. I needed to deal with my demons and there was only one way I could do that.

  “You deserve happiness, too,” I tell him.

  “I had it,” he says sadly, remembering Stella.

  I hug him, sending a silent prayer to mama to guide him to someone who will redefine his definition and ability to love.

  Chapter 17

  Cole

  “Pick up some cornbread mix for me, will ya? Put that down!” Ma’s shrill voice burst through the phone as she ordered the club whores around.

  “Jesus, Ma!” I peel the phone away from my ear.

  “Sorry, baby. Just pick that up for me, please? These dumb bitches don’t know how to handle fine china. Love you.”

  “Alright, Ma. I’ll pick it up. See you soon.” Killing the call, I take one last look back at the clubhouse, desperately willing Mila to walk through those doors.

  Ever since the phone call last night, Mila hasn’t responded to any of my texts or voicemails. I have half a mind to have Rook track her damn phone, but I need to be rebuilding her trust. Not give her any more reasons to run away.

  “She ain’t there, man,” a gruff voice startles me.

  “I know,” I say, shaking my head at Diesel.

  “If she’s worth it... keep doin’ what you’re doin’.”

  “She is.”

  “Good,” he responds, straddling his bike.

  “When you gonna get a woman?”

  A broad smile breaks over his face. “Who says I don’t have one?’

  “No shit?” I laugh. “You been holdin’ out on us, D.”

  The man just shrugged his burly shoulders, not bothering to hide his smile while starting his bike.

  “See you,” he says, peeling off.

  _____________________

  I arrived just in time to see Ma kick all the club whores to the curb before running back inside to set up the table.

  “Bring that cornbread in here, Cole,” she started ordering me around the second I walked in.

  I watch her run around the kitchen, collecting ingredients in a mixing bowl before stopping in front of me. “You better behave yourself tonight, you hear me?” Her thinly veiled threat made me suspicious.

  “Why?”

  “That girl’s comin’ and I don’t want you upsetting her.”

  Her.

  “I doubt it, Ma.”

  A dark look overcame her features and she slammed the mixing bowl on the counter. “What did you do?” Her accusatory tone left me feeling hopeless.

  Rubbing the back of my neck, I shrugged. “I may have said some shit that I di-”

  “She didn’t deserve that!” Ma rushed to her defense.

  “You didn’t let me finish!”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’ve done some stuff to that girl and she didn’t deserve a lick of it.”

  “She didn’t,” I readily agree.

  Ma was right. All the shit I’ve done to Mila. She didn’t deserve the pain I’ve inflicted on her.

  “Go settle in with the guys in the livin’ room. And tell Rook,” she says loudly, “if I catch him touchin’ that damn ham one more damn time, I’ll cut his fingers off.”

  “Roger that, Ma!” Rook’s voice carried from the dining room. Ma just smiled, shaking her head before shooing me away.

  Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I head to where the men have been banished and settle into the couch beside Brass and Dice. Bodi and Gibbs were laid back in separate recliners. Fiona was nestled comfortably on Gibbs’ lap. Dimebag and his girl Rita were settled into the loveseat across from us while Diesel, Rig, and Rook took up residence on the floor.

  A motorcycle documentary captured our attention and we’re so focused on the complexity of the Indian Chief that I almost miss Ma announcing its time to eat.

  Filing into the kitchen, we start grabbing food, piling our plates high with the spread Ma managed to wrangle together.

  Briar showed up with a dessert and Ma shooed her in front of Rook to get her food.

  “That’s cheatin’!” Rook yelled at her.

  “Ma likes me best,” Briar smirks.

  “Move, woman,” Diesel growls at her.

  “Rude,” she huffs, moving along.

  “Let’s say grace,” Ma tells us once we’ve settled at the table.

  “I’m starvin’, damnit,” Bodi huffs.

  “Got room for four more?” A sweet voice draws our attention to the four bodies crowding the doorway. Ness being at the front, beams at Brass, holding up a covered dish as an offering. Paying dues to sit at our table when they aren’t required.

  “Absolutely,” Ma beamed, getting up from her spot to grab more place settings.

  They follow Ma into the kitchen, and I keep my eyes glued to her. From her flannel shirt to her black pants, she looks absolutely succulent. She averts her gaze, keeping her spine straight and her head high. Not one trace of the sadness that I caught a glimpse of last night was present.

  “You boys make room for the four of them,” Ma snaps me out of my reverie.

  We start restructuring the table order, pushing Briar and Diesel together while Brass and I make sure there’s room for extra people on our side.

  I want to be juvenile and slap my hand on the seat beside me to reserve it for Mila but decided against it.

  They return quickly, Mila being the last out of the kitchen. The only spots open are those beside me and Brass. She moves to sit on the furthest end while Milo slides in next to me, giving me a hefty glare for staring at her so openly.

  Fuck.

  “Let’s say the blessin’,” Ma tells us, holding out her hands. We oblige until we’re all connected, and I’m pissed I’m not holding Mila’s hand.

  “Lord,” she starts, “thank you for lettin’ us gather everyone together tonight. Bless this food we are about to receive and wrap your arms around everyone here. Guide them with love and patience while keepin’ them safe. Amen.”

  _____________________

  Mila

  “Amen,” I say softly, keeping my tears at bay. While I’m grateful Bloom graciously included us in these plans, I’m saddened because I don’t have this with my own family. I can’t even remember the last time we had a family dinner where dad was with us.

  Between our jobs and schedules, we don’t even bother to try to be in sync. Those big family dinners that I crave so much slowly dwindled down to just the four of us making small meals together. Or celebrating with Ness and Dash’s families.

  How did we get here?

  I look around the table and see the love and laughter flowing freely from this little family of choice, noting Diesel and Briar keep sneaking glances when they think no one is looking.

  Rook is larger than life, telling his latest story making everyone laugh.

  Brass and Ness aren’t exactly subtle about touching each other under the table.

  Rig and Dice are engaged in a heated exchange about motorcycles.

  Gibbs and his wife, Fiona share those adorable lifetime love glances while Dimebag and Rita are seemingly ambivalent towards each other.

 
I can’t bring myself to look at Cole, so I skip him, landing on the man at the head of the table.

  Bodi is... enigmatic with a perpetual sneer on his face. And Bloom just looks on lovingly, seemingly thankful that everyone is here.

  A groan emanates from Rook at the end of the table, drawing our attention to him. “God, Ma. This is so good. It’s like the inside of my body is huggin’ the outside of my body.” Laughter fills the air and I focus on my food.

  Milo touches my knee, turning his hand upwards. I link our fingers together and give him a squeeze. Silently thanking him for being there before I knew I needed him to be.

  “I’m full,” Bodi announced, patting his belly. “We got dessert?”

  “We do. Let me go set that out,” Bloom stands, gathering the plates.

  “I’ll help,” I tell her, collecting as many plates as I can and following her into the kitchen.

  I needed her help to set me on the path of confronting my demons.

  You deserve this. You deserve happiness.

  Set yourself free.

  “You didn’t have to, darlin’. Thank you,” she tells me over her shoulder.

  “It’s fine. I... actually need something from you,” I tell her in a low voice, not wanting anyone else to hear.

  Spinning around, she takes the plates from my hands and sets them on the counter. “What is it?”

  Taking a deep breath, I rush out, “I want to see the picture.”

  Bloom’s face morphs with a sad smile while grabbing my hand and patting it softly. Her gentle and affectionate gesture almost makes me cry.

  Don’t.

  I push past the lump in my throat and nod my head.

  “I’m so glad you do. Let me get this dessert out to the fellas, and I’ll get it for you. Wait here.”

  She busies herself, cutting slices of pie and haphazardly slinging them onto plates, rushing them out two-by-two until every person out there has a piece.

  “Do y’all need anything else?”

  A chorus of No’s fill the air, and Bloom instructs them to holler if they do, that she and I will be washing dishes.

  “I’ll be right back,” she tells me, disappearing into another room.

  I lean against the counter and find myself clutching my stomach. After the abortion, I’d never felt so empty in my life. I had ripped away the one thing that I could’ve poured my future into only to end up here.

  Alone.

  “I used to do that,” Bloom startled me, gesturing to my stomach. She smiled, clutching an envelope to her chest.

  “When I found out I was pregnant with Cole, Bodi wanted me to get rid of it so we could still live life on our terms. Back then, that meant sex, drugs, and booze. I refused.

  We fought so much about it. That was the beginnin’ of our end because I wanted those sleepless nights. I craved the sound of little feet runnin’ down the hallway, and sleepin’ in bed with my mini-me cuddled beside me.

  Then things went off track and I couldn’t protect the little boy that I’d carried for nine months. He became a better man because of you and your family. I meant it when I thanked you for lovin’ him. He needed to know how that felt so he could recognize it. Cherish it,” she tells me, wiping away some tears.

  “I’m ramblin’. Here,” she holds out a tattered, yellowed envelope.

  I stare at it for a second before taking it. The vellum was thick and worn like she’d opened it so many times in the last few years.

  My breath caught in my throat when I flipped it over to the familiar scrawl of mama’s handwriting. Just one word and I want to give it back. To continue to carry this guilt around rather than face this demon that kept provoking me.

  I trace mama’s handwriting. The careful indent over the lone word urges me to run away because I don’t feel worthy of it.

  Love.

  “You can do it,” she encourages me softly.

  Nodding, I flip the fold and pull the grainy black and white picture from inside. It’s old and tatted, and I can’t tell what I’m looking at until Bloom sidles up beside me. Pointing at all the parts.

  “That’s the left leg and that’s the right arm.”

  I stare at the picture in awe and cover my mouth. “I can’t believe that... was inside me. Oh my God,” I laugh sadly. Tears begin to fall, and I can’t wipe them away fast enough.

  “That little bean was inside you, sweetie,” Bloom hugged me. “Your mama was worried you’d carry around this guilt, and I can tell you have. Please don’t. You made a decision on your own and I’m proud of you for that.”

  Bloom’s support left me stunned and speechless. I thought she’d be angry and upset that I didn’t carry her grandchild.

  I turn my attention back to the picture of... my baby. Slowly, I trace the little outline.

  So tiny.

  I touch my stomach with a smile, almost willing this little bean to be back inside me where I could keep him safe and sound.

  “What’s that?” Cole’s rough voice startles us. We were so caught up that we didn’t realize he came into the room.

  _____________________

  Cole

  Rounding the corner, I walk into the kitchen to Ma and Mila huddled together, staring at a picture. The light reflecting on it makes it almost transparent and I freeze. Mila has her hand on her stomach, and a smile on her face.

  “What’s that?” I break the silence in the room. Mila’s face turns pale, quickly hiding the image behind her. “Is that... a baby gram thing?”

  Mila opens and closes her mouth several times before settling into a hard line. Her inability to form words spurred me forward and I held my hand out for the picture.

  “Give it to me.”

  Her features washed in fear as she takes a deep breath, holding it out to me with a shaky hand.

  I scan the image quickly, settling on Mila’s name and birthday at the top. Excitement flutters through me. The idea of having a lasting connection to the woman – my woman – has awakened my inner beast.

  Mila Rogers... pregnant with my baby.

  I can’t hide my smile when I stare into her tearful eyes. I know she’s probably worried about how we left things.

  “I’m an asshole and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ it up to you, but... are you pregnant with my baby?”

  “I’ll give you two some time,” Ma says quietly, leaving the room in a hurry.

  “Answer me, Mila. Are you carryin’ my baby?”

  Emotional roulette played out on her face before settling on sadness... and pity.

  “Cole,” she shook her head softly, rubbing her hands together. She only did that when she was nervous. “Look at the date.”

  I scan the picture again, looking in the right-hand corner. The white numbers stared back at me, glaringly devilish. Almost like they were laughing at me. Mocking me for being so stupid. For getting my hopes up.

  Five years ago.

  I couldn’t control the tidal wave of anger and violence that burst through. Those numbers broke me.

  “What the fuck is this?” I throw the picture at her. She clutches it against her chest before putting it on the counter beside her. “Where the fuck is my child?”

  “Cole,” she started, her voice stern.

  “Think real hard about your next words, Mila,” I threaten her.

  “I had an abortion.”

  “You fuckin’ didn’t,” I snarl, crowding her against the counter. Straightening her spine, she met my eyes. “Tell me you didn’t kill my baby.” My voice was close to breaking.

  Seemed fitting because that’s what I just became. A broken man.

  Mila Rogers has finally accomplished a feat.

  She broke me.

  Her first words only riled me into a frenzy. “You left me.”

  “So what? This your way of gettin’ revenge?!” I roar. “You’re fuckin’ sick, Mila.”

  “Hey!” Milo called from the crowd that’s gathered at the doorway, moving to stand beside her.

/>   I step back, unable to control my breathing. “Don’t do this here, man,” he tells me in a low voice. “You’ve got an audience and I think you two need to discuss this alone.”

  “Mind your own fuckin’ business. This is between me and her.”

  “Fuck you. You weren’t there when you broke her,” he accentuated the last few words with pokes to my chest. “You don’t get to talk to her like that. Mi,” he turns to face her. “We can leave. Just say the word.”

  “She’s not goin’ anywhere,” I growl. “She’s not runnin’ this time. We’re fuckin’ talkin’. Here or anywhere fuckin’ else. We’re doin’ this shit. Tonight.”

  Milo ignored me, his focus on his sister. She gave him a soft shake of her head.

  “I’ll be fine. Go.”

  Keeping my eyes on the doorway, I wait until everyone’s cleared out. Taking the time to compose myself before addressing her. My eyes started to burn as I digested the news.

  I had an abortion. You left me.

  “This wasn’t my way of revenge,” she croaked, drawing my attention to her.

  She wrapped her arms around her body like a protective shield, the same emotions reflecting on her face.

  I wanted so badly to wipe away her tears, but she was the reason I was struggling with my own.

  “You left. And I waited. God,” she sniffles, staring at the ceiling. “I fucking waited for you. You never came. And I already had my inauguration. I had to go to training. It was the next step for me. I couldn’t... keep him if I was going to do that.”

  “It was a boy?”

  She closes her eyes, her chest heaving with heavy breaths. “I don’t know. I assumed it was a boy. At least, that’s what I keep picturing.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Is this why you don’t wanna discuss the past? Why you won’t let me explain? Because then you’d have to own your fuck ups, too?”

  “How could I tell you? You cut us off. Stopped responding to text messages and phone calls. Eventually, I was even lucky to get your voicemail. I tried to tell you, Cole. And then I made a decision.”