HIS VIRGIN VESSEL: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (War Cry MC)

by Nicole Fox

  "Dad, I know something's going on with Asa. I need you to tell me what it is. Have his doctors told you something?"

  "No. Nothing like that." Dad instantly reassured my worst fears. "He'll make a full recovery. Tough son of a bitch."

  "Then what? Don't tell me it's nothing."

  Dad met my gaze. "The charges against him aren't being dropped. He'll stand trial as soon as he's well enough."

  I just gaped. "But, didn't you make a deal with him?"

  Dad shook his head. "Everything he did was voluntary. He knew that this was a risk."

  Of course he had. Asa would never have stood for a deal, even if it was just for show. The idea that he would only have come to my rescue if the charges were dropped would have sickened him.

  "You've got to be able to do something!"

  "I've tried."

  "Try harder!"

  "Corinne..." Dad reached out and took my hand. "I have tried. But everyone I speak to knows what Asa did for me. They all think I owe him. Ironically, they all think that there was a deal. Like an unofficial one, under the table. My word holds absolutely no weight where Asa is concerned. Which is right. That's how it should be. The justice system has to be fair for all, or it's fair for none. And I am biased in this."

  "You can't be serious." Anger was now replacing dismay in my body, hotly burning through me. "After all he did for you! I thought you stood by the men who helped you!"

  "Which is why I went to bat for him as hard as I did," Dad said. "And it goes against the grain to let him down, but..." Dad rubbed his head in frustration. "All those bogus, trumped up charges that Quint and Hamlin were trying to pin to Asa - those are all gone now. They've all been pinned to Rassi, as deserved, and he's dead, so that's the end of that. What Asa is accused of, and I've been through it all line by line, is what he did. He is guilty of this stuff. And while you may think that he's exonerated himself by helping us, there's a bunch of people out there affected by his crimes, who've not had any recompense. It's up to the state to deliver that. I've spoken to Asa and, to his credit, he's not trying to weasel out of this. He committed the crimes, and he's willing to do the time."

  "I'd be dead if it wasn't for him." I could see how my words affected my Dad, twisting his face. Just the suggestion hurt him.

  "And I'll never be able to repay him for that."

  "Yes, you can!" You can fix this!"

  But Dad shook his head. "I can't. And I'm not sure I should, if I could."

  There was so much I wanted to say to him, so much I wanted to throw in his face. But there was stuff there that I would not be able to take back. I got up and walked away from the table.

  "Where are you going?" Dad asked.

  "I'm going to visit Asa."

  "I'm sorry, Corinne."

  "What?!" I turned back around sharply. "Are you forbidding me from seeing him? Because we both know how well that works."

  "Now that he's no longer in immediate danger, he's been moved to a prison hospital."

  I blanched. When was I going to get to see him again? "When are visiting hours?"

  "I'm sorry, Corinne."

  "What?!"

  Dad stood up. "I think this is for the best. There's no telling for how long Asa's going to be gone, and I don't want you to waste your life pining away for him."

  "I love him!"

  "I know," Dad said sincerely. "I do know that. And I know this must be incredibly difficult, but please try to see this from my point of view. I came so close to losing you, all because of him, because you were close to him and became a part of his world. Maybe, if he wasn't going to prison, Asa would be able to walk away from that. Maybe. I don't know. But people in jail for any length of time do what they can to survive. They make friends, and they make enemies. And those enemies have friends on the outside. If you stay connected to Asa, then you're going to wind up in danger again."

  "I don't care!" I practically shrieked. I thought that dad and I had put all this stuff behind us, but here we were again, at each other's throats, and I didn't know how to fix it.

  "But I do."

  "You can't stop me from seeing him."

  "Asa won't see you."

  I saw in his eyes that he was telling the truth. "You spoke to him."

  Dad nodded. "I told him what I just told you. He knew that I was right."

  I stormed out.

  # # #

  In a strange way, the immediate threat of the mafia had held War Cry together in the absence of their president. But now that threat had been neutralized, and with Asa looking at serious jail time, there was no longer anything to keep the group together, or anyone with the force of character necessary to lead it.

  "Did you never think about leading?" I asked Fiona, as we watched Joseph Hartman carrying boxes of my stuff from my car.

  "Me?" Fiona shook her head and laughed. "I was a biker groupie. Just liked the idea of the danger, I guess. It's easy to get addicted to that. But the gang itself? Don't tell Asa or Joseph that I said it, but I think there's something a bit childish about it. We're all grown-ups, for goodness sake. There are better ways to solve your problems."

  It would have been too much to say that Fiona and I had become friends in the wake of all that had happened, but she understood me very well and was willing to help. When I had told her that I needed somewhere to stay, she had volunteered an empty room above her bar. It would do for now. I'd find something more permanent later. Right now, I just needed to not be living in the same house as Brian Dugas. I had hoped we were past all that, but his attitude toward Asa had doomed the burgeoning reconciliation.

  "I think that's the last of it," Risa said, coming down from my new apartment and dusting off her hands.

  Fiona shook her head. "I can't believe you let her just stand here while you did all the work. My sister wouldn't do that for me."

  Risa just grinned. "Cor has always been the baby of the family. I guess I'm used to spoiling her."

  Of course, the real reason that Risa had insisted I do nothing while she and Joseph did all the heavy lifting was that she knew I was pregnant. She was the only one, with the possible exception of Asa, whom I had told in hospital. I wasn’t sure if he had heard. Probably not. Of course, if I had told him, or my Dad for that matter, then maybe things would have been different, but I didn't want Asa to be with me because I was pregnant, or for Dad to accept Asa because he had gotten me pregnant. This baby wasn't going to be a pawn in a strategic game of chess, and I certainly didn't want to use it as a means of trapping a man.

  At that point, I was almost as pissed at Asa as I was at Dad. He refused to let me visit, turning down my applications even after his trial. Did he think he was doing what was best for me? Perhaps. But I was twenty-three years old and about to become a mother. I didn't need a father or a partner to decide what was best for me. I could make my own damn decisions.

  "It's like everything is falling apart," Risa said sadly, hugging me. Finding out that she was becoming an aunt had made Risa over-protective and a bit emotional.

  "It is a bit," I admitted. I didn't think that War Cry disbanding would affect me that much, but, symbolically, it seemed a huge deal. They were no longer such a necessity in the area with Rassi's gang gone, but there were always others about trying to prey on the disadvantaged. It was only a matter of time before one of them stepped up to fill the void, and then the absence would be felt. "I guess things have to fall apart so they can come back together."

  Risa half-smiled. "Look who got smart just in time to pass it on."

  "Oh, she'll be relying on her aunt for wisdom I can assure you."

  "You think it's a she?"

  I did, actually. I didn't want to know, but I had been calling it 'she' from day one. Did that mean anything? Probably not.

  "She deserves to know her granddad, too," Risa said, tentatively.

  "So he can explain to her why she never got to know her father?" I asked.

  "Is that any life for a baby?" Risa asked. "Seein
g Daddy on visiting days."

  "Better than not having a Daddy at all," I retorted, without thinking.

  "Exactly," Risa said, a little smugly.

  "Do you agree with him?" I tried not to ask angrily. I really wanted to know what my sister thought.

  Risa sighed. "It's a shit situation, Cor. Nobody wins in this. It's never going to be how it ought to have been. What I do know is that the shoot-out at the warehouse tore him apart. I don't think he's been the same man since. Don't confuse his objections to Asa, now, with his objections to Asa before. Way back when all this started, he didn't like Asa. Now, I think he'd get down on his knees and kiss Asa's feet for what he did that day. But he knows the risk Asa poses to you, and he can't bear the thought of you being in that situation again. It's not about Asa. It's about you."

  "But it's my decision."

  Risa shrugged. "Yeah, it probably is. But come back to me in a few years when that little thing inside you has done a bit of growing, and tell me if there is anything you wouldn't do to keep her safe, even if that meant her hating you."

  Risa has an irritating habit of saying things that make me see other people's point of view.

  "I can't live in a bubble," I muttered, kicking at the dirt.

  "He knows that. But if wishing made it so."

  "I don't want things between me and Dad to get as bad as they were before."

  "He doesn't either."

  "Then why does he have to be so damn stubborn?"

  Risa rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's all him. Thank God you didn't inherit that."

  "He could have stood up for Asa," I insisted. "That might have made a difference. Now he's in jail for who knows how long, and there's nothing anyone can do about it, and, I swear, Dad is actually pleased!"

  "I wouldn't say pleased."

  "What would you say?"

  Risa hedged. Perhaps 'pleased' was the wrong word. Dad didn't like the way that things had worked out for Asa, especially after he had saved me. On the other hand, having Asa out of my life was exactly what he had wanted. It was the only way he felt secure in my safety. 'Satisfied' was perhaps the word. That was one of the reasons I had moved to live above Fiona's bar, a place that was as spiritually close to Asa as I could get. I was tying myself to his life, even as my Dad forced a wedge between us. In a way, I suppose, I might have been putting myself in danger again, but I didn't see it that way.

  Joseph Hartman came out of the side door of the bar that led up to my new apartment. "I've tidied up a bit for you. Fiona said to give you the key."

  Joseph had to be the most amiable outlaw biker I had ever met. He really didn't seem cut out for this life, although he apparently had a temper on him. He was always respectful, courteous, deferential to women, and as well-spoken as you could want. There was probably a big story behind Joseph Hartman, and I planned to learn about it one of these days.

  "Thanks for your help," I said.

  Joseph shrugged off my thanks. "Asa asked me to look out for you any way I could."

  That was one reason I didn't feel that my staying in touch with Asa's world put me in danger. Maybe there were people out there with a grudge against him, but there seemed to be far more who liked and respected him. The residual goodwill for Asa that hung around, even once he was behind bars, was considerable. A friend of Asa's was never short of a whole bunch of other friends. I guess dad must have understood that, but he didn't like situations that he couldn't control, involving people whom he didn't know. He wanted to keep me in the house with the same people (preferably just him and Risa) forever. That was his definition of safety. I couldn't help thinking that it sounded very similar to the sort of 'safety' in which Asa was currently incarcerated.

  "Not sure if this was specifically what he had in mind when he said to look after you," admitted Joseph, "but I guess it's a start."

  "Have you seen him?" I asked. If I couldn't see Asa myself, then talking to someone who had seen him was the next best thing, which just went to show how desperate I was.

  "Not recently," replied Joseph. "But I know what he wants."

  "You miss him, don't you?" Risa asked. She was good at picking up on the feelings of others.

  "Yeah," Joseph admitted. It was not the sort of thing he could have said to any of his old War Cry comrades, but he felt safe enough admitting it to two girls. "Still, I haven't given up hope."

  "Really?" I couldn't help wondering if he had any cause for that, something that might have given me hope too.

  "Yeah. You can't give up, can you?"

  "Did Asa tell you that?" I pressed. "Last time you saw him."

  Joseph Hartman shook his head. "No, but, I mean, it's Asa. I don't need him to tell me what to do. He's already told me and shown me. I know what he would want. And I know he wouldn't want me to just roll over and give up, because he would never do that himself. That's why I'm still here."

  The words resonated with me. They might not have been perfectly expressed, but the point they made was crystal clear, as far as I was concerned.

  "Anyway," Joseph Hartman concluded, "That's what keeps me going. That's why I don't give up."

  He strolled off.

  "What?" Risa asked, looking at me.

  "What?"

  "You've got that look on your face."

  "What look? What face?"

  "You're planning something."

  "I am realizing something," I said in stout defiance.

  "No. You were realizing something. Now, you're planning something. I've known you all your life, Cor, and I know which face means what. What are you thinking?"

  I was thinking that I had been desperate to see Asa, to talk to him, to have him tell me what to do, when I already knew what he would say. Asa's message to me had been the same since day one, and, little as I had often wanted to hear it, I knew exactly what it was. Asa had told me to re-forge my relationship with my Dad. That didn't necessarily mean that I was wrong to move out. A lot of people get on a whole lot better with their parents once they are no longer living under the same roof. But cutting Dad out, altogether? That, I knew, Asa would disapprove of. Dad was trying to protect me and do what was best for me, and, even if he was going about it in a patronizing and dictatorial fashion, I still had to accept that he had my best interests at heart. Cutting myself off from him was not the answer. That was what Asa would tell me. He would tell me to talk to Dad. And he was right.

  I had spent so much of my adult life rebelling against my father and automatically doing the opposite of what he said, simply because he had said it. And where had that gotten us? Where had that gotten me? It had come close to destroying the most important relationship in my life. The only thing that had pulled us back from the brink had been Asa. Then he had gone to prison, and, suddenly, we were at the brink again. Even Dad would have had to admit that Asa had been a major influence for good in our family. What had made the difference was talking, rather than shouting, and addressing our issues head on, rather than running away from them. If I talked to Dad, now, I was sure I could make him understand how I felt about Asa and how important it was to have him in my life, even if it was as a distant figure, whom I only saw on visiting day. I could understand why he didn't want his daughter to be in love with a man she saw so irregularly. That seemed a recipe for misery, but it was nothing to the misery of losing Asa completely.

  And the baby? Well, I still wasn't quite ready to play that card. Partly because, once again, I didn't want my child to be a bargaining chip in this game I was playing with Dad. But also, because I genuinely wasn't sure in what direction it would influence Dad. On the one hand, he might go all traditional and insist that the baby deserved its real father, convict or not. That would be great! But, on the other hand, it seemed equally likely that his protective instincts would redouble, as he was now a protective-grandfather, as well as a father. That would just lead to an increase in his objections to my seeing Asa, being in any way connected with his world, or moving out.

  # # #

>   "You're back!" There was no hiding the relief in Dad's voice when I walked in that afternoon.

  "Not to stay. All my stuff is already moved in."

  "I'm not happy with my daughter living above a bar."

  "You're not happy with me living anywhere other than here," I pointed out.

  "What's wrong with here? It's safe."

  "I can look after myself."

  My dad rolled his eyes. "Have you suffered short-term memory loss? Do you perhaps recall how very not safe you have been, of late? You need me to look after you. Perhaps in a few years, when the heat has died down a bit..."

  "A few years?!"