“You better not be fucking lying to me bitch. I find out there’s something wrong with my kid, and you kept that from me like you were going to keep me from it, and I’ll fucking end you.” I could feel his hate through the phone line, it sent shivers up and down my spine, and caused tears to well at the back of my eyes.
Replying softly, so as not to make him any angrier I said,
“Y-yes, I understand.”
Barking out a sardonic laugh Reaper added,
“Aww, don’t play the pity card now Adelyn, that times long past. There’s not a person alive that has an ounce of sympathy for a bitch that steals a man’s kid, and you’re bullshit tears and fucked up past doesn’t count for anything now, so you can cut the shit, stop the fake crying and grow up. Make sure you tell Trig if there’s a problem, he’ll let me know and I’ll decide what’s best for my kid. You just be a good incubator and make sure you don’t fuck this up like you fuck everything else up, yeah?”
He doesn’t let me answer, I don’t know what I would’ve said if I had because he hangs up before I can. Handing the phone back to Trig with a slight nod I go back inside, close and lock the door, climb into bed and let the numbness claim me. Resting my hands over my slightly distended abdomen I promise our baby everything will be okay.
“I promise you he’s nothing like what he seems. Underneath he’s a good man. He’ll be wonderful with you, so will your uncles, your aunts, and your brother. You have so many people that love you already, which means you have everything you’ll ever need.
I let a single tear fall, but that’s all I’ll concede to. I have to be strong, if not on the outside, at least on the inside for her. For Bailey.
CHAPTER TEN
Trig
“A man’s worth is measured in the way he treats his woman.”
- Anonymous
He might be my brother, but I’ve never wanted to hurt someone the way I wanted to hurt Reaper when I saw the aftermath of their phone call a week ago. It couldn’t even really be considered a phone call, more a one sided rant filled with threats and hate. I’ve never had a great hold on my temper, and I can assure you it took everything in me not to get on my bike the second Adelyn closed the door, and beat the ever-loving fuck out of him for what he’d said.
He’s got no idea how strong she is, he doesn’t fucking deserve to know. Adelyn London is the strongest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Albeit I haven’t really talked to her, spent time with her in a way that isn’t akin to stalking her, I don’t need to. I can see the way her back straightens slightly before she hunches in on herself protectively when people hurl insults and filthy looks at her. I watch the way she speaks to her baby, because it is hers no matter what that motherfucker Reaper says, when she thinks she alone. I hear the sweet sound of her voice, the concern she has for others, the way she protects the bastard when she talks to Diesel’s mom Emily, Boss, or Diesel himself on the phone weekly. Most of all I can sense how strong she is every time she brings me dinner, which is every single night now. She’s scared shitless of me, well not me, that I’ll tell Reaper she’s doing it, yet she still does without fail, rain, hail, or shine make sure I have something hot to eat, and coffee to tied me over till morning.
I’ve wanted to thank her, tell her I appreciate the effort she goes to, that she doesn’t have to worry about it if she doesn’t feel comfortable, but I’m fucking terrified to talk to her, to open the flood gates of speech because I’ve got no fucking idea whether I’ll be able to stop at a thank you. I’ll want to tell her she can trust me, she can talk to me if she wants and I’ll take her secrets to my grave. I want her to vent to me, tell me what she’s done during her day that I haven’t been privy to. Shit, I’d be happy to listen to her recite the alphabet if it’d get her talking.
Adelyn doesn’t deserve the shit hand she’s being dealt, no woman does, but especially not her. I won’t say shit to Reaper, but last week, the day after she had her blood taken for the eighth time, once a week every week like clockwork, I paid off the lab technician for information. The little shit folded at the threat of violence, not a cent changed hands. Apparently sweet, gentle, fucking strong Adelyn is battling HELLP syndrome, alone, and scared out of her mind.
From what the technician could tell me, HELLP syndrome is a liver disorder or some shit. It means she’ll have trouble clotting if she has a bleed, her red cells are breaking down making her exhausted all the time, and her liver is out of whack. As she gets further long in this pregnancy she’s going to need extra assistance, someone to watch over her 24/7. If she get sick, like at all, it puts her at even higher risk of complications, not for the baby but for her. The baby will be fine as long as she’s far enough along to deliver it, the dude said twenty-nine weeks at the earliest, but Adelyn, she might not be as lucky.
I’d give anything to reassure her she’ll be okay, be able to promise her nothing will happen to her. That she’ll see her baby grow up, but that’s not necessarily reality. And that has me fucking torn. Part of me thinks I should go to Reaper, tell him what she’s facing, that she can’t take any more of his shit on top of what she’s already dealing with and then beat his ass for the fun of it, but she wouldn’t thank me for that. In fact Adelyn would probably try to kick my ass for getting involved, so I do the only other thing I can think of…I call Emily. Emily whose number I stole out of her phone when she left it unattended on the front passenger’s side seat of her car. Emily who might be her only real female support in the world.
Biting the bullet, and dialling I wait as the phone rings five times before she answers,
“If this is one of those damn telemarketers you can fuck right off, I’m trying to watch real housewives with a bottle of wine, and I don’t need a new vacuum cleaner.”
I stifle a laugh before clearing my throat,
“Yeah, I’m not a telemarketer, but I do have something to sell you. I’m hoping it won’t be all that difficult though.”
“Are you Devil’s Spawn, or Warriors? I don’t play games, and I’m too fucking old to waste time chatting about the weather, state your business, and then let me get back to my shows.” She’s a firecracker that’s for sure, and that makes me smile. Emily sounds like she will be the perfect candidate to inject some life back into the waning Adelyn.
“Devil’s Spawn ma’am.”
She cuts me off before I can go any further,
“Ma’am, well that’s not going to work for me Trig, the name is Emily or mom, and seeing as we don’t know each other yet Emily will work just nicely. What can I do for you son?”
I’m fucking gobsmacked. It took her seconds to work out who I was, and set me straight, I think this woman might be my hero.
“Right, ah Emily, I think it’d be good if you consider taking yourself a little vacation, say in the vicinity of Blackwater sometime in the near future.”
“Considered, and decided. I’ll be leaving in the morning, six AM son, so make sure my girl is up and dressed by nine, I’m not taking a slouch to breakfast.” I don’t know how much Adelyn has told her about the residents of Blackwater, and their feelings toward her, but I don’t have to wait long to find out. “I can hear your wheels turning boy, but you don’t have anything to worry about, I can take care of my sweet baby, and if I run into any trouble with the locals I’ll give you a heads up before I start mowing them down with my concealed semi-automatic, okay?”
Holy shit, definitely my hero.
“Ah, yeah, that’d be good. The warning that is. Do I need to request a bigger police presence in town? Maybe a riot squad or something?” I’m not altogether joking, I’ve got a feeling that by calling Emily I may just have stirred up a hornets nest. I can’t bring myself to give a fuck though, Adelyn’s worth it. She needs someone in her corner, this shit has gone on long enough.
“You’re a good boy, Trig. I was waiting to see how long it would take for someone to call me, and I placed bets that it would be you. Good to know I wasn’t wrong. But you d
on’t have to worry now, you can stand down I’ll take it from here, and you can go back to just keeping watch. Remember, up and dressed by nine, we’ve got things to do, and places to go tomorrow.”
Ringing off after saying goodbye I feel more at ease than I have in a week, longer actually. I feel more at ease than when I was first given this assignment. Maybe things are looking up. Maybe Adelyn will start getting the respect she’s owed with Emily rolling into town. I can only hope. And I do. I spend the rest of the night sitting in my old rusted pickup hoping Adelyn comes through the next few months okay. I spend time considering what the world would be like without an amazing woman like her in it. What her baby will do without her if the worst happens.
Looking up from the blank phone in my hand I see Adelyn making her way down the front stairs with a thermos in her hands. See, sweet as sugar. Tapping lightly on the window to get my attention, she takes two steps back when I unexpectedly open the door and hop out. Maybe my call with Emily gave me the confidence to finally talk to her, maybe it’s just time. Regardless I want to talk to her, no I need to talk to her.
Closing the door behind me I take the time to look her over. She hides it well, but the dark circles under her eyes give away the sleep she’s not getting. Even though Adelyn’s four months pregnant you’d never be able to tell if she were wearing something loose and flowing. Aside from the tiny rounded bump she’s sporting under the tight tank top everything about her is the same. Well, other than the fact it’s pretty fucking clear she’s lost a few pounds she didn’t have to spare in the first place. Her hair is tied together at the base of her head, as she often does when she’s at home, and her skin looks a little paler than usual too. I suppose that’s to be expected seeing as she barely leaves the house anymore.
Basically, Adelyn’s suffering is written all over her. The way her shoulders are slumped, the fatigue she battles with every step, everything about this fucking picture is wrong, and it makes me hate Reaper even more for being the cause of it.
“You doing okay today, Adelyn?” Wide eyes meet mine as she looks at me in shock. Hell, it probably is a shock. I doubt she thought I could speak until right now. “Yeah I can talk darlin’, don’t look so surprised.”
Snorting Adelyn replies,
“I would never have guessed it. You’ve been following me around for what? Three months almost? And in all that time I’ve never heard you say a word.”
“Never had much to say I suppose.” She rolls her eyes at me, and mutters something like, ‘such a man thing to say’ under her breath.
“So to what do I owe the honour of your momentary reprieve from self-imposed silence?” So much sarcasm from such a little thing.
Chuckling the look on her face I answer her.
“Only wanted to check on you, Adelyn. I know I should’ve done it long before now, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Just so you know, I think Reaper’s a fucking asshole for what he’s doing to you. You don’t deserve the shit you’re getting from him, or anyone else.”
“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re a nice guy, but I do know better, so what’s your deal? What do you want?” I don’t blame her for being sceptical, I would be too. Shit, I’d be telling me to fuck right off and not come back.
“No deal, Adelyn. No games, I promise. Seriously I just wanted to see how you’re doing, make sure you’ve got everything you need.” She still looks wary, but I can see the tight lines around her eyes soften, and her shoulders slump a little letting go of the tension she was holding on to.
“Hmmm, okay. Well in that case you can call me Ade. All my friends do, and the way I see it if you’re trying to make amends you can consider yourself a friend, until you screw it up that is.” She’s smiling now, and fuck me if that isn’t one of the most beautiful sights in the world. One that earns her a laugh in response.
“Good to know. I really am sorry, darlin’. And just so you know, I’m not going back to Reaper with everything. You and I both know if I had he’d have been over here like a shot. That might not be enough to get you to trust me, but we’ll work on that yeah?” I hope we can. I want to earn her trust. Prove to her she can talk to me, let go of some of the shit she’s got swirling around in her head.
Nodding slightly Adelyn replies quietly as she walks back towards the house.
“We’ll see, Trig. We’ll see.”
I spend the next few hours silently sitting alone in the cab of my truck hoping a change for the better is coming. Hoping that Emily kicks the ass of every man, woman, and dog that’s treated Adelyn as less than she’s worth. Less than a woman with a heart of gold.
Just as the sun crests the horizon I spend a few minutes hoping I get to see her smile again before I drift off to sleep. Just once more, that will make it all worth it. One smile from Adelyn, and I’ll happily take the ass kicking I’m due for getting involved in something that shouldn’t have been my business. But that smile will make it all the sweeter, so I can’t bring myself to care about the betrayal, not even a little bit.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Max
“Sarcasm: Just one of the many service I offer.”
- E-card
Knocking on my door wakes me up at the ass crack of dawn, well not the ass crack, but eight AM, and anyone that knows a biker knows that it might as well be. It doesn’t help that I don’t sleep for shit these days, that I drink more than I should, and I’ve fucked more than my fair share of women to try and erase the one that’s plagued me for the last four months. In particular the last three. But regardless of the amount of alcohol I consume, or the number of times I try to fuck away my memories of her, they’re all right there at the forefront of my sleep deprived brain pleading with me to beg her for forgiveness. Demanding it.
Swiping a pair of discarded sweats, and ignoring the stench of nasty perfume covering my sheets coming from the woman Ix picked up last night I stalk through the house intending to kill the motherfucker who dare to wake the bear out. It doesn’t take long to reconsider that position when I come face-to-face with a petite brunette, probably a little older than me, who is currently standing on my front porch like she owns it.
Who the fuck is she? I know for a fact she’s not a woman I’ve taken to bed, not because she isn’t hot in a I’ll-spank-you-for-being-naughty kind of way, but because my tastes lean toward women a good decade younger than me with blonde dreadlocks, a tight lithe body, and a face that still has me hard in seconds. And this woman is certainly none of that. Before I can get too caught up in trying to recall how I know her, her husky laugh washes over me.
“No we haven’t had the pleasure, or displeasure of meeting yet, so you can calm your farm Reaper. We don’t know each other, but we will. Very well by the end of my visit, or that’s what I’m expecting anyway. Now, I’ve driven a long ass way, and the least you can do is invite me in, offer me coffee, and I’ll assuage your curiosity as to who I am, and what I’m doing here.”
Direct, to the point, no nonsense, I like it.
“Right. Come through, I’ve got a feeling we’re both going to need a pot and a seat, yeah?”
“Clever boy. That we most assuredly will, but I’ve only got forty-five minutes, and the smell of skank isn’t to my taste, so I’ll be out of your hair after a cup and a chat.”
Chuckling I make my way into the kitchen with her close on my heals I start the coffee brewing, gesturing to the dining table and say,
“Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable. How do you take it?”
“Black. Enough time spent around men that don’t restock essentials like sugar and cream will have you drinking it as natural as it comes,” she replies.
A hint, maybe. A warning, probably. Not that I needed a heads up this woman means business. The way she carries herself, the air of confidence, her sure stride is enough to clue me into that. Setting the steaming mugs in front of us I pull up my own seat at the head of the table, and eye her carefully.
She’s put together in
a natural kind of way. Her hair shows no grey, it’s styled to suit her age and the shape of her face. Her clothes are good quality, but designed for long-term wear and tear, and her face is free of makeup.
“You can stop trying to work me out like I’m a puzzle for you to solve, Reaper. I’m not here to play games, and I definitely have no intention of hiding who I am, or why I’m here for that matter.” Taking a sip of coffee, blowing lightly across the rim she adds, “It won’t come as a surprise to you to say I’ve heard all about you from my son, and bits and pieces from the girl I consider to be my daughter. My son doesn’t sing your praises, but for some reason my foolhardy daughter sees fit to protect your sorry ass from me, and the rest of her family. Something they aren’t altogether understanding of.” Confusion knits my brow causing her to laugh again. Reaching out across the table she offers her hand, “My name is Emily Matthews, good to finally make your acquaintance, Max. I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. Road names aren’t necessary when we’re discussing matters that have nothing to do with the club,” she says challenging me with a raised eyebrow and satisfied smirk.
Fuck me sideways with a fence paling covered in rusty nails. Emily, as in Diesel’s mom, and Adelyn’s self-professed mother is sitting in my fucking kitchen at eight o’clock in the morning, drinking coffee like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do. What more could I wish for? On second thoughts I shouldn’t have fucking asked. I really shouldn’t.
Captive: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel Page 9