by Paula Cox
“Is that all you have to say?” I whispered harshly after I had given him a solid two minutes to get over his initial shock.
“I don’t know what to say,” he muttered, his face never changing.
“That’s just great,” I snarled loudly as I pushed back from the table with a hard shove and jumped to my feet.
“Wait! Alex! Where are you going?” he called as I spun on my toe and marched toward the door without a backwards glance, passing the waitress with our order on the way.
Chapter 4
I was just slamming the door of my car when Cain came charging out of Lard Have Mercy. “Alex! Wait a minute,” he shouted as he stopped by my door, but I was already backing out, the tires spinning on the wet pavement as the car whined backwards. I was so mad and hurt I couldn’t see straight. All I wanted was for him to make some kind of acknowledgement of what had happened, not just sit there and stare at me like I was a leper or something.
I whipped my car around in the parking lot and then punched it, revving the engine hard as I raced for the exit. I barely slowed as I slid out into the road then banged up through the gears, taking my anger out on my little car. I wiped my eyes and looked in the rearview. I could see a single headlight turning to follow.
I braked to a hard stop at a red light and Cain rolled up beside me. “Alex! Would you just wait a minute?” The moment the light turned green I revved the engine and dumped the clutch, the rear tires wailing as they fought for grip on the slick road.
We had to stop three more times before I arrived home, and each time Cain pulled up beside me. After his second attempt to get my attention failed, he stopped trying and just followed. When I arrived home I raised the garage door and pulled into the small one car. I started the door down while I was still in the car, but he got his hands on it and the safety sensor thing tripped and it started back up. I punched the button to start the door down again, but once again, he stopped it. I gritted my teeth and got out of my car.
“Get out of my house before I call the cops,” I snarled.
“Go ahead. They can stand here while we talk this over.”
“You had your chance!”
“Oh for fucks sake! Cut me some slack! I just found out I was a father! How did you expect me to react? You at least had a little warning when you found out!”
I softened a little. Maybe I was being too hard on him. And he was right. I had a week to steel myself for the news, and even then, I was a complete mess for two days after I found out.
I stared at him a moment, then sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I overreacted. Do you want to come in?”
“Thank you,” he said gruffly as he stepped into the garage.
I slapped the box by the door to start the garage door down as I stepped into the kitchen, Cain following me in and shutting the door. “Nice place. You live alone?”
“Yeah. It’s small but it’s all I need,” I said as I wandered into the living room. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. Thank you, though.” We sat down on the couch. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but how did this happen? I wore… protection.”
“I know. I made sure of it. Did one of them break?”
I saw Cain swallow hard. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. I was so fucked up. But it had to be something like that, right?”
“Yeah.” I looked at my shoes.
“Alex, I don’t know what to say. I could say I’m sorry, but that would be a lie. I’m sorry I got you pregnant, but I’m not sorry that I spent the night with you.”
“Well, I’m sorry I spent the night with you,” I countered, then immediately felt bad for saying it. It wasn’t Cain’s fault any more than it was mine. “Sorry. That wasn’t very nice.”
“It’s okay,” he said, but I could tell the remark stung him.
We sat in silence for a moment. “What do you do, Cain? I don’t know anything about you. I’m not asking to try to get something from you. I would just like to know more about my baby’s father.”
“I’m in sales.”
“I know that. You told me. But what do you sell? Who do you work for?”
He hesitated a moment. “I work for the Hellhounds and I buy and sell machined parts.”
“Machined parts? What does that mean?”
“They’re just precision milled metal parts that are used to build various machines.”
“What kind of machines?”
“Different things. I buy the component, the Hellhounds put them together, and we sell the finished product on to our customers. Simple really.”
I could tell he was dancing around something. “You’re not going to tell me what the machines are, are you?”
He smiled, but it didn’t affect me like it had earlier. “No. Sorry. Trade secret.”
“Are the machines legal?”
“Yes. Millions of people have them.”
I grunted, unsure that I believed him. “So what’s with the 1% patch then?”
His eyes widened slightly. “You know what that means?”
“It means you ride with an outlaw club.”
“That’s one interpretation. The other is that I ride my bike, rain or shine, 365 days a year.”
“Is that why you wear it?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
“Why? You seemed to like me well enough before.”
“That was before I was going to be mother. I can’t have a drug dealer, or whatever you do, hanging around.”
Cain barked out a laugh. “Is that what you think we do? Sell drugs?” He chuckled again. “I told you the truth. We buy parts, put them together, and sell them on. We don’t have any involvement in drugs at all. No prostitution. No counterfeiting. No guns for hire. Nothing like that.”
“But you won’t tell me what you do?”
“No, sorry, I can’t. We have to protect our client’s identity. It’s part of the deal.”
“Why are you here, in New Orleans?”
“I came to pick up another load of parts. Well, that’s why I was here the last time. This time I had to come down and deal with a problem with customs.”
“You expect me to believe you are a perfectly legitimate businessman that just happens to ride with an outlaw club?”
“I expect you to believe that I work for a group, that just happens to be a motorcycle club, that is in the import business, yes. Because it’s the truth. What about you? Do you work full time at The Cat’s Claw?”
“Yes. Tuesday through Saturday, six until two.”
“You make good money?”
“I do okay. You?”
“I do okay,” he replied with a grin. I suspected he did a little better than just okay with him drinking Don Julio Tequila and dropping twenties like Washingtons. “What are you plans for the baby?” he asked softly.
“Why do you care?”
“Because it’s my kid, too.”
“I’m not asking you for anything.”
“I didn’t say you were. But I have a right to have a say in this.”
“You have no right,” I said firmly. “I don’t want you involved.”
“I’m already involved. The moment you told me you were pregnant with my child, I became involved. If you didn’t want me involved, why did you tell me at all?”
I mentally squirmed. Why, indeed? “I thought you had a right to know,” I replied softly, looking at my shoes again.
“That’s right. I do. And I have a right to have some input on how the child is—”
“You can forget that right now! I’m raising this child, not you!”
“So you’re taking it to term and keeping it?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I told you, Alex, this is my kid, too. If you had said you were getting an abortion… well, I wouldn’t have agreed to that. Adoption either.”
“You have no say in the matter,” I said, my dander getting up.
“The hell I don’t,” he countered just as
firmly. “Look, I don’t want to fight, okay? You’re not getting an abortion, and that’s good. We agree on that. So let’s not fight, okay?”
“Yes. Okay. But I’m not asking you for anything. I will handle it myself.”
“I want to be involved. I should be involved. Why don’t you want my help?”
“I don’t think that is a good idea. I don’t want some outlaw biker involved in his or her life.”
“It won’t be like that,” he said softly.
“Oh? Why not? You won’t tell me what you do—”
“I told you! We import machined parts!”
“—and you wear the 1% patch. I don’t believe for a minute that patch means you ride your bike every day. It means you’re a crook, a thief, and an outlaw. You would be a bad influence. And not only that, you live five hundred odd miles away in Dallas. So you tell me, Cain, exactly how is that supposed to work? How are you going to pop by for ice cream? Are you going to be here to help with the middle of the night feedings? Changing diapers? Can you ride down and watch the baby for an hour or so while I go grocery shopping?”
Cain looked at me a moment. “You could move to Dallas. I could find you a place and—”
“New Orleans is my home! Not Dallas. This is where my grandparents live. I can’t leave them! Besides, I’m not moving to Dallas to hang out with a thug.”
I saw Cain’s face harden. “I’m not like you think. You think you know what you are talking about, but you don’t know shit about what I do – what the Hellhounds do. So just save me the pissy attitude, okay? Have I accused you of being a whore for working in a bar known for its personal service in the back rooms?”
“No,” I said quietly.
“Because I don’t make assumptions. You should try it sometime. You might find out things aren’t always the way you think they are.”
“Are you telling me that you and the Hellhounds are doing nothing illegal – that I don’t have to worry about the cops busting in my door one day and hauling you away in handcuffs? Or worse, some rival gang showing up and gunning us all down in cold blood? Is that what you are telling me?”
“I’m telling you, I’m not like you think I am.”
“That didn’t answer the question!”
He stood up and paced back and forth a couple of times before he turned to face me. “I don’t understand why you are so hung up on what I do!”
“Because, goddamnit, you won’t give me a straight answer!” I raged as I jumped to my feet to confront him. “I work in a bar. That’s what I do! I don’t do drugs, I don’t sleep around, and I don’t drink all that much. You’re my first lover in almost three months. I have a normal, stable life! Can you say the same? That’s why I’m hung up on what you do! I don’t want my baby growing up knowing her father has been thrown in jail, killed, or run off with some whore! I don’t want her father coming home completely shit-faced every night after being out drinking with his biker pals! Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
Cain stared at me a moment. “It won’t be like that, I promise. Yes I drink, and party hard sometimes. But I can stop. Just come to Dallas with me and you’ll see. Alex, I… want to help you.”
“Uh huh. I don’t need your help.”
“How do you know? Have you ever had a baby before?”
“No. Have you?” I countered just to be a bitch.
“No,” he said slowly. “But I think I know more about what lies in store for you than you think.”
“Uh huh. How’s that?”
“You won’t come to Dallas?”
I noticed that he completely dodged the question, but I let it slide. It’s always the secrets with him. “No. I can’t.”
He stroked his beard slowly as he thought. “Okay. I’ll figure something out.” He smiled at me, that smile that made me get all squishy inside. “I want to be with you, to help you… and I always get what I want.”
“Not this time, you won’t.”
His smile broadened. “We’ll see. So it’s a girl?”
“What?” I asked as my brow wrinkled and I tried to follow the sudden turn in the conversation.
“You said ‘I don’t want her father coming home completely shit-faced every night.’ So I asked if you knew it was a girl.”
“Oh. No. Too early. Why?”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter, but having a little girl would be cool.”
I smiled softly. I was kind of hoping for a little girl myself. “Just healthy. That’s all I want. Healthy and with as normal of a life as I can provide.”
Cain stepped in close and I could, once again, feel the pull of him. “Normal would be to have a mother and a father.”
“A father who was home every night.”
“I could be home every night,” he said as he moved in closer. “I could take care of both my girls.”
I took a step back, not liking the way he was making me feel. “You can’t even take care of yourself. The last time I saw you, you were only two drinks from being face down in a gutter.”
Cain snickered. “Not my finest hour, I admit. But look at me now. Two drinks, just as I said.”
I had to give him that. After his two drinks, he had switched to soda. “You said you wanted this to be a night to remember. Think you will remember it now?”
He stepped in close again and pulled me gently to him, his arms going around me. He smiled as he brought his lips close to mine. “It has been a memorable night, that’s for sure.” He kissed me gently on the lips and I swear I could feel my toes tingle. “It’s late. We can talk more about this in the morning.”
I wanted him. I wanted him so badly. “No,” I said as I pushed him gently away and slipped from his embrace. “No. There is nothing left to talk about.”
“There’s a lot to talk about,” he said quietly as he held my hands, bringing one to his lips. “What will you do after the baby is born? How will you live?”
“I have savings,” I said, pulling my hand away. “I’ll be fine.”
“You need me.” He moved to kiss me again but I turned away.
“Just go.”
He tried to turn my face toward him but I resisted. He didn’t increase the pressure, didn’t force me to turn, but pulled at my chin with a gentle, steady, pressure until I turned to face him. He kissed me, softly, just a feathery touch of his lips to mine before he kissed me on the forehead. “I always get what I want,” he said softly before he backed off. He touched my belly gently, a slow caress before he stepped back and smiled at me. “Thank you for telling me.”
“You had a right to know.”
“Yes. But you still could have made the choice to not tell me. Thank you, Alex. I mean that.” He smiled again and walked to the front door. As he opened it, he looked back at me and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” then stepped into the night.
I moved to the door, locked it, then stood, confused by what I was feeling until I heard his bike rumble to life then fade into the distance. I shook myself. What I was feeling was just the hormones talking. I hoped. I couldn’t be involved with Cain. I couldn’t!
Chapter 5
I walked out of the bedroom and into the living area of my house, yawning and scratching myself awake. It was only eleven in the morning, but I had a doctor’s appointment at two and I hated feeling rushed in the mornings. With another huge yawn, I stepped to the windows and cranked open the blinds in the kitchen, then did the same for the living room. When I opened the front door to allow the morning sun to pour in, I squeaked in surprise. Cain was sitting on the steps to my porch.
“Good morning,” he said, twisting around so he could face me.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded without opening the glass storm door between us.
“I told you that I would see you this morning when I left last night.”
“How long have you been sitting out there?”
“Only a couple of hours.”
“A couple o
f hours? You’ve been sitting there since nine o’clock?”
“About eight-forty-five, actually,” he said with a grin. “I didn’t want to miss you.”
I debated on what to do. I couldn’t decide if he was sweet or creepy. “What are you, a stalker?”