Property of the Biker_A Motorcycle Club Romance_The Warriors MC

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Property of the Biker_A Motorcycle Club Romance_The Warriors MC Page 11

by Naomi West


  “I might be, if you would let me get out in the world on my own and have some experiences.” I kept my arms crossed.

  “May I remind you that you did get out in the world for a little while, and look where it’s gotten you? Do you expect me to pay for this child? It isn’t as though you could go get a job, because then you would have to pay for daycare. You spend the afternoon calling around and checking rates, my dear, and that alone will make you change your mind.” She wagged her finger in the air at me, sure that crunching numbers would affect how I felt about this baby.

  While I could easily have argued that I could get an evening job and Mother could watch the baby when she got home from work, I knew I would never let that happen. I didn’t want her influence on any child of mine. She would only raise the baby to believe that I was some horrible, ungrateful daughter. Or perhaps, if it was a girl, she would stuff her in uncomfortable dresses and show her off to other old women. I shuddered at the thought. I shook my head, exasperated. “I’m sure I could find some way to work it out. And there’s always child support.”

  “Ha!” Mother threw her hands in the air and laughed. “You really are naïve if you think some loser like that is going to give you money just for giving birth to his brat. Even if you had the child support ordered through the state, the jerk would never stay still long enough for you to track him down when he quit paying. Your father never gave me a dime for you, you know.”

  I’d heard her mention this before. She refused to say much about my father, but she never neglected to tell me just how he had left her in the lurch and that it had all been on her shoulders. Mother was always completely innocent. My father—the ghost of some dream Mother had had years ago—was always the culprit.

  “Snake just isn’t like that,” I insisted. I was surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth, considering how much I had loathed him when I had heard about the bet. But I still felt there was some trace of decency in him, or perhaps I just hoped there was.

  “You just wait and see, missy. I know I’m right, and someday you will, too. Now, then. Let’s figure out your hair and makeup for the news report. I think we should get you a trim and cut off all those dead ends, but I want to leave it nice and long. It makes you look more innocent, you know, so you should wear it down for the interview. I ordered a new pair of those blue contacts you wanted, since I seem to have misplaced the last pair. We might have to go up a shade on your foundation, since you spent far too much time out in the sun, but we can blend it all nicely together and have you presentable.” She finally came close to me once again, and her eyes scrunched up and she inspected my face.

  I had never felt more alone in my life. I didn’t have Snake anymore. I had never really had Mother, and what friends I used to have weren’t really friends at all. The only person I had was this baby, and who knew what would happen to it. I was stuck and alone, and still nothing more than a prisoner.

  Mother had completely moved on from talk of the baby, and her tone implied there was no more time for arguments. She pushed me down the hallway to the bathroom. “Let’s go ahead and do a test run. I don’t want to get down the wire and find that something doesn’t work right. Also, we absolutely must go out and get you some new clothes. There isn’t time to go to any of the specialty boutiques, but I think we can find something suitable at the mall.” She set me down in front of the lighted makeup mirror and began raking a brush through my hair, yanking my head back with every stroke. “I’m thinking something conservative, but still cute. Maybe a skirt suit. That should hide that little bit of a bump you have going on, as well. I wonder if one of my old girdles would work?”

  I watched myself in the mirror as though watching a stranger, a stranger who had never been happy for a moment of her life. A tear welled up in my eye and dripped down my cheek, following all those tears that had gone before it. Many times since I’d returned home, I’d thought I had cried myself completely out. I had prepared myself to be numb to everything going on around me, but it never happened. Every day, I woke up and I was once again disappointed to find myself in the same cage I had always been in.

  Chapter 13

  Snake

  I scanned the road, watching the cars as they went by and looking for anything that might seem remotely familiar. The morning sun beat down on me, the blazing heat shimmering where it rose from the asphalt. The cloudless sky had already turned such a pale blue that it was nearly white. It was going to be a long day on the bike.

  “Hey, man.” Axle came up behind me and looked out where I was looking, but I knew he wasn’t really searching for anything. He ran his fingers through that long, curly hair of his and pulled a rubber band off his wrist to tie it back. “You all packed up and ready to go?”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “I guess.” I had risen before the sun, listlessly throwing my few belongings in a bag.

  He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly through pursed lips. “I know you aren’t saying anything about it, but I know what’s wrong.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?” His surety about my mindset irritated me. He was young and reckless, even more so than I was, and he had no idea what was really going on.

  “Come on. Everyone knows, even if they don’t say anything. Every morning, you come out here and you watch the road, waiting to see Bambi come back to you. You don’t know how she’s going to get here, if she’ll have grabbed a cab or hopped on the bus and walked from the station. But you still think she’s coming back.” He looked out across the road again. The sun highlighted the freckles that were scattered across his nose and cheeks, which made him look far too youthful and innocent to be in a motorcycle club.

  I clenched my jaw, irritated that he really did understand. “Is that such a bad thing?” Very little had been said about Bambi since that horrific night when the cops had tried to arrest me. They’d let me go with nothing more than a warning to stay in the area in case they needed to talk to me, but that didn’t mean I could just shrug it off as though it hadn’t happened.

  “Well, I guess not. But I think we all know at this point that she isn’t coming back. She went running back to her mama. That’s what all women do eventually, anyway.”

  I turned to him fully now. “And just when did you become such an expert on women? We’re not just talking about some quick fuck in a dark parking lot, Axle. This is different.”

  “I’m just going off of what I see, man. My own mom did it, running back to live with Grandma when she couldn’t stand fighting with Dad anymore. He said he should have seen it coming a long time ago, or maybe even sent her back home himself. Said all women are like that.” Axle shifted slightly, his boots crunching against the dirty concrete of the parking lot.

  “I’m sure some are,” I agreed, “and I’m sure some of them are like that because men made them that way. But not all of them.” My stepmother certainly hadn’t left, even though her relationship with my father had been tenuous. For all I knew, they were still together. It wasn’t like it mattered anymore. “Bambi is different.”

  “It’s been a month,” Axle argued. “It’s time for the club to move on, and it’s time for you to move on, too. You’re just bringing everybody down, and you have no proof that Bambi really was different. I mean, how do you know she wasn’t the one who called the cops on you? Have you ever thought about that?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened.” Rusty had just come out of his room, and he walked up to us with a duffel bag of clothes over his shoulder. “And you have to admit, she was a little too clean for this group.” Rusty had forgiven me as soon as he had mopped the blood off his face, but he had been a little more distant in the intervening weeks. I couldn’t blame him. I’d been an ass, but hitting his smug face had felt good. There was still just the faintest trace of a bruise down the length of his nose. I hadn’t broken it, but I had come close.

  “Maybe so, but you know just as well as I do that she wanted to be with me. She only left b
ecause she found out about that bet. Which I still won, by the way.” I smiled at the last part, an expression that felt odd on my face after feeling somber and numb for so long.

  Rusty punched me on the arm. “Maybe we should send her the money just for having to put up with your ass.”

  It was meant as a jest, but there was a certain sense of logic in the joke. “Yeah, you do that.”

  Bruiser spotted us from across the parking lot and came striding over. “You boys ready to go?”

  Axle and Rusty nodded, but I remained neutral.

  The president studied me. “The Warriors have been in one spot for too long. We need to hit the road and get somewhere far away. There have been too many people coming around, trying to see who we are and wondering if we’re all kidnappers. That’s not the kind of attention I want for us. I know that wasn’t your fault, Snake, but even you have to admit that enough is enough. It’s still hot enough that we can ride north for quite a way and get a good distance from all these high-and-mighty southerners.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Axle volunteered, rubbing his hands together. “I think I’ve pretty much run through all the available women around here; well, those that are worthy of me, anyway. I’m ready to see what northern girls are like.”

  Rusty let out a loud laugh that thundered against the side of the building. “They’ll reject you just the same as the southern ones do.”

  Axle lifted his hands. “Hey, it’s still worth a try, right?”

  Bruiser hadn’t taken his eyes from me while the other two bantered. “What do you say?”

  I looked him straight in the eye. A slim scar ran down his forehead, skipped over his eye socket, and darted down his cheek. It remained pale despite the deep tan of his skin, a prominent reminder to anyone who thought he wasn’t a fighter. Bruiser had scared the hell out of me when I’d first joined the club, but I knew a lot more about him now. I knew that no matter what kind of vows I had made to stay loyal to the Warriors, he would understand what I had to do now. “I’m staying.”

  He gave me a long and serious look. “I don’t know if that’s a wise idea. You won’t have any of us for backup, you know. We’ll be far away, and we probably won’t be coming back this way for at least several months.” He looked down at his boots, shook his head, and looked back up at me. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Snake.”

  “I like to think so. I have to go after her.”

  “What happens if you can’t find her? Or she rejects you?”

  I didn’t like those ideas. I knew, though, that I would search until I did find her, and that the chances were good she was ensconced somewhere in Myrtle Creek. As for her rejecting me, well, I would just have to make sure she didn’t. “I guess I’ll just have to deal with that if it comes about.”

  Bruiser clapped me on the shoulder. “You know how to get a hold of me if you change your mind or if she decides to come back with you. You’re welcome to come find us; both of you are.”

  Rusty stepped forward and shook my hand. “It’s been good riding with you, brother. I hope we see you back again, no matter what happens.”

  Axle was next, and he grinned at me. “Now that you’re out of the way, I’ll get laid a lot more often. Good luck.”

  By this point, Rubble and Moose had noticed our little gathering and joined us. “It’s a shame, because I’ll be stuck playing cards with these idiots, but you gotta do what you gotta do.”

  “I hope you find her,” Rubble said as he shook my hand. “And if she has a sister, bring her back for me.”

  “Anyone who’s even distantly related to Bambi wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole!” Moose laughed. He smacked Rubble on the back and nearly knocked him over. “We’ll see ya, Snake.”

  I watched as the men mounted up and cranked their engines. The noise in the parking lot was like a massive swarm of loud bees, and nothing could be heard above it. To others, it was nothing but noise. To me, it was a sound that would reverberate through my bones until the day I died. It was a rumbling music that would always resemble a big part of my life. Bruiser led the way, and the motorcycles fell into two rows as they pulled out onto the road. The Warriors made a long black line that snaked down the road and around a curve. I stood where I was until the very last bike faded into the distance.

  My bike was the only one that remained in the parking lot. The few other cars that belonged to the guests had been parked on the other side, making my ride look like the only one in the world. Alone, just as I felt. I hadn’t realized until Bambi had come along just how much I needed to have someone in my life, and my young adulthood had taught me to keep my distance from anyone who might hurt me.

  I swung my leg over the bike and settled into the seat, taking in a deep breath. There was no telling what stance Bambi’s mother had taken on the whole thing, but at least she must have dropped the kidnapping charges. Even so, I very well might run into cops who still thought I ought to be in prison. Even once I got back to Myrtle Creek, I would have to deal with anyone who recognized me and the citizens who were pissed at me for taking away their queen. After that, there was still her mother. And after her, came Bambi. She was the most important obstacle. I had to get her to understand, even if nobody else did.

  Firing up the engine, I left the motel and my life as a Warrior behind. I turned to the right instead of the left as the rest of the club had done, heading off for Bambi.

  Chapter 14

  Bambi

  That night, with the makeup rinsed away, the numerous hair products shampooed out, and two new outfits ironed and ready to go, I lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling. It was the same ceiling I had seen my entire life. In fact, there was very little of my room that had changed. Sure, the frilly pink bedspread had been replaced by a dark purple comforter, and the frilly dresses in the closet had been replaced by sweaters and jackets, but I still knew this to be the bedroom of my youth. Like most little girls, I had spent hours in here pretending I was a princess or a movie star. But there had been plenty of other times when I had imagined I was the president of the United States, a scientist, or a chef. I made my own little cooking shows in front of a toy camera, adding invisible ingredients to my triple-layer cakes and explaining how to make the frosting nice and fluffy. I had pretended that I wrote the books on the little pink shelf, gladly signing copies at the fictional bookstore in my mind. There had been more to me once. I’d had dreams. I wondered where those dreams had gone.

  I hardly slept that night. Though my belly had not gotten very big yet, it was already uncomfortable to sleep on my stomach. I flopped from one side to another, never quite comfortable no matter if I stretched my legs out, curled them up toward me, or put a cushion between them. My pillow was too hot or too cold. The worst part was that I didn’t even feel tired, but I knew I had to get some sleep in order to prepare for the interview the next day. I wanted to argue with Mother about it and tell her I wasn’t going to do it, but I knew even without trying that she would never accept my refusal. I would just have to find a way to turn the tide in my favor.

  When the sunlight pushed through my curtains and cast bright streaks across my comforter, I went ahead and got up. I made myself two fried eggs, a piece of toast, and a banana. If nothing else, I would make sure my baby got all the nutrition it needed, even if I wouldn’t be able to give it anything after it was born.

  Mother stumbled into the kitchen an hour later, her makeup smeared across her face and her hair in curlers, to find me staring out the kitchen window over a cup of coffee. “I see you’ve changed your mind,” she remarked with a smirk. “Coffee isn’t good for babies.”

  “It’s decaf.” I didn’t turn to look at her, and I curled my fingers tighter around the handle of the mug. I kept my focus on our backyard, watching the birds swoop through the trees as the sun rose higher in the sky, marking a passage of time that I couldn’t feel. “It was in the back of the cabinet from the last time Grandpa visited.”

  “Oh well. Just don’t
have more than a cup. It’ll stain your teeth.” She swept past me in her flimsy nightgown and retrieved a box of sugary cereal from the cabinet above the stove. “So, the reporters had originally asked to come by this morning and do a recorded session, but then they called back the other day and requested we do it live on the five o’clock news. You know, create a bigger story out of it. Of course, I told them they could. That way they can’t cut out any parts of our interview, and I want to be sure I have a chance to say my piece. They don’t think the people notice when they omit parts of the story, but I know it.”

  I took another sip of coffee. It was nice and hot, and that seemed to be the one thing that made me feel better, and despite Mother’s wishes I was already on my third cup. I didn’t respond.

  “That should give us just enough time to get the house all cleaned up,” she continued. “I want you to take care of the kitchen. I plan to have them do the interview in the living room in front of the fireplace, but I plan to invite the reporters and the cameramen to have a cup of coffee or a glass of tea. And I already called the young man down the street and asked him to come give the front yard an extra trim this morning. No doubt, they’ll take a few shots of the front of the house, and I want everything to look immaculate.”

 

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