by Eliza Marsh
Shoving the test in her bag, Jackie left the drugstore and walked back to the diner as quickly as she could. She was beginning to feel anxious, but she knew there was no reason to worry. They had been more than careful. Elaine had to be wrong.
“Did you get it?”
Jackie had barely entered the diner when the cook arrived by her side, getting straight to the point. She exhaled and gave Elaine a small smile, trying to ease her nerves. “Yeah, I'm gonna take it when I get home.”
“Good.” Elaine was about to go back to the kitchen when she hesitated, turning back to Jackie. “Everything is going to be just fine, dear. Whatever happens, I'm here for you.” There was finality in the older woman's tone that comforted Jackie. She was glad Elaine had said that, even though there was no need for it. She was fine.
She went back to work, waiting on tables and avoiding her purse like the plague as if not thinking about the test would make it disappear. When her shift ended, she started home with a heavy heart and Elaine's words weighing on her mind. The stand-in mother wanted Jackie to take the test first thing and immediately call her, either to ease her mind or to pile more worries on it.
Entering her apartment, Jackie kicked her shoes off and went into the kitchen, throwing her purse on the table. There was leftover pizza on the counter, and she guessed that Tyler had been home at some point. The man never picked up after himself, leaving everything for Jackie to clean. Typical male. She shook her head and took a bite from the pizza. Pouring herself a glass of water, she wearily eyed her purse.
She had to admit that she was worried. Jackie would never have thought about this possibility on her own. The fact that Elaine found it necessary to assure her that she wasn't alone, that she had support, made Jackie's mind turn dark.
What if she was pregnant? What would she do then? Keep the baby? No, that one wasn't an option, not with Dean. She was sure that he wouldn't want a child. He didn't have a place in his life for a kid, not with the club — all of the parties, the women, the crime. Dean was too comfortable with all of that to give it away for her. For a baby.
Shaking her head and leaving the piece of pizza on the counter, Jackie grabbed her bag and made her way to the bathroom. There was no point in torturing herself. Right now, there were too many variables, too many unknowns. She wouldn't worry before knowing for certain.
Getting the pregnancy test out of her bag, Jackie quickly read the instructions and followed them explicitly, not wanting to mess anything up. Waiting those three minutes for the results to appear was the most painful thing she'd ever experienced. All sorts of thoughts ran through her head, each one worse than the previous. Just as she managed to calm herself down, she'd look at the sink and see the stick, the whole process starting over. She was a mess, no doubt about that. Her nerves were on edge, and she was about to burst into tears. Either that or she was going to break something.
When the time to see the results finally came, Jackie was almost in hysterics. She took a deep breath and hesitantly approached the sink, peeking cautiously at the test lying in it. She shook her head and scoffed at her actions, snatching up the stick quickly.
The courage she had just gathered quickly disappeared, though, when she looked at the results. Her world shattered in that instant, and she couldn't hold it in anymore. Dropping the stick onto the counter, she slid to the floor, her hand covering her mouth. Huge sobs racked her body, the tears falling from her eyes in torrents.
This couldn't be happening to her. Not now, not ever. She shouldn't have been put in this position, shouldn't have to put Dean in this position. What would he say? What would she tell him? Should she tell him?
She curled herself into a ball, rocking back and forth. This was not happening to her. It simply couldn't be happening. Her mind flashed to the pregnancy test lying in her sink, and she let out another sob.
There were two clear lines on the applicator.
Pregnant.
She was pregnant.
19
Boredom.
That was what Dean was feeling at the moment. He was bored, irritated and itching to use the shotgun lying across his lap.
The drive to the cabin where Luther Donovan was hiding out had been slow, the stop they made at a gas station prolonging it even further. For the last hour, they had been observing the lake house, planning and waiting for the best moment to barge in. Luther wasn't a smart man, choosing a location like this one. It was an excellent place to take your mistress, yes, but an awful place for a guy that had enemies. Cut off from the world and surrounded by woods, it was the perfect setting for a hit. Their job couldn't have been easier.
The young woman occupying the cabin with Luther stepped through the front door clad only in a bathing suit and walked to the small lake that neighbored the residence. Luke motioned to Dean and Jagger to follow him and quietly got out of his hiding place. Perfect, the mistress wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. Even more perfect, the chick had left the door unlocked for them. If that wasn't an invitation, Dean didn't know what was.
The bikers entered the cabin, and Jagger quietly pulled at the door, leaving it open just a crack. He got his gun out and peered through the opening, keeping watch should anyone approach. The Macon bikers continued further into the space, being as quiet as possible. That was unnecessary, they realized as they neared what was presumed to be the bedroom.
The traitor was in the shower.
If this had been any easier, the guy would have just come to them with a blindfold and offered them a gun to kill him with. Everything was turning out perfect.
They entered the room and saw that it was indeed a bedroom. Nothing special: a bed, some hunting trophies, a TV, and a door leading outside. Another door led to what must have been the bathroom, as Luther Donovan's muffled, off-key singing filled the bedroom.
“Go get him. I'll look for our money.”
Luke didn't even bother to lower his voice, and Dean nodded, cocking his shotgun. He barged into the bathroom, effectively scaring Luther to death. Flinging a towel at him, Dean pointed his gun at the man's face and fixed him with a stony gaze.
“Nice place you got here, Luther.”
“Shit! What- what are you doing here?” The words came out as squeaks and were jumbled, displaying the horror that the middle-aged man was feeling. He had gone as white as a sheet, looking as if Death himself had come to collect his soul. That wasn't far from the truth, and Luther Donovan knew it.
He was a dead man.
“Oh, I think you know why I'm here. Come on.” Dean motioned to the door with the shotgun. “Out you go.”
The two made their way out of the bathroom, the sight of Luke turning the bedroom upside-down greeting them. The mattress had been flung to one side, clothes strewn everywhere as he pulled open drawers. Bedside tables were overturned, and lamps laid broken on the floor, but there was no sign of the money they had come for.
“Kneel!”
It took Luther a few moments to comprehend Dean's barked order, and the biker nudged him with the gun, bringing him to his knees. Then Dean circled to the other side, coming face to face with the older man.
“Where's our money, traitor? Everything we paid you and everything you got from the Saints.” With the shotgun leveled at his face, Luther swallowed and began saying a prayer in his head. He wasn't a religious man, but he had never wanted for God to exist more than he wished for it now. “The money!”
“It's in the closet!” Luther took a deep breath, unsuccessfully trying to steady his trembling voice. “There's a loose board. It's under there.”
Luke didn't hesitate to check, finding the hiding spot quickly. A hole opened in the floor, and inside was a black duffel bag. Unzipping the bag, he peered inside, seeing what they had come for. A large sum of money was theirs for the taking, and the biker president smiled, nodding to Dean.
“Got it. Finish this, and let's go.” Taking the bag and making his way to the door, Luke delivered a swift kick to Luther's side, causi
ng the overweight man to land on his side. “I'll be waiting outside with Jagger. Hurry up.”
No sooner had he closed the bedroom door behind him, a loud bang erupted from the room. A satisfied smile came to Luke's lips, and he cheerfully clapped Jagger on the back. “Let's go, Jag. There's a party waiting for us.”
He spoke too soon.
They were almost out the front door when they heard a piercing scream, followed by a second bang. There was no way Dean would need another shot to kill the snitch. Something had gone wrong.
Dean ran a hand through his shaggy hair and looked at the body lying in a pool of blood and glass a few feet from him. The girl had come through the back door, and he had shot on impulse. He stepped closer, taking in her familiar features. She was tiny, with creamy skin and long dark hair spread out beneath her head. If it weren't for the blood and glass around her, she would have looked like she was sleeping.
Jackie had looked the same when he had seen her this morning, sleeping in his bed, her hair spread out in a similar fashion. The lifeless girl on the floor bore a strong resemblance to Jackie, the similarities shocking. He absently wondered what his lover would think of this.
He couldn't bear to look at her any longer.
“Fuck…”
It was a low groan, one that wasn't supposed to be heard by anyone.
“What the hell happened, Dean?”
Luke and Jagger had entered the room, both with their guns drawn and stern expressions. When they surveyed the room and saw the damage, they lowered their weapons.
Dean ran another hand over his head and shook it. He had hesitated, if only for a second, wondering what Jackie might think of his actions. She had made him start to question things, and he wasn’t sure he liked that, wasn’t sure he wanted that. He knew he wanted her, but he had also been very happy with his life before she came along.
He lifted his head as his expression hardened, looking at Luke. Dean was a killer, had the first notch on his belt even before he joined the club. He didn’t know anything else.
It didn’t matter what Jackie thought of him.
“Nothing,” he finally replied to the club president. “I handled it.”
Jagger ushered the pair of Macon bikers out of the cabin quickly and took off towards the black van hidden down the dirt road.
“What the hell was that?” Luke yelled angrily, shoving Dean as soon as they stepped outside of the cabin.
“Nothing,” he said firmly, trying to walk past Luke and follow Jagger, only to be shoved again.
“Are you growing a conscience all of a sudden?"
Dean leveled his shoulders coldly and glared down at the man who he admired above all others. “I got the job done, didn't I?”
“That's not the point! What the hell is going on in that head of yours?”
“She was just a girl-”
“That's never stopped you before. But if it makes you feel better, next time you can leave the witness alive just because she has tits and let her ID you to the cops. Let me know how that works out for you.”
“Are we done?” Dean asked, ignoring the jab. He once again tried to move down the road towards the van as the other man spoke.
“It's that stupid bitch you've been sleeping with, isn't it?” Dean stopped in his tracks but didn't turn around. “Jesus Christ! I knew this was gonna happen. She's got you all twisted up. Your loyalty is to this club and that patch on your chest, not to a great lay.”
Dean swung around sharply, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I can do my job.”
Luke rolled his eyes just as Jagger pulled up in the van. “Not from where I’m standing, you can’t.”
“You ladies gonna stand around and chit-chat, or can we get the fuck out of here before somebody shows up?” Jagger leaned out of the window, immediately noticing the tension between the two men. Dean grunted and walked to the back of the van while Luke jogged to the passenger side.
For the three hour ride back home, Dean sat in silence, ignoring any conversation from the front of the van. He was completely lost in his own thoughts after the events that had just taken place.
Luke had been right.
He had felt something after killing the woman. And it was because of Jackie.
It wasn't really because of anything she had done. As thoughts of his lady filled his head, so did the harsh realization that she knew very little about him. There was no way she would approve of his job within the club, of his almighty enforcer title.
She knew he wasn't the nicest guy she could have picked and that he often showed up a little bloody and bruised. But she had no idea of the extent to which he was very much the club's go-to executioner. Not just for the Macon charter, but every charter within an eight-hour drive. He was the one that people called when they needed serious business handled efficiently and effectively.
She was bound to find out eventually. Then she would be out the door and rightfully so.
Maybe that was for the best.
20
She had to tell him. She had to.
She couldn't not tell him.
The baby was his, too, after all. He had the right to know.
But would he want the baby? Hell, did she even want the baby? She wasn't ready for a baby.
Would he make her get rid of it? She could never do that. Maybe she shouldn't tell him.
No, she had to tell him.
How had this happened? They had been careful every time. She paused to think back on the multiple spur-of-the-moment fuck fests that Dean had instigated on different occasions.
Okay, so it's possible they forgot once or twice.
Jackie sat rooted to the spot in her truck currently parked in front of Eastside Mechanics. She had been sitting there battling with herself for the past ten minutes. To tell Dean or not to tell Dean?
Sighing, she quickly got out of the vehicle before the courage left her. It had taken her three days just to work up the nerve to drive over here. She couldn't lose it now. She was going to find Dean and tell him that she was having his baby.
Closing the truck door behind her, she stopped as a commotion unfolded in the middle of the lot.
“You can't expect me to pay for this. All you did was change the fucking rims.”
From her vantage point next to the truck, Jackie could see somebody arguing with Taco. The poor prospect looked as if he were trying to calm the customer down but to no avail.
“Sir, rims are expensive, especially the custom ones you ordered. We had to overnight those things.”
The vehicle in question was a bright red sports car, complete with racing decals and a shiny new set of rims on the tires. It sat patiently waiting in front of the garage for his owner that matched one hundred percent. The stranger had a red leather jacket, long scraggly hair, and sunglasses that probably cost more than Jackie made at the diner in a week.
Overall, the guy looked like a total dick.
She tried to focus on her mission of finding Dean, but the car and the argument were blocking her path. She momentarily wondered when they had moved the sports car because it hadn't been sitting there when she pulled in.
Jackie took a step forward, intent on taking the long way around the lot to get to her destination safely when a group of bikers walked out of the garage. They had all apparently heard the commotion and were now curious about the customer causing problems in their lot.
Well, she couldn't go over there now. She would just have to wait quietly by her truck until this situation was resolved.
In retrospect, she probably should have waited in the car.
“What's going on?” Mack asked Taco, glaring at the stranger.
“He says we overcharged him for the new rims.”
“Did we now?” Murphy asked rhetorically, all smiles at the events he knew were about to go down.
“Six hundred and fifty bucks for some rims is ridiculous!” The stranger yelled angrily, waving his hands around for emphasis.
“Your car is ridiculous
,” Dean growled from the back of the group, looking incredibly bored with the conversation. “Why don't you just pay the man and get the fuck outta here.”
“Hey, asshole. Why don't you shut the hell up.” The stranger was either oblivious to the fact that he was greatly outnumbered, or he was a complete moron.
“What'd you say to me, punk?” Dean charged forward, stopped only by Nash's firm arm that shot out against his chest.
“Relax.” Dean cut his eyes at Luke as the man approached from the garage, not eager to obey him at the moment. The charter president sauntered towards the cocky young man who was so sure some kind of government law protected him.
But should he continue to open his mouth, there were no laws that would save him from these bikers.
“Look here, boy.” It was obvious to Jackie that Luke's patience was thoroughly annoying Dean, who looked as though he wanted nothing more than to pummel the kid. “You can either pay the bill for the rims you wanted, or you can leave your car here until my guys have time to take them off and pay the labor bill for that. Either way, you're gonna give us some money.”
“This is some fucking bullshit, bro.”
Luke's eyes darkened at the term. “I'm definitely not your bro. You need to quit pushing your luck. Pay and get lost.”
“Fuck you and your gay biker boyfriends and your fucking rims.”
In a split second, Dean had tackled the man to the ground and was punching away.
From where she was standing, Jackie could only see the biker's top half, but she was quite sure she didn't want to see what this guy's face would look like when it was all over. She stared in horror as the rest of the club members did nothing to stop Dean's attack. Sure, she knew he was one of the club's more aggressive members, and she had seen him use his intimidation skills the very first time they had met. But this was something entirely different. She had never seen this kind of rage from him before.
On the other side of the car, Dean was swinging with blind fury. His fists were covered in blood, and the stranger's face was completely unrecognizable. What had started as a simple defense of his club had turned into a major stress reliever for all of the shit that had happened lately. The man on the ground was no longer some punk with a big mouth.