by Bijou Hunter
“He isn’t going to kill me, is he?”
“No. I think he’s looking to breed.”
“His babies would be huge, and I have small hips. It’ll never work. You ought to explain that to him. Maybe draw pictures if words prove too difficult for the big guy.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
Poppy sizes me up in the Earlham woman way. “If I’m not intimidated by you, why would he be?”
“The chance that I’d kill you is at nearly zero. Emmett’s chances of an early grave are considerably higher.”
“Nearly zero?” she balks, her eyes lighting up. “Now I really am telling.”
“Go ahead. I give your sister orgasms while you give her headaches. Her choice will be fairly simple.”
Poppy’s smile fades, and her eyes narrow. I spot a hint of Journey in her expression, except with fuller cheeks and less menace. I know Poppy is supposed to be scary, but she looks like a kid dressed up in her mommy’s big girl scowl.
“You’re lucky you knocked up my favorite sister, or I’d hurt you, former cop turned criminal.”
“That’s the kind of classy talk that brings boys like Emmett to your yard. You might want to put a sock in it when around the club.”
“Don’t you threaten me,” she says, ready to laugh. “I’ll beat you down.”
“Why are you laughing?”
“You made a Kelis reference. Now I am so definitely telling.”
“You made the same reference three days ago to Felix. If you tell on me, I’ll rat you out too.”
“I’m a sixteen-year-old girl. I’m allowed to be stupid.”
“Yeah, but you were corrupting an impressionable preteen.”
Poppy loses her smile. “Well played, former cop.
Spinning away with her blonde hair flying, Poppy hurries to her sisters sitting in a booth. After a little whining, she points at me. Journey stands up and walks in my direction. I’m not sure what to expect. I do know my woman makes frowns sexy.
“Tormenting children?” she asks. “I worried you didn’t have the father deal down pat, but you’ve proven capable of dealing with Poppy. I’ve never found you sexier than when you stare down the Queen of Bitchy.”
“If we have a daughter, you know she’ll end up just like that. There’s no way she won’t, and I think we should probably start preparing.”
“Our kids will be wonderful.”
“That’s what I just said, but we really should stock up on earplugs now.”
Journey’s eyes are bright and blue as she smiles up at me. “We’re having a baby.”
For the first time since she told me the news, I feel the weight of this change in our life. I don’t know if I injured my brain today, but I’m finally aware of how I’m never returning to the sheriff’s department. The bland ranch house will soon belong to someone else. No more quiet, lonely nights with only my dog to keep me company.
Journey and I stuck, despite our lack of relationship finesse. We have a kid on the way and a kid at home. I’m keeping this woman, and she won’t let me go.
My past is littered with lazy and easy decisions. My present will see a lot of hard, uncomfortable changes. The future, though, is rife with possibilities. All because of Journey Sheerer.
Epilogue
Journey
Our first Christmas in West Virginia as a family is nothing short of insane. We end up with a tree too large for the house, but the kids freak out about cutting it shorter. So the poor thing bends over awkwardly with the star drooping from the top. While I think it looks pathetic, Poppy declares the tree happier this way, and her minions agree.
Opening presents with kids takes an hour longer than when it was only Christine and my sisters. I videotape everything while Justice gets in people’s faces for pictures. She wants a million shots to ensure we never forget our first Christmas together.
Somehow, Donovan doesn’t yank out his hair from the noise and mess. He does stand back a bit to watch the madness. After the gifts are open, and breakfast is cooking, Otto joins Donovan away from the others. They talk about his presents and if it’ll snow for Christmas. Whenever I see them together, I want to cry like the baby cooking inside me.
Jared shows up for breakfast. He and Christine remain low-key about their relationship and if it’s going anywhere besides to the bedroom. I don’t push them, figuring they know best even if I’m pretty sure I could fix all of their problems if given a chance.
We spent an early Christmas lunch at Coretta’s house a few days back. It proved to be as painful as predicted, especially after she heard about Zeb hanging around our house.
“I see how it is,” she says in a disapproving tone to Christine.
“You can visit the house too if you promise to be civil.”
“I promise nothing.”
Christine shrugs and hands Coretta a gift. “Like it or don’t. It’s the thought that counts.”
I’m never more proud of my mother than after seeing her handle her parents that year. She’s finally learning to be herself around people who’d like to keep her in a box of their expectations.
Spring promises big changes. Donovan and I spend the cold winter months deciding on what house would work for our family. We choose the same floor plan as Christine, giving us four bedrooms. Otto gets a new room, picking a dark blue for the walls. We try to let him be part of our plans as much as possible, but the name Edith will need to wait.
I work up to the day I go into labor. In fact, my water breaks just after lunch, and I drive the three blocks to the hospital. Donovan arrives soon after, looking terrified. I realize he’s more afraid of my pain than of meeting our son.
“God created a magical thing called an epidural,” I tell him.
Even while I’m chilling out in bed and watching TV with my sisters and Christine, Donovan still worries.
For the last few hours of labor, Poppy cuddles with me. Occasionally, she pats my belly and reminds the baby that he’s on the clock.
Ike is born at three in the morning after very little effort on my part. Justice watches me give birth and says she’ll do the same thing soon but with more pizzazz.
My baby has thick dark hair like Jared. I can’t stop playing with Ike’s locks. He’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Donovan stands back while I cry over our sweet, perfect son.
“He’s too little to know your drama,” I tell Donovan. “You could be the biggest loser in the world, and he’ll only stare in awe at you.”
Grinning despite his fear and fatigue, Donovan shuffles closer until Ike is in his arms. I watch my man sit with his son nearby. Dozing off, I suspect these two will be inseparable soon.
I’m not wrong. Donovan gets the hang of holding the squirming baby and begins carrying him everywhere. By the time I return to work, he and Otto assure me they’ve got things handled. The rest of Otto’s summer vacation is talking to Ike about the importance of not showing his hand too soon.
Becca gets more prison time after her attempted murder conviction. Otto will likely be in high school before she’ll have a chance at parole. While the boy barely talks about his mom, he still visits his grandma a few times a week. When I have Edith almost two years after Ike, Otto is quick to tell everyone how we came up with the name.
He’s also pretty proud of the name he gives the kitten we adopt.
“We’ll call her Puppy,” he says, smiling at Donovan.
Donovan laughs, and I see the pride in his eyes. He still can’t believe anyone accepts the real him. Otto, though, idealizes the man he calls “dad” after Ike starts saying the word.
“You’ve got a lot of people wrapped around your finger,” I whisper one night when cuddling in bed. “Not bad for such an anti-social guy.”
Donovan smiles at my teasing. He’s still more likely to stand in the back during a club meeting or family function. With the kids and me, he’s the leader of the pack. I no longer worry about him bailing. He knows where his heart belongs and how
he’ll always be accepted.
Epilogue
Donovan
A man is bound to be a little bitter when he thinks about a bad past. Especially a blessed man like me. I see how easily loving Journey comes. How casually she cherishes our children. How easily I reach out to give the kids a touch or say a kind word. It takes nearly nothing to make them smile. How could it have been so difficult for the people around me growing up?
Most days, I don’t think about what I didn’t have as a kid. I’m too busy keeping up with all the people who love and need me now. Journey is a tough woman and rarely flinches from a battle. She has her sisters to keep her entertained and her mom to play sounding board. Her dad has gotten in the habit of stopping by for dinner once a week. Journey’s life is full of love, but I’m the one she holds closest. At the end of the day, I’m the person to make her weak and primal. Her common sense goes out of the window, and she lets someone else lead. The trust she has for me is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
Though watching her with our kids is a close second. Even nine months pregnant, she shoots hoops with Otto and me. Not only that, but she kicks our asses.
“I was on the basketball team for a short time in high school,” she says, making another three-pointer.
“We’re screwed,” I tell Otto.
“I’m worried the baby will fall out when she does that.”
Otto is very concerned about babies dropping out of Journey during both of her pregnancies. He always looks ready to dive and catch the baby if something goes wrong. Journey doesn’t help by waddling around, pretending to feel something digging its way out. She even has Poppy handing her things to cork up her vagina.
Kitty and I adjust well to our new family. The dog seemed content in the old house, even if he was alone most days. I realize now I’d done the same to him as my parents did to me. Kitty loves having people around. If someone goes outside, he follows. If the kids play, he runs with them. If the sisters get into a silly screaming match, he howls. Kitty is in heaven with our new situation, and I feel like an asshole to have left him lonely for so long.
The club proves to be trickier shit than dealing with my family. Two clubs exist now, though no one says much about the divide. The older guys do their thing, playing like they’re in charge. Court and the newer guys call the shots most days. I doubt Joe even knows when we expand territory or take out a troublemaker. He’s president in name only, more retired than in charge.
Court’s a good leader. He doesn’t hold my hand or treat anyone like a child. He’s kicked a few asses when guys went off script to make their own moves. Once he even scared the shit out of one of the older guys. Times are changing, and the new blood is keeping the Rawkfist MC from becoming a memory.
In a lot of ways, I guess I’m still following orders. Journey runs the house. Court runs the club. I don’t mind them taking charge. I prefer skulking in the background most days. When Court needs someone to learn a lesson in a loud public way, he sends Emmett. If he wants things done quietly, he calls me.
At home, I’m the quiet guy people trust. I don’t need to be loud, not in a family full of Earlham women. I know my purpose in both my family and the club.
Journey’s stubbornness forced us to stay together long enough to work things out. Now I understand my strengths. Because of Journey, I no longer waste time pretending to be anyone besides the guy in the mirror.
About Bijou
Living in Indiana with my three sweet sons, three wacky cats, one super mom (and her ugly dog), I love cats, Denny's, 1970's rock, Beanie Boos, and sitcoms cancelled before their time.
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Bijou Hunter Books
Rawkfist MC Series
Black Sheep * Snake Charmer
Serrated Brotherhood MC Series
Bourbon Blues
Damaged Series
Damaged and the Beast * Damaged and the Knight
Damaged and the Cobra * Damaged and the Outlaw
Damaged and the Dragon * Damaged and the Bulldog
Damaged and the Saint * In the Wind * Sunday Morning
Little Memphis MC Series
Little Memphis * Broken Memphis
Ramsey Security Series
Thunderstruck * Live Wire * High Voltage
Standalones
Gator * Used * Rebound Biker * Junkyard Dog * Lost Highway