by LeAnn Ashers
“Nothing different than the others have done.” He smirks at all of us. “The way she screamed—”
I pull out my gun and put a bullet between his eyes. “FUCK!” I roar, and I punch a hole in the wall.
“Why the fuck did people hurt her, man?” I yell in this stupid fucking house. I feel like I am burning from the inside out with anger and horror over what she went through.
“Dad,” Lane says, and I turn around and look at my son. He looks concerned because I fucking snapped for a few seconds. “Gigi is strong, Dad. She suffered a fucking lot, but let’s have fun destroying these fuckers.”
I smile. I know she is strong. She is the strongest woman I have ever met, but my every single instinct is to protect her and to destroy all the pitiful fucking excuses for human beings that have her hurt her.
I look over at the man lying on the fucking floor with a bullet in his head. Two down. I walk to a back bedroom. Techy is at my back.
“This was Alisha’s room.” He slips by me and walks into her bedroom.
I walk into the next bedroom, and I know this was Adeline’s room. Fucking sad the way they lived. She had a window in her room, but it’s boarded up with only a small crack to look outside. Her closet has a book at the top, and I reach up and take it out. It’s a photo album filled with pictures of Alisha when she was young. Adeline will want this.
“What is that?” Techy asks, and I hold out the book. He opens it, immediately smiling at the sight of his wife.
I walk back into the living room. Butcher is pouring gasoline on top of the fucker and the couches. They see me and file out of the house. I follow them and, standing on the porch, I throw my zippo lighter onto the couch. Fire immediately swarms the room.
“Next stop: her parents’,” I tell them, and they nod and follow me down the road. Her parents lived right down the fucking road from their daughter, and they had to know what kind of life she was living. I want to burn down this whole fucking town, and I am going to do everything I can to bring down the people running it. This can’t go on much longer. People shouldn’t live this way, and these kids shouldn’t have to suffer because of the huge drug problem. These mothers really have only one way to support their kids: by selling themselves. It’s shocking the number of women lining the streets; some look younger than eighteen. It’s sickening.
We stop outside another run-down trailer. It is brown, and I don’t think it’s by choice. An older lady, her hair down past her waist, opens the door. She is wearing a very dirty shirt with holes. “Who are you and what do you want?” she yells, stepping onto her porch, which sinks slightly.
“I am here to speak to you.” I march across the small yard, which is a few feet from the dirt road.
Her eyes widen as she looks us over. She turns around, trying to run back into the house but, in a split second, my foot is holding the door ajar.
“Well shit, tell me what you want.”
I push the door open all the way, not liking the fact that someone could be hidden behind it. “I want to fucking talk.”
“Come on in,” she says sarcastically. We follow her inside the house, which smells fucking awful. We turn the corner into her living room; this shit is fucking nasty. The floor is almost black with dirt and god-knows-what. This used to be carpet at one point, but it’s covered in so much grime that its completely hard. The walls are blackened with grime and filth.
She sits down on the couch, lights a cigarette, and looks at us. “Out with it.” She puffs on her cigarette, giving us the fucking stare-down.
“Remember your daughter Adeline?” I ask her.
She throws her head back laughing. “What about her? She died, didn't she?”
What the ever-living fuck? “No she didn’t die, dumb bitch. She is my woman.”
Her face falls as she looks at me. “You?” Her eyes settle on my vest with the president patch on it. She chuckles under her breath. “Well, she must have learnt to suck a good dick after all.”
This woman is a pure piece of shit. She knew what was happening to her daughter and did nothing. This makes me fucking sick.
I take out my gun and point it at her head. She drops her cigarette. “Tell me why I shouldn’t blow your fucking brains out right now.” I won’t do it. I won’t hurt a woman no matter how much I hate the bitch. Doesn’t mean I can’t scare her.
“Please don’t kill me,” she says, fake tears rolling down her face. Then, all of a sudden, I hear a piercing cry from the back of the house. “Fuck me, that stupid baby.” She’s done faking it.
I put the gun back in my holster. “Baby?” I ask her.
She takes another huge puff of her cigarette. “My fucked-up older-than-shit husband fucked a prostitute down the road. She died giving birth to the baby, and then he died too, leaving me with the kid.”
What the fuck? I look at Techy, who is just as shocked. One way or another, this is Adeline’s little brother, and blood is fucking blood.
I follow the cry to the back bedroom. I push open the half-broken-down door and, right in the middle of the bed, is a baby—so tiny it looks like a newborn. Lying next to him is a bottle filled with milk. His little face is dirty.
There is absolutely no way am I leaving him here. I take out my phone and call Adeline. “Hey, baby!” she answers, sounding so happy.
“I decided to confront your parents, and there is a newborn baby here. It’s fucked up.” There was no way to break the ice or say it gently.
“Oh my god.” She is silent for a moment. “I can’t believe this. Bring him to me, Smiley. He can’t have the life I did.”
“I will, sweet girl. You want to get the girls together and a couple of prospects to get stuff he needs? My credit card in one of the drawers in my office.”
“I will, Smiley. I can’t believe that I have a brother, and I never would have known. It was fate you went there,” she whispers into the phone.
“I will be home soon, baby.” After we hang up, I call one of the brothers to drive out to her, bringing his truck with a car seat.
“You guys going to take him?” Techy asks me. “If you guys aren’t, Alisha and I will.”
“Adeline and I are going to take him in.”
He smiles, “Like Gigi would allow him to go anywhere else. This is fate because it can be her second chance. That’s all she has ever wanted: to be a mom.”
He is right; she regretted so much with Alisha. I call one last person, and that is my lawyer. We are pulling some major strings.
Going through the bedroom, I find one diaper, wipes, and some clothes that are clean, believe it or not, along with enough formula and water for one bottle.
This house is so fucking filthy; this bed is filthy. I pick up the baby, and he opens his eyes, staring at me. The more I see of his condition, the sicker I get. This house is a fucking ice block, and he is wearing only a onesie; his skin is cold. I lay a small receiving blanket over him.
Lane is standing next to me. “Fucking sad that he is even here. I don’t even want to think about how long he was lying here.”
“Fuck. I know, Lane. Coming here I was expecting to beat the shit out of her father, but we found him.”
I take off his clothes; he is fucking tiny. Grabbing some wipes, I start wiping him down as best I can until he can take a bath. “Can you tell Myra to come to the house and check him out?” I tell Lane, and he takes out his phone and texts her. Myra is the ole lady of one of the Devil Souls members, and she is a doctor.
I change his diaper next and put on some cleaner clothes. He doesn’t cry the whole time; he just looks at me. I lay him down on my lap and pour the water into a bottle that Lane cleaned for me. I add the formula and shake the bottle. I set the bottle on the counter, put the baby in the crook of my arm, and stand up. “I am going to tell her what’s up,” I tell Lane.
“She never even fucking asked what you were doing back here.”
I wrap the baby in the receiving blanket again and place the bottle to his l
ips, and he immediately latches on. Then I walk back into the living room. Adeline’s mother watches me carrying the baby, looking completely indifferent.
“Here’s the deal: a lawyer will be here in an hour, and you will be signing over your rights, because you do have guardianship of him, correct?”
She nods.
“Then he is leaving with me.”
“Fine.” She shrugs like I am asking her a fucking question about the mail. Pathetic.
Adeline
Getting that phone call from Smiley is something that I never expected. I never dreamed that he would go to my parents’ house and I would have a newborn baby brother. But my first thought, when he told me this, was he had to get the baby out of that situation. I would go there myself, if I had to, and take him away. My childhood was pure shit. My mom would feed me when she thought about it, and I survived until I was old enough to take care of myself.
I just spent the last two hours trying to get everything we need for him: formula, diapers, clothes, a bed, and a small bathtub. It was a lot to do in such a short time. The girls helped all they could, and now I am just waiting on Smiley to get here. He will be here any minute.
It’s hard to believe that I am going to be taking care of a baby again, my brother no less. I am so excited.
The door opens, and I jump up when I see Smiley standing there with a small bundle in his arms. I cover my mouth with my hands and walk over to look at him. “He is so beautiful.” Smiley smiles, setting him gently in my arms.
I fall in love in that second, and the world stands still. He is perfect. You can see my dad in his features, but he is beautiful, so tiny. “He is so small,” I whisper, my finger running up his cheek.
Smiley kisses the top of my head, wrapping his arms around both of us. “Myra will be here soon to check him over.”
“Good. I don’t know how my mother took care of him—knowing her, she did the bare minimum. Do you know how old he is?” I ask, smiling at this sweet little face.
“Two weeks,” he tells me, just as there is a knock at the door. Smiley opens the door, and Myra comes in with Ryan, who is carrying a bag.
Behind them is Mia, their daughter. “Gigi!” she yells, running into my legs. I laugh and touch the top of her head. “How is my girl?”
“I missed my gigi.” She hugs me a little tighter.
“I missed my baby.” I sit down on the couch, holding the infant, and help Mia up next to me.
“Baby?” She tilts her head to the side, studying the baby and me.
“Yes, a baby.” I lean toward her so she can look at him more closely, and she smiles. Her missing two front teeth make her unbelievably cute.
“He cute.” She gently touches his finger.
“He sure is, doll.” I smile at her, and she lays her head on my shoulder.
“I swear you’re literally an angel,” Myra says. “All of the kids talk about Gigi all day long.” I feel like I am a hundred feet tall.
“They are my babies.” I smile at her, and she smiles back and sits down on the couch next to me.
“May I?” Myra reaches out for the baby, and I set him gently in her arms. She puts the blanket on the floor and checks him over. I hide my face when she does blood-work on him. His little cry is heartbreaking. “Do you know what hospital he was born in?” Myra asks.
Smiley shakes his head. “We think he was born at his mother’s house, where she passed away.”
Myra’s face falls. “How horrible,” she whispers, looking down at him sadly. “He doesn’t have any records, does he?”
Smiley shakes his head. This is such a messed-up situation. It’s really heartbreaking that the mother never even had a chance to go to the hospital, and she had been forced into prostitution. That is the way of life where I grew up. There is nothing there, no means of support unless you sell yourself. Almost every single person has turned to drugs to bear their life there; it’s really sad.
“Tomorrow can you bring him by my office? I need to give him shots. But right now he is unhealthy. He needs to eat more, that is for sure.”
“Thank you so much and I will bring him by for you.” I take him from her and lay him against my chest, snuggling with him.
“Congrats, Momma.” She winks and my heart jumps because she is right. I am getting my ultimate wish. I am starting over; I am going to be a mother again. God works in mysterious ways, and maybe all of this was meant to happen so I can have him?
Smiley shuts the door, leaving us alone once again. “Bath?” I ask.
“Bath.” He picks up the little bathtub I bought, and I grab a small towel and some shampoo and body wash. I put a long-sleeved onesie, a blanket, a diaper, and lotion on the couch for when he is done.
When I walk into the kitchen, Smiley has the bathtub on the counter filling with water. Does he even want to do this with me?
“Smiley, is this what you want? You don’t have to do this with me.” I hate the idea of not being with Smiley, but this baby is going to be in my life. That isn’t a choice.
He looks at me, turns off the water, and splits the distance between us. “Baby, I want to be here. You’re my woman, you’re my fucking life, right along with my kids. No way would I leave you. One day, and one day soon, my ring is going to be on that finger.”
He just left me speechless. I stare at him with my mouth open. He chuckles, and his finger curls under my chin, closing my mouth. “Come on, baby, let’s get him cleaned up.”
Smiley lays down a towel on the countertop, and I lay the baby down and gently take off his clothes and diaper. His eyes are open, and his little arms are moving. “Aww, is he cold?” I coo. I lift him up and set him gently into the bath, in the cloth net.
“It’s so hard to believe that I am doing this all over again, he is such a good little baby.” He hasn’t even cried since he has been here.
“We are doing this all over again.”
“We,” I say softly, and you couldn’t take the smile off my face no matter how much you tried. Smiley is right here with me.
“Fuck, it’s been so long since I bathed a baby, my kids were small then.”
I laugh. “Times have changed, they didn’t have all of this stuff back then.”
“We have to name him,” Smiley says. I lift him out of the tub, and he immediately starts crying. Smiley takes him from me, wrapping him up.
“Noah?” I suggest. It was the first thing that popped into my head.
He smiles. “I love it, baby.”
I guess Noah it is. I look at the clock on the wall, and it’s nine o’clock. “I didn’t realize how late it was. We need to set up the bassinet.”
“I will do that while you feed him,” Smiley suggests. I take out some bottles that I cleaned before Smiley got here.
“I am going to go put his clothes on him, sweet girl.” Smiley walks toward the living room, and I tilt my head, staring at his ass.
I fix Noah’s bottle, shaking it as I walk into the living room. Smiley is bent over putting on his little diaper, talking to him. “I’m going to make you the same promise I made to my other two kids. I promise to protect you, fight for you, and pick you up when you’re hurt but push you to try again. Most of all I will love you with all of my heart.”
Oh my god…
I didn’t think I could fall for him any more than I already had, but hearing him make this promise to a baby he just met makes me love him even more. He has taken on this huge role—he is just such an amazing person.
“Here we go, sweetheart,” I say, like I just walked into the room. Smiley zips him up, and I sit down on the couch, holding him in my arms. “Are you hungry?” I ask him, and he lets out a little cry. He is so cute. “Here, sweet boy.” I press the bottle to his lips. I sway from side to side, humming under my breath, and his eyes close. It’s hard to think that yesterday I didn't even know he existed, and here he is, in my arms.
Smiley is adding the finishing touches to the bassinet. “I will put the bassinet in the b
edroom next to ours, baby. We can set up the monitor. Tomorrow, we will get the stuff we need for the nursery and get that set up.”
He carries the bed upstairs and, taking out a burp cloth, I pull the bottle out of Noah’s mouth. I sit him up gently, patting and rubbing his back until he burps. “Nobody wants gas, do we.” I kiss the top of his head, loving the baby smell.
After I feed him the rest of the bottle, I take out a paci that I bought and put it in his mouth, and he clutches my hand. I stand up, yawning. Smiley is bringing all of Noah’s stuff into his new bedroom. He sets the bassinet in the middle of the room; it’s a gray color that is actually perfect. We just need to move the bed out of here, put in a crib, and decorate.
“Tomorrow me and the guys will move the bed out of here, so we can go shopping for whatever else is needed,” Smiley whispers, not wanting to wake up the baby.
I gently lay Noah in the bed. I turn around, burying my head in Smiley’s chest. I just want him to hold me, and I don’t want to think of how Noah was treated before Smiley got to him.
I am curious how my mother was, but I also know how she is deep down. The permanent scowl on her face, the meanness and anger just pouring off of her.
I remember being really young, sneaking into the kitchen for food because she forgot to feed me all day long. When I needed new shoes, she would tell me to suffer because I shouldn’t have worn those shoes out, even though I’d had the same pair for two years and they were way too small. I would go to the dump and scavenge whatever I could find to make do. I had to make my own bras because she never bought me one. It was hell, but I’d take my childhood over the hell I suffered at the hands of Alisha’s dad. I never knew what peace was like until I went to rehab. I remember sitting on the edge of the bed, like what do I do? I had never even gotten a chance to be bored. How do you do that when you’re so used to walking on eggshells?
“Come on, sweet girl, you need to rest.” Smiley leads me out of the room. I peek in on Noah one more time and carry the monitor.