Conquering Circumstances: Black Shamrocks MC Novella

by Kylie Hillman

  Once she’s out of sight, I sink into the nearest chair in the waiting room and cradle my head in my hands. What if she’s not fine? What if it all goes wrong? What if pushing her into having the surgery was the wrong thing to do? What if...

  “Dad,” my daughter’s voice breaks through my impending meltdown. She lays a hand on my shoulder, pats once, before removing her touch altogether. It fucks with my head, stoking my guilty conscience and reminding me of all I’ve done, when I remember that, not even a year ago, she would’ve wrapped her arms around me and tried to take my pain away with her love.

  Looking up, I see that all five of my kids have come. Just like I asked. Once my woman agreed to save her life, I knew the kids needed to be here to support her. Getting a message through their wall of protection had been my main mission in life—other than looking after Wendy—during the past eight weeks. In the end, I’d needed to enlist Conan and Viking’s help, something that was going to cost me dearly in the near future. It was a price I was willing to pay because I knew if I mentioned Wendy they would come, no questions asked. In spite of their hatred of me.

  “Baby girl. I’m so thankful you came.” I shoot her a small, gratitude-filled smile, as growling breaks out at the back of their group. The boys part and fucking Mad Dog strides next to my girl. His Old Lady, possibly his fiancée again. I wouldn’t know. Information about the kids I fucked over and then deserted has been scarce.

  “Beast,” he greets me. Green-eyed fucking envy takes hold of me when I spy the President’s patch sewn proudly on the left lapel of his cut. My patch. My position. My beautiful daughter gazing up at him with adoring eyes similar to the one’s she used to give me. I fucking hate him with every fibre of my being, and one look in his cold, hard hazel eyes tells me the feeling’s mutual. “Cut to the fucking chase before I decide that your time’s up.”

  “Fuck you. I never asked for you to come. This is family business.” I spit the word family at him, pushing to my feet, so I’m not at a height disadvantage from sitting.

  He throws his head back and laughs, “Family? What the fuck would you know about family? Me and Lainey are raising your boys for you. I’m running your club and—”

  “How about you both put your dicks away, and we find out what’s wrong with Wendy?” my baby girl’s twin, my eldest son, and the heir-apparent, who ended up selling me out cuts off Mad Dog. “I’m three days clear of rehab. Listening to you two fuckers fight over who’s got the bigger cock will send me back there.”

  Facing Benji for the first time since he threw his true feelings at me, and then left me to deal with a dead body for him, I’m shocked as all hell to see him wearing a Black Shamrocks MC cut proclaiming him as a prospect. I thought he would’ve run from the Club first chance he got. Throwing me for a further loop is the little blonde tucked under his arm. Connor’s ex-Old Lady. Fuck me dead. The surprises just keep coming.

  “Wendy’s having surgery.” Suddenly tired, my heart aching from all the developments in their lives that I haven’t been around to witness, I aim my words at my daughter, but say them loud enough for the boys to hear. “That’s why I wanted you to come. She didn’t want you to know, but I felt you should. She finished chemo for breast cancer two weeks ago, and today she’s having the cancer removed.”

  I leave unsaid exactly what she’s having removed as I stop talking long enough for them to deal with the shock I can see written all over them. They’re all old enough to figure most of the details out for themselves, so I don’t go into depth about her diagnosis. We’ve been down this road before with their mother.

  “How did you find out she was sick?” Joel, my middle son, questions me with hate in his eyes. I size him up. While he’s standing still, I can’t find any sign of his physical limitations, except for his missing fingers. It’s when he makes his way to a chair near me, exhaustion clear on his face, that I can see that he hasn’t made much progress with his physio for his injuries. The black circles under his eyes and the worried look baby girl sends his way confirming my assessment.

  “Well?” Lachie, my youngest boy, speaks up. He stands with my seventeen-year-old son, Matty. The two are inseparable so I wouldn’t expect to find them anywhere but next to each other. “How did you know? I thought you ditched her when you left us?”

  Lachie’s now the spitting image of me like the rest of my boys and six inches taller than he was the last time I saw him. Swallowing the lump that’s made its way into my throat, I give him a quick smile to test his reaction. He narrows his eyes to glare at me, and my heart drops into my boots. A final glance Matty’s way, and his resulting move behind Mad Dog tells me that I’ve lost all of them.

  The stupid hope I’d let grow when Conan said they would come in response to my message dies. They’re here because of Wendy, and only her.

  “I’ve been looking after her. Taking her to get treatment, and all that shit.”

  “That explains why we’ve barely seen her.” Baby girl tells her brothers. Her bright blue eyes—the eyes I passed onto all of them—light up and she grabs Mad Dog’s arm. “I was scared she was wallowing at home alone.”

  The light in her eyes dulls when she looks at me. “Are you back together?”

  It’s pretty fucking clear from her expression—and that of my sons—that the idea of Wendy and I getting back together is not a pleasing one.

  I guess it’s now or fucking never. Time for the shit to hit the fan. “Yeah, we are. And—”

  My next sentence is swallowed by the uproar that breaks out in the waiting room. After giving them a few minutes to get it out of their system, I stick two of my fingers between my lips and let out an ear-splitting whistle that brings silence to the room immediately.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I bark at them. Meeting each set of blue eyes, one at a time, starting from youngest and ending with my oldest, I let each of them know with a firm gaze that I am still their parent. It doesn’t matter what goes down, that’ll never change. “What me and Wendy do affects you guys, I get that. She gets that. Which is why I need you on board. My woman needs us to bury the hatchet so we can look after her.”

  Staring down my daughter, I wait for her to argue. She’s the one who’s going to determine how this goes. Her brothers will follow her lead; Mad Dog will see to it.

  “Baby girl?”

  “I wish you’d stop calling me that,” she replies. Did I say my heart was in my boots before? With that comment, it digs its way into the ground and tunnels for fucking China. I’ve called her “baby girl” since the day she was born and nothing else. She’s severing our final connection. “I’m Maddi. Your ruined child. Remember?”

  What I said in my defence all those months ago comes back and bites me in the ass. Hard. I never meant the words when I said them; it was my attempt to defend the indefensible. It’s time to do something I never do...take responsibility.

  “I’m sorry. For everything. I’m going to make up for it.”

  Shock colors all of their faces for the second time in minutes, so I seize the temporary quiet to drive my points home.

  “Wendy needs us to pull together until she gets over this. This surgery is the big one, but we have the reconstructive surgery to get through as well. Once that’s done, I’m laying my sins on the table and taking whatever the Shamrocks dish out.”

  “That’s not your decision to make,” Mad Dog reminds me. “We’ve already voted.”

  “If you want to bring Thomas Taylor down, you’ll meet my terms.”

  The mention of the corrupt Police Commissioner I plotted with to frame him sets his lips in a tight line. He bunches his fists and takes a step closer to me. Baby girl slides an arm around his waist, and presses herself into his side to stop him. Benji places a hand on his chest and stands between us when it looks like he’s not going to heed the pleas she’s whispering in his ear.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I wait for his answer.

  “I’ll take your bait, for now, and play your sick lit
tle game. Just don’t expect it to go the way you plan. I’m making the rules this time.”

  I shrug. Playing games is what I’ve spent my life doing. It’s all I know. “I want my woman back properly. No more of this hiding shit. If it takes a few games to get it, I’m willing to play.”

  “At the cost of your own head?”

  Waving my hand around the room at my kids, I lay it all out. “My kids and my woman. That’s all I want now. If I can’t have them, I’m better off dead anyway.”

  Baby girl gasps and ducks her head into Mad Dog’s neck, hiding her face. Benji’s mouth falls open, and my two youngest turn white as the implications of what I said sinks in. Joel, on the other hand, breaks into bellows of laughter.

  We all turn to look at him, waiting until he gets control of himself.

  “It always comes down to what you want. Some things will never change.” Holding out a misshapen hand to Matty, he lets his brother pull him to his feet. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help Wendy, but I can’t be in the same room as this cockhead. Someone come get me when she’s out of surgery.”

  His declaration hangs in the air, making the already tense atmosphere feel heavier. I watch him limp his way to the door, and then through it. It swings shut behind him when he leaves without so much as a backward glance in my direction.

  This is going to go to hell in a hand basket. I can feel it in my bones. My stomach churns, making me feel sick. Adrenaline sparks and shoots to my extremities when Benji closes the distance between us. Standing on the balls of my feet, I curl my hands into fists, ready for whatever he’s about to throw at me.

  We’re the same height, standing eye to eye, so when he glares at me with unrestrained loathing, I feel the full impact of it. “I said all I wanted to say to you last time we spoke. Every word still stands.”

  He presents me with his back, dismissing me. Grabbing his woman’s hand, he echo’s his brother’s sentiments while he drags her to the exit. “I’m in. I’ll be waiting with Joel.”

  Matty and Lachie take one step after him before pausing. Shooting a quick glance their sister’s way, I watch their wordless exchange before they incline their heads in response to the silent question her raised right eyebrow is asking them. The sigh that leaves her tells me everything I need to know. My two youngest boys are in agreement with their big brother’s.

  It’s a hollow victory—if it can even be called a win—but it gives me something to work with. That’s more than I had before they arrived.

  “Dad.” She sounds unsure when she says the word, and it kills me. Of all my wrongs, she’s the one I hurt the most. “We’ll wait with you.”

  Retaking my original seat, I lean my head back against the wall and shut my eyes. The interconnected row of chairs wobble as they sit. Lips moving with unspoken words, I begin to pray, over and over, that this is the start of a new beginning—one with a healthy, happy woman and the chance to make amends to my kids. Warm fingers wrapping around my hand tell me that God’s listening, and he’s decided to grant me the opportunity to pursue my second goal—starting with my baby girl. I squeeze her fingers in thanks and settle in, anxious to look into Wendy’s brown eyes again, knowing that I’ve begun the slow process of putting our family back together for her.

  Pain like I’ve never felt before ricochets through my chest, throbbing in time with my heart beat. Blinking slowly, I force myself to open my eyes. Something important happened today. Something that explains why I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.

  “Hey there, little lady. Welcome back.”

  Turning my head in the direction of Patrick’s voice, I squeak when the small movement makes the pain increase, and I remember why I hurt. My breasts were removed today, along with my ovaries and my uterus. Surprisingly the thought of what I’ve lost doesn’t upset me as much as I’d expected it to. The man leaning over me plays a big part in that, with his unwavering support and affection.

  “Shhh. Stay still.” His big hand pushes my hair off my forehead. Bending down he plants a kiss on it. “I have a surprise for you.”

  My mouth falls open when first Madelaine steps into view, followed by my boys and Mikhail. Worry emanates from them all, eclipsed only by the love that’s clear for me to see in all of their eyes.

  “We’re not even going to say a word about you hiding this from us,” Madelaine tells me in a soft tone. “We’re just glad you’re going to be okay.”

  No sound leaves me when I try to speak. Coughing as much as the agony in my chest will allow, I try again. “I’m happy you’re all here.”

  It’s unbelievable. All of us in the same room, together again. My biggest wish, aside from surviving, has been granted. It becomes obvious that my thoughts are displayed on my face when Madelaine speaks up again, this time with urgency in her voice.

  “This is only because of you,” she gestures toward her brothers and Mikhail. They nod their accord with their self-appointed spokeswoman’s statement. “Nothing else has changed.”

  “Okay.”

  My easy agreement is at odds with the hope that’s overwhelming me. They might believe they’re only here for me, and on the surface that may be true, however, I grasp the significance of this development. Searching for Patrick’s gaze, I smile at him when he meets my eyes.

  I make sure my approval is clear for him to see. The softening of the deep lines around his eyes and the way one side of his top lip lifts ever so slightly tells me that he reads me with ease. The first signs of happiness take up residence in his aura, reducing the knot that’s lived inside my stomach ever since we started sneaking around.

  “While I’ve got everyone here,” Patrick’s strained tone pulls me back to the here and now. “I have something I want to ask Wendy.”

  The children turn to him with wide eyes that match my own. He pulls a velvet covered box from his right pocket and cracks the lid. A large, shiny diamond ring is revealed.

  “Wendy Markham. You’re my second chance at true love, and I can’t go another minute without righting the wrong that I’ve done you. It’s taken me too fucking long to sort my shit out, but I have. I want to make an honest woman of you—something that I should’ve done years ago.”

  Dropping to one knee, his next words set my heart racing, and my stomach fills with butterflies, despite the pain that I’m still vaguely aware of wracking my body. “Will you marry me? Will you be my little lady, officially and for fucking ever?

  I can hear the words he’s saying. They make my heart dance with delight, but I can also hear the cries of dismay and the curse words that leave our children’s mouths. They’re not happy with this turn of events, at all.

  Using effort and energy I can’t really afford to waste, I angle my aching body so I can take in the full scene in front of me. My boys are shaking their heads, and Madelaine appears torn between happiness and anger. Unshed tears make her eyes look glassy.

  “What do you say?” Patrick asks again, struggling to be heard above the angry mutterings that fill the room. He sends a quelling glare toward the children, stopping once they have quietened. “Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks. Tell me your answer. Yes or no? Truthfully.”

  When he phrases it like that, there is only one honest response. I’m fuzzy-headed from the anaesthetic and the pain meds circulating my system. I still need another surgery to reconstruct my missing breasts. I don’t know if I’m clear of the cancer yet. And, I definitely haven’t a clue how to handle the children’s negative reaction. However, none of the uncertainty changes the fact that there is only one truthful answer to be found in my heart.

  “Yes, Patrick. My answer is yes.”

  To Be Continued...

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  “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll; I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

  ~William Ernest Henley~

  Revenge. The vindictive pleasure it brings has been many a man’s downfall. Its seductive nature, the power it imbues, the satisfaction that settles in your bones knowing that you’ve settled the score, is a craving that’s hard to resist.

  My man is strong. Stronger than any I’ve ever known yet I fear his need for retribution is going to beat him. The Club needs a leader they can trust, a man who sticks to his word, a champion of their code of honour. Me, well, I need my lover, my partner, my soul mate to put me first. He needs to be the master of our destiny, the keeper of our fate, while I’m lost in my grief and confusion.

  It’s not fair. I know it’s not. Yet, even knowing how much he needs to avenge the wrongs that were brought down on our head—the deception that threatened to tear the Shamrocks apart—I can’t give him what he’s asking for.

  My blessing.

  To kill my father.

  Every fibre of my being accepts that he’s my soul mate. My matching half. The yin to my yang. We both acknowledge that our destiny was sealed when I was just a girl. However, if he continues with his pursuit of vengeance, I fear the outcome will do more than tempt our fate.

  It’ll destroy our future.

  The wind and my woman at my back.

  There’s no better feeling.

  Gripping my ape-hangers, I manoeuvre my Harley to the head of the pack and accelerate. Fuck riding behind Timber right now. Fuck riding with anyone but Lainey. She’s the only person who matters to me, my sole reason for breathing.