by Jc Emery
“I feel like a tool for thinking he might be onto something,” he says as I drag the bar of soap over his taut skin.
“Take that to the club and let them vote on it,” I say without even thinking about it. If he brings it up during church, the club will have to give it consideration, and then at least it can be off his shoulders and no longer solely his burden to bear. I can tell he’s holding something back with the way he’s so tense and frustrated, but I don’t bring it up. He’ll bring it to me when he’s good and ready and not a second beforehand.
Once he’s all clean and he’s helped me wash his hair, I use his body as leverage to steady myself as I sink to my knees. For years, he’d buddy up to me at the clubhouse and playfully tell me I should suck his dick. And for years I’d seriously tell him to go suck his own dick. And after a few minutes of chitchat, he’d wander off. Sometimes I’d see him with another woman and sometimes he’d be with two or more. And they’d suck his dick, they’d ride him, he’d ride them, and they’d fuck each other. And because sucking dick is a lot of work for little reward, I don’t like doing it. But right now I want to give him something I never have. And since I’ve given him my heart and maybe even a piece of my flesh, I want to give him this.
He looks down at me with hooded eyes, watching as I circle the head of his shaft and draw him in. I drag it out, pumping and licking and sucking as long as I can, but eventually my jaw tires. Placing soft kisses along his shaft I say, “I’m going to make you forget anyone else has ever been here.” I wrap my mouth around him, swirling my tongue over his head, and within a minute, he explodes in my mouth and I drink him in.
It isn’t until we’re both clean and tucked into bed that he tells me about Chief and he holds me while I cry for the first time in years.
Chapter 19
“No, for real—what the fuck, Nicole?” Duke snaps angrily from the other side of the door. “You haven’t been peeing for at least five minutes. You can’t tell me you still have to pee. We got shit to do.”
I cast a sideways glance at the locked bathroom door and for the hundredth time, look at the pregnancy test in my hands. The blue positive sign that showed up less than a minute after I finished peeing on the damn thing is practically mocking me.
“Just another minute,” I say in a shaky voice.
Last night the possibility of being pregnant wasn’t so scary, because Duke was suffering some kind of crisis and he needed me. But now that he’s back to being pushy and bossy, I’m thinking more clearly. And thinking more clearly when I’m holding a positive pregnancy test in my hands pretty much equates to me freaking the fuck out because I’m so not ready for this shit. This was never something I thought I wanted, but now that it’s here, a tiny part of me thinks I might want it. A piece of Duke and me together—bossy and mouthy, and stubborn as can be—makes fear-induced spinning stop. And I think… maybe? I don’t know. Maybe I could do this right. But maybe I can’t, and the thought of fucking up an entire human being is terrifying.
My mother was a club favorite for another club somewhere south of here in the Bay Area, and that’s how she ended up with me. When she met the man who became my dad—Butch Whelan—she was supposed to stop that shit. Even after she’d had Jeremy and taken on the domestic role, she was still wild as all get out. It didn’t seem to matter that my dad would come home every night and tuck both me and my brother into bed before he headed back out. It didn’t seem to matter that he put a roof over her head and food in her belly and gave her enough spending money that she could blow on stupid porcelain dolls from QVC. None of that seemed to matter. She’s a whore who likes a whore’s lifestyle, and because of that she couldn’t handle the mommy role, nor could she handle the wife role—and she left. From what she told me about my grandmother before she split, my grandmother left her, too. I don’t know what caused that, but if genes have anything to do with it, I’d be willing to bet that dear old grandma was a whore, too. And whores have no business raising kids. So instead of perpetuating the cycle, I’d decided to take myself out of the loop. Or, I thought I had. But now?
Nothing makes sense, but nothing’s spinning.
Duke’s heavy boots clop against the carpeted floor as he paces outside the bathroom. It was almost ten minutes ago when I told him I had to pee real quick. I knew what I was coming in here to do, I just couldn’t handle the ‘what if’ anymore. His boots stop at the door and he throws his knuckles against it again and jiggles the handle.
“What are you doing, taking a shit?” he asks, his tone on edge. My face heats even though I’m not doing what he’s accused me of, and I take one last look at the positive test and toss it in the garbage.
“You’re so fucked,” I whisper, placing my hand on my flat stomach, then I curse myself for the action. I can’t let myself get too attached to this just yet. Duke might not want this, and if he doesn’t want it, I won’t have it. I had a dad who left me and my mom when I was little, then I had a mom who left. The only one who stuck around was a guy who didn’t have to. But he did, and despite how much my dad loved me—formally adopting me and giving me his last name—there’s still a hole there where my mom used to be. Not being wanted fucks people up, and I refuse to do that to my kid. Duke knows that—he wasn’t wanted by his dad, and he’s spent his entire life trying like hell to fit into the only family he’s ever known—the club. It’s selfish to have a kid and give it the job of keeping its parents together. I can’t do that.
And it’s not like I’ve done very well with Jeremy on my own. We had a meeting with his principal that lasted over an hour last week. Apparently, he’s failing his summer class and has no chance of catching up. To make matters worse, he now has Saturday school the next three weekends in a row for telling his teacher to eat a bag of dicks. The principal couldn’t tell me exactly what Jeremy was reacting to, but I could guess. The boy pretty much mouthed off about anything and everything—still, telling his teacher to eat a bag of dicks was kind of an extreme situation. Duke seems to think I’m wearing rose colored glasses when it comes to Jeremy, and maybe I am. He’s a total shit head, but he’s still my brother and I can’t help but wonder if other people are provoking him sometimes. Even though my heart’s in the right place, I’m still screwing him up at every turn.
I check my reflection in the mirror above the sink and quickly braid my hair for the ride to Jim and Ruby’s house. It was probably poor timing to take the test right before we’re leaving, but oh well. After I’d calmed down about Chief last night, I told Duke I wanted to see Alex. I may not know her all that well, but she’s one of the few friends I have who doesn’t know my every dirty little secret.
“Come on, Nic,” Duke shouts. I make mocking faces in the mirror and take a deep breath. Alex being all busted up and bed-ridden makes me antsy, and as much as Duke swears she actually enjoys Ryan’s company, I’m calling bullshit. I have to see for myself, even if that means going inside of Jim and Ruby’s house.
I walk into the hall while buttoning my shirt and adjusting my bra. It’s closing in on August, but the cool weather’s set in again this week, making my summer wardrobe useless right now. I lift my head and see Duke at the end of the hall with a new black helmet in his hands. He hands it off to me and strides to the front door. I fiddle with the straps, careful not to drop it. I know he bought it specifically for me, as he wrote my name on the inside and it’s smaller than the one he wears. I place it on my head as I walk out of the house.
When we pull up at Jim and Ruby’s, there seems to be a flurry of activity going on. It’s not surprising with everything. Unfortunately, Ryan’s bike is among the several that are lined up at the garage. After the shit he pulled at the clubhouse—which I have not forgotten about—I’m not really thrilled about seeing him. I can see a total of three men surveying the property outside. The two guys in the front are fully armed, though they’ve taken some care to disguise their large guns from passersby. Forsaken runs the town, for sure, but there are some atrocities they
can’t commit without ruffling some feathers. Duke cuts off the bike and waits for me to dismount. I take a deep breath and stare at the house. It takes me back to a place in my past that really sucks, but only now does it feel ten times worse than it ever did before.
Jeremy and I had moved into this house when my dad went to county for the run that went bad down in Oakland. It was kind of Jim and Ruby to take us in, and they were good to us while we were here. I just couldn’t get past my own sorrow to see it then.
The club had been making a delivery of the weed they grow outside of town, and the deal went bad. It wouldn’t have been so awful if Dad hadn’t decided to go rouge and figure his own way out of the mess. Now, he’s down in San Quentin and I’m only able to visit him a few times a year because of the distance.
“What’s going on, baby?” Duke asks, craning his neck around. I take a deep breath and climb off the bike then remove my helmet and set it on the handlebars. Duke dismounts and catches me around the waist before I move away from him. I tense at him touching my stomach. It’s impossible for him to know, but the paranoia that he’s going to find me out is way too fucking real.
“Talk to me,” he says from behind me. He pulls me against him and leans his head down to whisper in my ear. The eruption of nerves that sends my belly into a frenzy isn’t anything new. “We’re not moving until you talk to me.”
“The house,” I say, giving in. If it weren’t for Alex being in there waiting on me, I’d let us stand here until morning came, and I’d still not say anything. I can’t explain to him—not here—that being here right now is hard. I’m barely processing the news, and being here? It’s too much and I want to leave.
“You been back since you moved out?” he asks. I just shake my head and refuse to say anything else. I’ll be damned if he’s going to get me to talk about it. He must sense my reluctance or something, because he doesn’t push. He just lets me take a minute to stand here in the dirt driveway and stare at the the house that once tried to be a home.
A few minutes pass, and I take the first step toward the house. This house reminds me of everything I’ve ever lost. Staring at the wood shingles, I remember my dad leaving—my biological dad—even though I was only a toddler. He got sick of my mom’s shit and split. Can’t say I blame him for wanting to ditch her crazy ass, but he left me, too. Then years after that, she left. Then Butch was taken away. And after everybody was gone and the only person I loved that I had left was Jeremy, we were sent here. And it didn’t matter how nice Jim and Ruby were. Being in their house meant I wasn’t in my own, and it meant my dad really was gone, my mother really was a worthless whore, and my sperm donor was gone—and the latter two didn’t want me anyway. So why should I give a fuck, I’ll never know. And that’s how it is when you’re unwanted—it’s a hole that never leaves you.
“You’re acting weird,” he says. I try to shake it off and mumble something about Chief. It’s cheap, using his death as an excuse for my behavior, but it’s all I’ve got.
“You think Ruby’s a good mom?” I ask, because I can’t help myself.
“Sure,” he says. “Why?”
“Just… you think things would be better… all this wouldn’t be happening if…” I say, trailing off. I want to ask him if he thinks anybody can be a good mom. His mom is a real piece of work when she’s around, which isn’t all that frequent. My mom’s a loser. Between the two of us we don’t have a single biological parent who’s worth a shit.
“Shit happens, babe,” he says, closing the discussion down.
I’m heading for the front door when Duke tugs me to the right and opens the sliding glass door in the hallway. I slip in, grateful that he considered the side door, thus avoiding the living room and kitchen, where most of people congregate. With his hand on my lower back, he leads me down the hallway. The door to the bedroom that was once Ryan’s and is now Alex’s is shut. Duke sandwiches me between himself and the door. Looking back at him to take the lead, he shrugs and turns the knob, and pushes the door open.
On the bed, against the far wall, perfectly centered in the room, are Alex and Ryan. They’re lying on their sides, facing each other, and Ryan has Alex’s face cupped in his hands. They’re both smiling like lovesick idiots, which makes me want to be sick on the wood floor. Ryan leans in and places a chaste kiss to her lips and says, “I love you.”
She giggles like crazy and then says it back and pulls him in for a not-so-chaste kiss. Duke told me enough of what Ryan’s done to Alex over the last few months, and while I know better than to repeat what he said, and I can’t openly admonish Ryan for his fucked up behavior, I still imagine kicking him in the balls until he can’t see straight. Fucking asshole.
Turning my head to the side, I whisper to Duke, “Make it stop.” He laughs then clears his throat loudly. Ryan looks over. His jet black hair is all messed up, and his lips are parted. He recovers quickly and narrows his eyes at me. As far as I’m concerned, this shit is payback for what he did a few weeks back, purposefully leading me in to where Duke and Dawn were fucking. My body tenses, and I fight the urge to elbow Duke in the gut. As long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever get that image of that slut riding his cock out of my head.
“Ew,” I say, shaking my head. “I thought you were nobody’s girl.” My eyes are on Ryan as he sits up. His body is as tense as mine. Alex huffs from beside him, knowing the comment was directed at her. She looks from me to Duke and back again like she’s checking us out. I lean forward to try to create a less than obvious separation, but it does no good. He’s just so close.
“Right back at’cha,” she says with a smirk. Her head turns just enough to the right, and my stomach drops. The right side of her face has a few scratches and some minor bruising, but the left side is totally fucked up. The skin around her eye is swollen, and the bruising is a deep purple. Her lip is busted up, and she has no fewer than three large scratches. The skin is bound together by butterfly bandages. My eyes water at the sight.
“I knew you were hurt, I just didn’t know how hurt,” I whisper and cross the room. Carefully, I crawl onto the bed and cross my legs in front of me. Alex places her hands on either side of her hips and starts pulling herself up when Ryan leans over and gently hooks his arms beneath her underarms and pulls her up into a sitting position. He unhooks his arms and lets his hands skim her ribs and belly softly before he removes them.
“I’m okay,” she says and looks back at Ryan. She gives his hand a squeeze. “Really, everything’s okay.” She’s smiling and he’s scowling. But his eyes are focused on her so intently. It’s like he thinks if he keeps looking at her, he’s going to see something else that wasn’t there before. It’s just a moment, but it takes my breath away. In all the years I’ve known Ryan, he’s never looked at anything with that kind of depth—not even Ruby—and I think she’s the only person he’s ever really loved. Until now, that is.
Ryan climbs off the bed and gives Duke a head nod at the doorway.
“Sixty minutes,” Ryan says, staring at me. I can’t help but to roll my eyes at his bossy nature. Sure, he’s a Grade-A bad-ass and all, but he’s also human and he’s clearly capable of being loving toward a woman who’s not his mother.
“Gosh, you really do love her, don’t you?” I say. The glares he shoots my way is anything but pleasant.
“Yeah,” Alex says with a smile on her face. “He really does love me.” Ryan stalks out of the room with Duke following not too far behind.
“You must have bumped your head awful hard,” I say. I keep my eyes on the purple comforter beneath me and pick away at the balls of fuzz. “I can’t believe you’re with Ryan.” She reaches out and swats my arm. My eyes fly up to her face, more than a little surprised that she actually smacked me.
“There’s a lot more to him than you see,” she says, jutting her chin out. I don’t know the girl very well, but so far I like what she’s showing me. I glance over at the now empty doorway and wonder if the same can be said about Du
ke.
“Yeah, but aren’t you just deluding yourself into only seeing what you want to see?”
“Nah,” she says. “My mom loves him, so that tells me there’s something worth loving even during those times he’s a bastard.”
“Ruby loves all of these guys. I wouldn’t trust her judgment,” I say.
“Did you come here to rag on me about Ryan?” she asks. I shift uncomfortably in place and blow out a heavy breath. I’m taking my shit out on her, and that’s not cool.
“Sorry, I just—Duke told me about all the shit that’s gone down,” I admit. She’s had the shit beat out of her already. The last thing she needs is my judgmental ass giving her crap.
“Oh,” is all she says. Her eyes travel around the room before they land on mine. She shrugs and sighs. Embarrassment shows in her features, and now I feel even more uncomfortable. It’s like I can’t say anything that’s not going to upset or embarrass her. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“I mean, whatever. If you’re happy,” I say.
“That’s the thing, I’m not exactly happy,” she says. “Everything that’s going on right now makes happy kind of difficult. But Ryan is really good to me, and I do love him. When he lets himself be, he’s funny and kind.”
“And the rest of the time?” I ask, giving her a sarcastic smile. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“Love doesn’t work that way. I don’t get to pick and choose which parts of him I love,” she says. A smile returns to her face, and she slaps her knee. Scrunching her face up in sudden pain, she takes a moment to blow out a strangled breath. When her face refocuses on mine she shakes her head.
“I swear, I keep finding more bruises,” she says.