My eyes filled, but I nodded. “I’m fine. I’m sorry about dinner. It won’t happen again.”
“Celia, I—”
“I got it, Celia,” John announced, and Jamie fell quiet again. “This worked for Lou when she was sick as a dog with David.” He held up a bottle of lemon-lime Gatorade and a small bag of Cheerios.
Jamie’s eyes flashed with anger as John stepped around him and he disappeared.
“Why do you keep this in your saddlebag? Do you treat a lot of pregnant women?”
John chuckled and poured some of the cereal out into my palm. “Nah, it’s a hangover cure I’ve sworn by since Jamie and I were kids. When Louisa, my Ol’ Lady, got knocked up, she was throwing up all the time. I was afraid she was gonna waste away to nothing. This worked like a charm.”
His words did nothing to alleviate the ache in my chest. He’d taken care of his woman. I wondered what that was like.
“Going to the clubhouse,” Jamie called from the hallway. “I won’t be back tonight. Slim, let’s go.”
I nodded and bit down on my lower lip to keep it from trembling. I didn’t want to be left alone again. “I can make some food. If you’ll just give me a minute, please.”
The front door slammed shut in response and John gave me regretful smile. “He’ll come around, Celia. I’ll leave our phone number on the kitchen table. Feel free to call Lou anytime you have questions. Now, just drink the Gatorade and eat the cereal until you’re good as new again, okay?”
“Thanks, John.” He patted the top of my head and a tear slipped free. I’d almost forgotten how good it felt to be cared for by someone.
The mirror vibrated against the wall as their bikes started up and then the house fell silent again. I was failing at being a biker Ol’ Lady, always a few steps behind what was required. For women like Lucy, running a household was second nature. I’d grown up with a housekeeper and had been forced to learn everything after moving in with Jamie.
The next few hours were spent washing the dishes from breakfast and tidying up around the house. Molly didn’t answer when I called, and I wondered if she was out making bad decisions. It was better than being locked up like a prisoner.
The wind picked up, making the old house creak and pop. If I didn’t jump out of my skin every time it happened, I would’ve sworn that maybe I’d become a ghost, haunting the prison I was supposed to call home.
I picked up a book but was too restless to read. I turned on the television, needing something to drown out the groaning from the wind, but I couldn’t focus. As I picked at my fingernails, an idea began to take shape.
What if Lucy was wrong?
What if Jamie didn’t want an Ol’ Lady?
I walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light before stepping back in fright. With my pale skin and dark circles, I was even starting to resemble a ghost.
“You can stay here and continue to live like a mouse, Celia Cross,” I told my reflection as I brushed powder on my nose. “Or, you can be yourself and stand up to him.”
It wasn’t a convincing argument, but I had a hunch that Jamie’s neglect had nothing to do with me and everything to do with his past.
Maybe I’d be able to fix what was broken between us if I only stopped cowering. I’d made myself small and obedient because that was what the other women did, but it never felt right.
I wasn’t like them.
I threw open the closet door and searched through the dresses—I’d outgrown almost every one of Yiayia’s and had been forced to purchase the oversized maternity clothing that the magazines swore was in style.
I finally settled on a non-maternity teal silk wrap dress that fit my body like a glove, pairing it with my moccasin boots and Jamie’s leather jacket. The full-length mirror in the bedroom was unforgiving, but it was going to have to do. With my swollen feet, heels were out of the question and his jacket was the only one that fit around my belly.
I dabbed gloss onto my lips and brushed through my hair before heading out to the red Chevy Cavalier Jamie had bought not long after I moved in. My hands began to tremble against the steering wheel when the city lights faded in the rearview mirror.
It was risky and there was a pretty big chance that it was going to blow up in my face, but I had to know for sure. Either Jamie wanted the old Celia, or he didn’t want me at all. I hoped it was the former, because I didn’t have a plan for the latter.
I winced as the car bounced over rocks down in the canyon and kept one hand tight around my belly. The motorcycles were lined up outside the clubhouse, with several bikers on patrol.
They reached for their guns as I stepped out and I held up a hand in greeting. “Hey, I’m here to see Grey.”
Mama said if you spoke with authority, people were less likely to ask questions.
Unfortunately, Mama had never dealt with bikers.
“He ain’t seeing anyone tonight, sweetheart,” one stated flatly. “You can deal with us though. We’ll treat you real nice.”
Another laughed at the statement and nodded in agreement. I pulled the jacket around my body like armor and stepped out from the shadows, hoping they’d realize who I was.
“Holy shit, this bitch is knocked up!” Biker One exclaimed gleefully.
Another put his hand on my belly, and I stepped back. “Don’t touch me. I’m here for Grey. If you let me pass, I won’t tell him about this.”
Ignoring me, Biker Three chimed in. “Any of you ever banged a pregnant chick? How many of us do you think it would take before she went into labor?”
My pulse picked up and I briefly considered running before standing tall and facing them. “You will take me to Grey right now—”
My words cut off as Biker Two’s hand closed around my throat. “We ain’t taking you anywhere, bitch. Get on your knees.”
“If I were you three, I’d get my goddamned hands off Grey’s Ol’ Lady, but what the fuck do I know?” A voice said cheerfully.
The hand fell away from my throat and I immediately began coughing as the speaker stepped into view. He was a little shorter than Jamie, but still over six foot, with dark brown hair that fell just past his chin. His dark eyes were hooded, and I couldn’t decide if he was high or if that was just how he looked naturally.
The bikers disappeared and the man shrugged. “Grey’ll deal with ‘em later, don’t you worry about that.”
“Thank you,” I said once my breathing returned to normal. “I’m Celia.”
His hand dropped from his goatee and wrapped around my shoulders. “Comedian, and unlike these jackasses, I know exactly who you are. So, Celia, you hear the one about the woman who went to her doctor?”
“Uh, no?”
He guided me toward the front doors. “So, this woman goes to her doctor and she’s like, ‘Doc, I’m twenty weeks pregnant. When will my baby move?’ And the doctor looks her dead in the eye and says, ‘With any luck, right after he graduates college.’ Get it?”
I smiled. “That’s pretty good, actually. Did you know I got fired from my job at the bank today?”
Comedian frowned. “You worked at a bank?”
I nodded. “Yeah. An older woman came in and asked me to check her balance, so I pushed her over. I don’t work there anymore.”
It took him a second, but then he let out a booming laugh as we walked inside. “Damn, Celia. You got me! I’ll have to use that one.”
“How did you know who I was?” I yelled over the blaring rock music, while searching for Jamie. The bass pulsated inside my skull, making it hard to focus.
“Oh, the Pres has us check in on you when he can’t be there, just like he checks in on my family when I’m on a run.”
He turned to face me, suddenly serious. “Look, my Ol’ Lady was out of line, taking you to Vik’s behind Grey’s back. I just want you to know she’ll never pull shit like that again.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about that day and how it had ended. “It’s fine, really. If you could ju
st tell me where Grey is.”
Preferably before I chicken out and go back to my car.
“He’s a little fucked up right now, but Slim is on it—”
“He’s what? Where is he?”
Comedian winced. “Okay, yeah, he’s a lotta fucked up right now and I don’t think you’re gonna want to talk to him when he’s like that. He gets mean.”
Okay, coming down here had not been my best plan. Calypso had never tried to get off the island and go after Odysseus, proving that she was much smarter than I was.
I’d seen Jamie’s mean and I wasn’t keen on the idea of a repeat performance.
“Please, I just need to talk to him.”
He sighed and pointed. “Back room.”
I exhaled slowly and straightened my spine. I was going to walk up to him and say… well, I was going to think of something really profound to say. My thoughts became jumbled as fear settled in my chest.
What if he’d had second thoughts about the baby?
Molly said she’d heard of bikers who dropped their Ol’ Ladies when they got pregnant. No, I wasn’t going to think like that. John had said he’d come around.
I took another deep breath and stepped into the back room. I was momentarily disoriented by the change in lighting and thick cloud of smoke, nearly stumbling right into the middle of two bikers sharing a woman on one of the large couches.
I froze as she picked her head up with a moan, but she remained oblivious to my presence. I watched from the shadows for longer than I cared to admit, while wondering if that was what men wanted.
A whore.
I realized that the rhythmic tapping wasn’t from the music in the other room, but from bodies coming together. Everywhere I looked, there were bikers engaging in sex acts; there were a few I hadn’t even known existed.
How was I supposed to find Jamie in this den of debauchery?
“Oh, I fucked up,” Jamie’s voice slurred, and I snapped out of my trance to look for him. I had just side-stepped over a passed out biker lying on the floor in the middle of the room when I spotted them—and my blood pressure went through the roof.
He was slumped over a bar stool, flicking the ash from his cigarette onto the scarred bar top, oblivious to the ashtray six inches away. A topless woman was on all fours in front of him, her hands twisted up in his blond hair. It was Blondie, from Leather & Lace.
I knew what went on in the club; had heard the whisperings from the other Ol’ Ladies when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. There were always going to be club girls and women collected as payment on debts. I clutched my chest, feeling like the air had been knocked from my lungs.
I’d wanted to believe that if he wasn’t sleeping with me, then he wasn’t sleeping with anyone.
Naïve, stupid girl.
I had no idea what to do. Go back home and pretend I saw nothing? Pack up my things and disappear? Hot tears spilled over onto my cheeks as I watched the father of my baby receive a lap dance from a woman I despised. She tried forcing his face between her very fake breasts, but he jerked away to take another drag off his cigarette.
Lucy had given me tips on everything. Not once had she mentioned what to do if you saw your Ol’ Man with one of the club girls. I turned away, disgusted and ready to run, when it hit me.
It wasn’t breaking the rules if it hadn’t been covered, right?
I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands as I stalked back behind the bar.
“C’mon, baby.” Blondie did a shimmy and reached for Jamie’s hands. I caught her by the hair and dragged her off the bar top with a strength I didn’t know I possessed.
“Get off of him,” I hissed, feeling triumphant as she fell back onto her butt with a grunt of pain.
I’d hoped the fall had broken her tailbone, but Blondie was back on her feet again within seconds. When she saw my belly, she threw her head back with a laugh. “Get the fuck out of here! You really think you stand a chance with him, looking like a beached whale?”
I crossed my arms over my chest with a raised chin and kept my voice steady. “You’re done here. Get your things and go.”
I looked to Jamie to back me up, but he was now slumped over on his forearm, the lit cigarette still dangling between his fingertips. Looked like I’d be relying on John and Comedian to deal with her.
“Fuck you. You don’t call the shots!” she spat before taking a step forward.
John walked up just as she reared back to slap me, catching her arm in his. “That’s Grey’s Ol’ Lady.”
She shook her head. “Jesus. I—I didn’t know.”
“Slim, I want her out of here. Get your things and go. I won’t say it again,” I demanded icily before checking Jamie. His breathing was deep and even, but I lifted his eyelids anyway, just like they did on the medical drama, Nightingales. I wasn’t really sure what it was I was supposed to be looking for though.
John restrained Blondie before signaling to another biker. “Get her out of here.”
“What did he take?” I asked quietly. “And why?”
“Mainly tequila, a little blow. I don’t know. He’s been a fucking wreck since we left. Why are you here? You should be home resting.”
“I’m here for him.” I was glad that the lights were low so he couldn’t see the fresh batch of tears that were gathering in my eyes. “Can you help me carry him to his room?”
I’d get him safe and then find out why he was with another woman.
One crisis at a time, Celia.
Comedian strolled up and looped Jamie’s arm around his shoulder, taking the time to stub out his cigarette. “Let’s go, Pres. Time to sleep it off.” John grabbed his other arm and I followed behind.
Memories came rushing back once we entered the room, along with the realization that Jamie had not been taking care of himself. The floor was littered with clothing and empty bottles of booze. Several had broken, leaving shards of glass scattered across the floor.
“Get him in the shower,” I directed Comedian and John. “And get me a broom to clean this mess up.”
They dragged Jamie into the bathroom and reappeared with small smiles on their faces.
“What?”
John shook his head. “I’m just really happy that I’m not in Grey’s shoes right now. How ‘bout you, Comedian?”
He grinned. “We’ll get one of the club whores in here to clean up for ya, Celia.”
“No!” Their eyes widened. “I mean, I’d prefer to take care of it myself. Thank you.”
John nodded. “I got an idea.” He left and returned with a broom and a biker who couldn’t have been much older than me. “Dave’s a prospect. He’s gonna help you get this room like you want it.”
They left us and Dave nodded to me. “Torch.”
“Excuse me?”
“Call me Torch.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay… Torch, let’s get this place cleaned up before someone loses an eye or contracts something that can’t be cured.”
It took us thirty minutes to gain some semblance of order in Jamie’s room. My lower back ached from bending over and the baby had begun giving little kicks of frustration, but it finally looked just like it had the night I was taken.
“Torch, could you…” I ran the back of my hand across my sweaty forehead as the dizziness and nausea made a reappearance. “Could you grab some water for me?”
His eyes widened. “Sure. You want me to grab Slim too?”
I shook my head. “Just the water. Thank you.”
I took a deep breath and entered the bathroom. Jamie’s boots poked out from underneath the shower curtain and I yanked it back before sinking against the bathroom counter with a strangled sob.
I hadn’t noticed the dark circles under his eyes under the dim bar lights, but they were there. His hair was greasy, and his beard had grown wild, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked at him.
I’d seen him almost every night but hadn’t taken the time to really look at
him and see what he was becoming.
“For the love of all the saints, what were you thinking, Jamie?” I whispered as I knelt on the tile before him, brushing his hair back.
My old friend, Diana, had snuck into her parent’s liquor cabinet one night in high school when I stayed over. I thought she’d fallen asleep, but it didn’t matter how many times I shook her shoulders, she wouldn’t open her eyes. Finally, in frustration, I’d dragged her into the shower and let the cold water hit her.
I used Jamie’s shoulder to get back to my feet and toed my moccasins off before turning on the water. I dropped his jacket by the sink and knelt again, rubbing his chest, as the icy spray soaked my hair and dress.
“Open your eyes.”
He groaned and tried to move away from the water. “Ain’t touching you, so get the fuck out.”
I rocked back on my heels before pummeling his chest with my fists as my fury mixed with anguish. I’d come all this way only to be rejected yet again. “Goddamn you!”
His eyes remained closed, but he pinned both of my wrists in his hand. “I told you to get your fuckin’ hands off me,” he slurred before releasing me. “Fuckin’ belong to Celia, so fuck off!”
I froze as a multitude of emotions washed over me. He had no idea it was me. And if he wasn’t letting anyone touch him while he was drunk, then there was no way he was while sober.
My teeth sank into my lower lip and I shook my head in wonder. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind—my biker had remained celibate as penance for what happened that night.
“Blondie’s gone and she’s not going to be coming back,” I stated. Jamie groaned in response and I grew bolder. “You don’t fuck around with anyone but me.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Sounded like Celia for a second. Nice try.”
I grabbed the edges of his leather vest and pulled him closer before lowering my mouth over his with a soft sigh. His lips tasted like liquor but felt like home against mine.
I’d missed this.
I’d missed him.
I took his lower lip between my teeth and he exhaled a warm breath into my mouth before pulling back. “I can’t—”
“Open your eyes, Jamie.”
He blinked against the spray of water and I fumbled behind me until it shut off. My knees throbbed and I was fairly certain that my feet had lost circulation, but I stayed, kneeling between his legs.
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