Deserter

by Myers, Shannon

  My thoughts were jumbled and nonsensical. I wasn’t concerned with finding a hospital, but with finding a dry cleaner to ensure that my grandmother’s wedding gown could be restored. As if that was my most pressing concern at the moment.

  “Okay.” He began pacing before coming back over to me. “Okay. Don’t fuckin’ panic, Celia.”

  Betsy watched him with an ashen face before looking back to me and I realized that I had it wrong. Her weakness was Jamie, not Comedian.

  “I didn’t touch her, I swear,” she forced out, daring me to say something.

  My stomach clenched and I let out a rough exhale, drawing Jamie’s attention back to me. “We need to go.”

  “I can drive her,” Betsy offered. “You should stay and enjoy your night.”

  Oh, hell no.

  I gripped his leather vest in my hand and yanked him closer to me. “If you don’t get her out of my sight and me to a hospital, Jamie Quinn, so help me, I will murder the both of you.”

  He reached for my hand and lifted me easily into his arms. “Betsy, get the door and then get the fuck out of my sight,” he growled.

  I kept my head down and remained silent as Jamie carried me through the clubhouse and out to my car. I couldn’t look at him as he settled me into the passenger seat and deposited his leather vest in the trunk. I didn’t have a coat and immediately began shaking. Maybe it wasn’t even the cold anymore; maybe I was finally going into shock.

  My new husband wasn’t about to become a father. He was already one. He just hadn’t told me. Another contraction hit and I closed my eyes, breathing through the pain.

  Jamie cranked the heat up and managed to navigate the dirt roads without jarring the car too much. It was the only thing I could find to be grateful for when it came to the man in the driver’s seat.

  “Say something, Celia. Call me an asshole… beat the shit out of me… whatever. I can’t take you being quiet.” His words were like ice water, rousing me from my thoughts and pulling me back to the present.

  “It’s true then.”

  Jamie stared straight ahead as flakes of ice began to pummel the windshield. “It’s true. Mikey’s mine.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “So, you and Betsy were—are—”

  “Fuckin’ nothing, babe. It was one night; I swear to you. I didn’t know who her Ol’ Man was, or I never would’ve touched her.”

  I’d known that he hadn’t cheated on me, but it didn’t make the confirmation of a son any easier to bear. Now that I knew her true motives, I didn’t want Betsy anywhere near my family.

  “Did she hurt you?” His voice was soft, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles were white.

  “She shoved me into the sink.” I turned to him. “But, you know what? That’s not what hurt me the most. What hurts the most is knowing that you kept this from me and put me in a situation with her where she had the upper hand.”

  My belly tightened with another contraction and I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the headrest. Jamie’s hand connected with my knee, holding me until it let up. I looked at the clock on the dashboard.

  “That was eight minutes, right?”

  I looked up at him in surprise. “You’re timing my contractions?”

  The windshield wipers scraped across the glass with a groan and he lowered the speed before glancing over at me. “Yeah, the fuckin’ book said to keep track of it. As long as we don’t dip below five minutes, we’ll be golden.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from blurting out, “Is that what you did for her? Timed contractions and took her to the hospital? Is that why she wanted you to stay at the clubhouse?”

  Jamie moved his hand off my knee and tightened it around my fingers. “Look at me, babe.” I reluctantly brought my eyes back up to meet his.

  “I had nothing to do with her when she was knocked up. Nothing. Didn’t drive her to the hospital. Didn’t read a fuckin’ pregnancy book. I denied that the kid was mine until after he was born. One look at him and I just knew.”

  “Why didn’t she want you to come with me?”

  He sighed and turned the speed on the wipers up as the glass began to frost up again before returning his hand to mine. “Comedian wasn’t with her when she had Mikey.”

  “Does he know?”

  He shook his head but remained silent.

  “I don’t know much about the club, but he seems like a good man; at least, he’s always been that way to me.”

  Jamie laughed and shook his head. “Damn, darlin’, you fuckin’ see the good in everyone, don’t you?”

  Another contraction bore down on me and I squeezed his fingers like a vice before crying out. They were getting stronger.

  Up to this point they’d been comparable to bad menstrual cramps. Now, it was as if my body was being ripped apart from the inside. More fluid gushed from between my legs and I realized that Yiayia’s dress was the least of my worries. The passenger seat was never going to be the same.

  “You got this, baby. Breathe,” Jamie commanded calmly, with no regard to the safety of his hand.

  I let my head fall back against the seat as soon as the pain let up, sweat beading along my brow. “Sorry about your hand,” I panted, earning another laugh in response.

  “Not fuckin’ worried about my hand. I’m worried about my girl.” He coaxed the speedometer up and I frowned at him.

  “Jamie—” The sleet was now steadily coming down. I’d picked the absolute worst time to have a baby.

  “That last contraction makes them five minutes apart, Celia. I ain’t gonna cause a wreck, but I need to get you to the hospital.”

  I closed my eyes and nodded, suddenly exhausted. “Jamie, when you saw me in the hallway you knew that I knew. Why didn’t you come after me? Why would you leave me with her?”

  He ran his thumb along the back of my hand. “I thought I’d give you your space—”

  “No.” I opened my eyes and sat up with a low groan. “You don’t get to run away every time something goes wrong! You messed up, Jamie. You should’ve come to me with this!”

  “Stop yelling at me, Celia. It’s not fuckin’ helping!” He snapped in return.

  “I want you to come after me like I came after you,” I cried. “What’s so hard about that? You don’t make your partner handle the heavy stuff by themselves. If you love someone—” The truth of my words hit me, and I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop the rest from coming out.

  He didn’t love me.

  He felt obligated to me.

  The next contraction may have been centered in my lower abdomen, but I felt every bit of it in my heart. My breaths came out in little whimpers and I wondered why I was so surprised.

  I’d gone after a man whose lifestyle was the opposite of mine in every way and expected him to be capable of an emotion like love. Why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut? Why couldn’t I just be content with him being there?

  Jamie squeezed my hand. “We’re here. Breathe, baby. In and out. It’ll be over soon. Look at me.”

  I did and he lifted my hand to his lips. “You want me to stop seeing Mikey, I will.” His eyes sparkled with unshed tears and my heart cracked a little more. “I don’t wanna do anything to fuck this up. You are the most important thing in my life.”

  I winced again and grabbed the front of his shirt, panting, “You are not giving up your son, but you will never be alone with her again. Promise me.”

  He mashed his lips into a flat line and nodded, before throwing open the door to come get me. His words had filled me with a strange hope, because I knew something that even he didn’t.

  Regardless of what he said, Jamie Quinn knew how to love.

  The man was crazy about his son.

  And it gave me faith that one day, he might feel the same about me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Grey: 1990

  “Would it have killed you to pick someone I wasn’t related to already? When you said godpar
ents, I had someone tall, dark, and handsome in mind for the godfather role,” Molly whispered loudly as we made our way through the vestibule of the church.

  “Jesus fuck, Molly. We were chosen to be spiritual role models for Kate,” Wolverine growled under his breath.

  I shot Celia a look and she mashed her lips together to hide her grin before ushering Molly over to a bench.

  “You gonna teach her language like that, o wise spiritual advisor?”

  Wolverine chuckled and adjusted the collar of his shirt. “Just the ones she’s not hearing from you. Is it me or is it fuckin’ hot in here?”

  I grinned. The old church was much warmer than it should’ve been, given the weather outside, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to have a little fun with him. “Just you, old man. Maybe your sins are catching up with you. Hell, you just might spontaneously combust before we even make it inside.”

  The sound of Celia’s laughter traveled over to us, drowning out Wolverine’s smart-ass reply, along with the chances of me paying a damn bit of attention to anything other than her.

  She fussed with Kate’s massive christening gown and bonnet while grinning over something Molly had said. The gown had been in Celia’s family for a hundred years or some shit like that and damn near dragged the ground, making Kate look even smaller than she already was.

  I hadn’t looked at my wife the same since she brought our little girl into the world six weeks ago. I thought I was tough, but she’d delivered Kate like a fucking warrior.

  “I’ll be damned, son. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

  “See what, old man?” I asked distractedly, eyes still on her. “A biker inside an old Catholic church?”

  I felt naked without my kutte, but even I respected the power of the Almighty and left it in the Suburban. I bought the SUV for Celia after Kate was born when I realized we were going to need a bigger vehicle.

  I held onto the Cavalier though. Maybe someday it would be Kate’s. After I replaced the passenger seat, of course.

  Wolverine clapped a hand against my shoulder with a grin. “The day you fell ass over teakettle for a woman. You love her.”

  I let out a rough bark of laughter. “Love? The fuck you talkin’ about?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and stared me down. “Drop the shit, Jamie. I’ve seen the way you look at her, like she holds your salvation in the palm of her fuckin’ hand.”

  He wasn’t wrong. My feelings for Celia had only grown stronger since Kate was born, running deep within my veins. I’d always assumed that marriage would feel like a noose around my neck, but the last six weeks had proven me wrong.

  I enjoyed spending time with her, even though most nights, she got Kate down only to pass out beside me on the couch. But just being near her was enough to drown out the war that raged inside my brain.

  Love?

  I’d gone two and a half decades without it and done just fine. It was a word; a lie that poor fucks wrapped themselves up in when they wanted to feel safe and warm.

  Safety itself was just another illusion.

  I could protect the people in my life, or I could sit around and talk about bullshit feelings while the wolves scratched at the door.

  I’d chosen to let my actions speak for me.

  “I’m not,” I began, losing my train of thought when Celia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before pressing a kiss to Kate’s little forehead.

  “So, you’re telling me that someone waltzes in here and tries to take her from you—”

  “I’d spill blood before they even made it over to her,” I growled.

  Wolverine smirked. “What if it came down to a bullet. You willing to take a bullet for her?”

  “Yeah,” I replied, without hesitation. “You got a point to all your hypotheticals, old man?”

  “Kid, it ain’t love unless it rips your fuckin’ guts out. If you’d kill anyone who came against her or die trying, then it’s love. I get that you don’t have a good grasp of what that is with where you came from, but it’s in there.” He tapped his index and middle finger against my chest with a knowing smile.

  I wanted to knock it off his face.

  Celia’s dad came in the side door and made his way over to my girls. I hung back, trying to process Wolverine’s words. It didn’t make sense because the night she came into my bar, I’d taken a man’s life and was willing to face the wrath of the club over it.

  “What if I told you that I did that for her the night she showed up at Leather & Lace? That wasn’t love… I didn’t even know her then.”

  “First time I met Lucy; I knew she was special. You and I? We ain’t all that different. I’m just willing to admit the truth when it’s staring me in the face though. You been in love with Celia Cross since you first laid eyes on her. I saw the change, even if you couldn’t.”

  There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her, but that was because I’d made a vow in front of God and everybody to protect her until my last breath.

  The priest came out and began discussing the ceremony with Celia, putting an end to the uncomfortable conversation between me and Wolverine.

  I shook hands with Richard before turning my attention to the priest. He began stumbling over his words as he took me in.

  “Father,” I nodded.

  “So, we’ll… we’ll just begin. Right, uh, right in here.” With that, he ushered everyone into the nave. I hadn’t married her mama in the church, but it had been my idea to have Kate christened like a Catholic.

  Just like I was.

  It might’ve been a different parish, but the stained-glass windows depicted the same biblical scenes I’d grown up with. Even the musty smell that lingered in the air took me back to the days of trailing into the wooden pew behind my mother for mass.

  Mama would kneel, keeping her head bowed and eyes closed during the Eucharistic Prayer. If I was lucky, she wouldn’t catch me playing with the Matchbox cars I’d hidden in the pocket of the slacks she’d insisted I wear.

  “I think you’ve frightened poor Father Payne,” Celia whispered up to me with a grin as we made our way down the aisle to the altar.

  “I have that effect on people, wife,” I murmured as I looked down, and it was like I was seeing her for the first time.

  The top three buttons of her long-sleeved mustard yellow dress were undone to accommodate tits that had only gotten bigger since pregnancy. Her hips were a little wider and she was softer than before, but in all the ways a man like me could want.

  While I appreciated the curves of motherhood on her, that wasn’t what held my attention.

  It was her eyes.

  She looked like she was staring at eight-year-old me, some innocent fuck who was worthy of her love and affection.

  I wanted to freeze the moment until every part was committed to memory. I wanted to live in it with her, where my only job was to get our daughter baptized. I didn’t want to be Grey… I just wanted to be Celia’s husband.

  Oh, fuck.

  Wolverine was right.

  The realization stole the breath from my lungs and had me reaching for her hand, like a drowning man would a life preserver.

  I fucking loved this woman.

  Father Payne began anointing Kate with the holy oils, and she opened one eye with a whimper before falling back to sleep in Molly’s arms, her lips pushed out in a pout.

  I loved my daughter.

  “How much has this kid had to drink, am I right?” Molly asked with a laugh, earning her a stern glare from Wolverine and Father Payne in response.

  I recited the Apostles’ Creed and Our Father on autopilot with Celia’s palm crushed against mine, wondering why it had taken someone else telling me to see it myself.

  I’d run from the damn thing most of my life, but I didn’t want to run from her. Celia nodded along to the priest while a content smile played on her lips and I knew that I never wanted to lose her.

  There was no one else for me.

  She was it
.

  Proving that there would always be bitter with the sweet, I was flooded with thoughts of Mikey and the life I’d saddled him with by being too goddamned stubborn.

  I loved my boy.

  Maybe if I’d known then that I was capable of loving someone outside of myself, things would’ve been different. He could’ve lived with us, surrounded by people who cared about him.

  He would’ve been here with us, racing his Matchbox cars along the sides of the baptismal font while watching his sister get christened.

  As it was, I’d kept my word to Celia and stayed away until she could be with me. Newborns required a lot of time and attention though, meaning I hadn’t seen him in almost seven weeks.

  I’d talk to her about visiting him soon.

  I didn’t want him thinking that I’d forgotten.

  Father Payne began pouring the baptismal water over Kate’s head in the sign of the cross. “Mary Katherine Quinn, I baptize thee, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”

  The old wooden door at the back of the parish creaked open and I immediately reached toward my hip for my gun before remembering that I’d left it back in the Suburban as well.

  Wolverine kept one hand on Kate and the other at his back before giving me a small nod. The person who’d just come in was either incredibly late or stupid. They took their sweet ass time making their way down the aisle to us, which only increased my suspicions that they weren’t here to wish us well.

  Celia’s mouth fell open in shock when the woman came into view and she tightened her fingertips against my knuckles. “Mama?” She whispered.

  Norma nodded to us both before taking her place next to Richard. Father Payne continued, but my gaze kept wandering back to her.

  Why was she here?

  Why now?

  She’d missed all of Celia’s pregnancy, our marriage—even Kate’s birth. If she’d had a sudden attack of conscience, then there was a time and place for it.

  Today was supposed to be a day of celebration, but I had a feeling that the sudden reappearance of Celia’s mother was going to suck every bit of joy from the occasion.

  I didn’t give a fuck if she wanted to make amends, but today was meant to be about my daughter.