by Joy Blood
“That sucks. I never would have pegged him for that type.” And I really wouldn't have, he always seemed to genuinely like Ari.
“We have an understanding. He needs to focus on football and I need to focus on school.” She waves her hand dismissively. “So, back to your biker,” she says bringing the topic back to me.
“Not much to say. He comes to see me when he can. That’s all,” I lie. Maybe there is more to it than that, but I don’t want to get into it right now. Rooming with Ari turned out to be the best thing. We have quickly grown into a comfortable friendship I hold close to my heart. I have never had a friend, let alone a best friend. She is the latter for sure.
“You little prude. How is he in the sack? The strong silent types always seem to be the ones who have that dark side to them.”
“Oh my god.” I laugh at her, my hand smacking my forehead in exasperation. “Yes, he is strong and silent but believe me if he could talk he would say a lot.”
“Yeah. Well…how did that happen anyway? The no talking thing.” She asks looking at me with curiosity.
“Long story. Believe me there. Starts with my mom, Ellie,” I say, picking up my bottled water and taking a small sip.
“We got time,” she says finishing off the last bite she was on. I settled for a salad wanting something light for my unsettled stomach.
“He was shot. I’m a little vague on the details since I wasn't there. But he got hit by a fragment from a bullet and it got lodged in his throat. It’s like he is in a constant state of a dry and scratchy throat and is limited to a whisper. Just think how you feel when you are sick and your throat hurts so bad you can’t even talk. That is about how he feels.” I explain what Jake had told me not too long ago when I asked him.
“That sucks. But, shit, his voice is still sexy. And I love how he calls you Key. Wish I had myself a biker.” She says the last part wistfully making me laugh at her.
“Well, there is a whole club full of them back home…” I start, but stop, finding big, wide eyes, full of excitement. Oh crap.
“Can I come home with you. Please?” she pleads with a bright smile. Oh no, what have I done?
“We will see. It’s not like they will just let anyone come hang out. The only reason I'm allowed there is because I'm with Jake.” Gathering up my garbage, I walk over to the bins and drop it in, Ari hot on my heels as we walk out of the double doors and down the hallway.
“Maybe next weekend?” she asks.
“I said we will…oh crap.” My hand flies over my mouth on instinct and I make a mad dash to the bathrooms which, only by a stroke of luck, we are walking past. Unfortunately, I don’t make it to the toilets before expelling my salad into the trash.
“Kimi. Are you okay?” Ari comes rushing in behind me placing her hand on my back until it finally stops.
“Yeah. Just. Wow, that was weird.”
“I know you are a big girl and all, but should I have had the conversation about using condoms with you?” she asks.
“What are you talking about, Ar?”
“Any chance you could be pregnant, Kimi?”
“No…” I start to say, but I stop and think. “We didn’t use anything one time, but he pulled out. Oh crap.”
“Yeah, sorry, Keeks. Those little guys have one mission and I think one fulfilled theirs.” Ari, always with her quizzical speech, but deep down I know she is right. My cycle has always been irregular, so when I missed my period I didn't think twice about it. Then when it came just two days ago, in the form of only spotting, I called it good and right back out of my mind it went. I didn't think of it again. Until this morning when I woke up, feeling dull and wanting to hurl. “Shit. I didn't think so. But…crap I don’t know, Ari,” I admit, still leaning on the wall for support. She takes out a napkin and hands it over. I don’t miss the look she gives me. That sympathetic look.
“You want to go grab a test and find out?” I shake my head and go over to the sinks to wash the taste out of my mouth. “You are going to need to find out for sure, Kimi.”
“I know. I just don’t need to get a test is all. I already have one. I didn't take it because I thought I got my period, so it wasn't an issue anymore. Crap.” I can’t have a baby right now, I'm in school. I want to live my life a little before devoting it to another little person. I'm just not ready. I'm only nineteen.
“Aren't you on birth control?” she asks, taking my thoughts back to her.
“No. We always used condoms.”
“Girl. All right…This will be fine. Let’s skip the day and go back to the dorms. There is a more important test to be taken at the moment.” She tries a joke with a weak smile.
“Funny,” I say sarcastically.
“I try.”
* * *
One hour later, it’s confirmed. I'm pregnant and scared out of my mind. The last thing I want right now is a baby. What will Jake say? He is the Vice President of an MC. An MC. This knowledge hits me hard. What if something happens to him? Or to me? What if this baby gets shipped off to my uncle at some horrible stroke of back luck? It’s not like the club hasn't been in the line of death and destruction before. Just two years ago, the whole place was wiped out, Jake could have been there that day. He should have been there that day. What if it happens again?
I'm playing a stupid game of what if in my head, but I can’t help it. I have someone who, in only a few short months, will look to me for everything. Will I be able to give it to them? No. I won’t. Not when their father is a criminal and their mother is a college dropout.
Groaning, I roll over in my bed. Shortly after I took the test and discovered my fate, I told Ari there was no reason for her to miss her classes too, so she left about ten minutes ago. Now, I'm alone. Alone and ready to make a rash decision. Picking up my phone I scroll through to find the nearest clinic. I press send and wait for someone to answer before I make that rash decision a reality.
* * *
“Good afternoon. How can I help you?” the person behind the glass window greets me.
“I have an appointment for one o’clock.” I tell her my name and she slides the form through the small gap at the bottom of the divider.
“Just fill this out and bring it back when you are done.” She is older, maybe forty, with drawn on eyebrows and bad lipstick. But she is nice and doesn't make me feel like a horrible person for being here. I fill out the medical history and consent forms the best I can before I'm called back and told to strip from the waist down.
I'm sitting on the scratchy paper-covered exam chair when the doctor comes in. She is tall, crazy tall. Long brown hair pulled back into a tight bun and her face is void of any makeup. Not that she needs any. She has that angelic look to her. “Hello, Kimi. Why don’t you lay back and put your feet up here. I promise, I will be as quick as possible,” she says with a sweet smile. She does as promised, and is done in no time now squirting blue gel onto my stomach. “Looks like you are…” She drifts off for a moment moving a wand along my stomach. The black and white fuzzy picture on the screen confirms what I already knew. “You are about nine weeks.” She taps a few more things on her keyboard then takes the wand away placing it back on the small machine she had rolled in.
“How long do I have before I can…” I drift off not finishing my question, but she already knows what I'm asking.
“You still have some time to decide. Typically, we have you schedule the procedure then wait at least a week. In some cases, the patient changes their mind. It just gives you some time to make sure you are certain about your decision,” she tells me, now picking up a small stack of brochures and papers. “Whatever you decide, just know it’s your decision. This paper is your appointment requirements, things you are not to do the day before, bringing someone to the appointment, those types of things. If you need the appointment changed, or you want to cancel, call this number. Any questions?” She pauses her noticeably recited speech, and I shake my head. She smiles, says her goodbye, and I'm left to put my
clothes back on with a huge ass cloud hovering over my head.
Twenty-Three
Jake
I pull the new Camaro, I finally got done, up in the parking lot next to the dorms. Gin came with to bring me back after I gave it to Key. We were due to go on a run tomorrow, so I couldn't stay but I still wanted Kimi to have the car before I left. I get out and tipped my head at Gin who parked next to the car and I walked inside to surprise her. I had told her that I wasn't going to make it this weekend, but the last minute I decided to come. I needed to see her before I took off. Set my mind right.
I slip in through the door before it closes and head up to her room wishing she would just move into the duplex so I wouldn't have to sneak around an all-girl dorm to see her. Stepping up to her door I'm about to open it when I hear someone inside talking. It’s her friend, Ari, I think. The place is unusually quiet but every word spoken seeps into my ears as if I were in the very same room.
“Are you sure? I mean, you should tell Jake,” Ari says, making my skin feel cold.
“I know, but what if he doesn't let me? I can’t do this right now. I just can’t.” Kimi’s weepy voice declares. Do fucking what? I don’t wait anymore. Opening the door, I walk in to find Kimi sitting on her bed, eyes rimmed red like she’s been crying for days, and Ari sitting across from her. Both their heads snap my way, Kimi visibly shrinking under my stare. I don’t even need to try to tell Ari to get lost. She is up and out of the room with one lift of my chin. Kimi never leaves my sight as I stalk toward her, getting right up close.
“Key?” I squat down to get level with her face. Taking a quick scan around her, I zero in on a stack of papers sitting on the bed. She catches my line of sight, but before she can grab what my eyes land on, I have it in my hand and I'm standing up, pacing the room looking through the pamphlets. One for adoption, which I toss onto the floor, then one for abortion. I toss that one on the floor too, my anger growing with each flip of the documents.
“Jake. Let me explain.” The panic in her voice tries to pierce through the pounding in my ears when I get to the sheet telling me my girl, the fucking woman I love, has an appointment in five days to get my baby sucked out of her body. Anger roars through my veins and I crumple the paper in my hand slamming my fist into the wall. She jumps from the action, obviously scared, then cowers back closer to the wall in attempt to seek protection. From. Me.
“The fuck, Key?” My voice is strangled and I want so fucking bad to shout in her face. Ask her why she would do this.
“I'm sorry. Jake. I…”
“My baby, Key?” I swallow, trying as fucking hard as I can to get my throat wet again. “Killing my baby?” Tears fall freely from her face as I get closer and throw the balled-up pieces of paper at her. She flinches when it hits her shoulder then bounces off onto the bed and drops to the floor. I want to burn the fucking thing.
“I don’t know,” she whimpers.
“Looks like you do,” I rasp out, the words burning every part of me.
“I can’t have a baby right now, Jake. I'm only nineteen and you’re a—”
“ A what?” I know what she is going to say. I'm a fucking criminal, a biker—someone she shouldn’t have kids with. Someone she might love, but doesn't see a future with. How could I be so fucking stupid?
“I'm sorry,” she whispers, and my entire world falls on its ass. She isn't going to change her mind. I need to walk away now before it gets worse. Turning, the sound of her getting off her bed hits my ears before her slender fingers grab my arm, telling me she is sorry again and it’s all I can take. I turn back to see her tear-soaked face. “Jake, please try to understand,” she says looking up at me with pleading eyes. It breaks me in two to see her like this and breaks me even more because of the reason. What I say next leaves me in a pile of shit.
“Do what you got to do,” I say gruffly, then jerk my arm from her trembling grasp, stopping for a second to toss the keys to the Camaro onto her bed. “Black Camaro, out front. Yours,” I say, then storm out, slamming the door.
When I reach Gin sitting in his truck, I don’t say a word as I pull open the door and slam it shut behind me. Seeing the look on my face, he just throws the truck into gear and drives away.
She can do whatever the fuck she wants. I need to push the shit from my mind right now. I have responsibilities to the club that are more important than my woman choosing to rip my heart out. Fuckin’ Key. How could she do this shit? To something we made together? “What’s goin’ on, man?” Gin finally breaks the silence when we are almost back to Cental. I just shake my head in response. “Women. They will rip your heart out, won’t they? What did little Kimi do now?” I shoot him a glare, and he holds his hands up in surrender, quickly putting them back on the wheel. “All right, man. I’ll leave it.” Good. Need my mind clear and hashing this out with Gin isn't going to help.
Twenty-Four
Jake
I forget about it. Put it in the back of my mind for later, if ever. My head needs to be in the right place, or me and my brothers are as good as dead. Rolling up to the meet spot, we park our bikes and kick the stands. We stopped off at the clubhouse and switched out the cage. Cold as it is, riding our bikes may be stupid, but we weren't about to roll up to these fuckers in a truck.
Outside an empty diner on the border of Washington and Oregon, a place that took us a day to get to, shit is about to go down. And not in a good way. The Flores gang isn't one we wanted to mess with, but when we got word of them having information leading to one of the turncoats that shot up our club, we couldn't say no. So now, it’s an exchange of service for information. Fuck my life. “Don’t trust these fuckers one bit,” Gin grits out to the three of us. Three being Sage, Ringer and I. Ringer came to us when word got out we started up the club in Cental again, he’d been nomad for the past two years. Got the name back when he was a sniper. Dead Ringer. He has more confirmed kills than he will ever let on. Not someone who you want to piss off.
Dust flies up from the ground as a silver topped car pulls up, accompanied by two more, these ones blacked out. Completely. The two black cars pull up and park, flanking the two-toned vehicle. Must be Flores’s ride. My thought is confirmed when the man himself steps out of the car, followed by three of his men. Then two from the black cars step out.
“The Hell’s Riders,” Flores speaks, taking slow, calculated steps toward us. I'm standing behind Gin, to his side as are Sage and Ringer. All our hands hover, ready to grab our guns at any slight movement.
“Flores. We hear you have something for us.” Gin speaks up, but Flores is looking directly at me.
“This is your VP, why are you talking for him?” Flores lets out a smile showing off his gold grill. Things always looked so ridiculous to me. “This the whisperer? The Whispering Rider? Shit, I thought someone was fuckin’ with me.” The prick cackles out, getting even closer. “You killed a lot of my cousin’s men,” he says, referring to Diablo, his cousin. Like the other men he has flanking him, he is wearing a flannel, though his isn't buttoned up to his neck like the rest of them. His hangs open revealing one of those white tank top things. Deciding I'm not going to listen to his bullshit, I step forward, toe to toe with the man. Leaning in, I start to talk, making him raise his tattooed brows.
“Tried to kill me,” I pause to swallow, “you know my name,” pause again, “you know my work.” I rasp out in the best menacing voice I can. It must work because he backs off, the smile now wiped from his face. “You deal with Gin,” I say getting a nod in understanding from him.
“You got information to trade. What is it you want?” Gin asks, right to the point.
“Territory. We want to expand our operations up the coast, but there is a problem. Small piece right in line of the route sits in Siberian territory. We want safe passage. You get us that, we get you your traitors,” Flores states. Seems fair enough, but convincing the Siberians is something that might be harder than we think. They are some racist motherfuckers, and for the
m to grant safe passage to a Mexican gang will be pulling at some very pissy strings. Not to mention the relation to Flores and Diablo. Gin looks back at me because he knows I'm the person in with the Siberians, but I only give him a curt nod.
“We will see what we can do,” Gin says, speaking for me.
“See that you do,” Flores responds, then walks back to his car followed by his men. Promptly driving away, they leave a plume of dust in their wake.
“Looks like we need to make a run on over to Idaho. Fuck.” Gin groans but Sage perks up.
“Those women at the Siberian compound are fuckin’ prime. I'm in.” Figures. The guy will fuck anything with a pulse.
“Let’s go then,” I whisper to Gin, but the others hear too and we are on the back of our bikes roaring down the highway, back the way we just came. If I didn't love riding so much, I would be pissed we have to double back only to have to turn back and come this way when shit is resolved.
I still haven't talked to Kimi. And every time I check my phone the day gets closer to the day I saw her appointment was scheduled for. Tomorrow is that day. It plays in the back of my mind over and over. Wondering if she’ll actually go through with it. She seemed so determined to do it and part of me breaks inside, because as much as I want to support her decision, I know in my heart I won’t be able to forgive her if she does.
Our tires eat up pavement through the night and when we reach the Siberian compound, I hit the mattress, hard. It’s well past noon when I wake and go in search of Premo, the Siberian’s Pres. A wall of muscle if I ever saw one.
“Jake. Good to see you again. My VP said you and some of your brothers stopped here last night. Needed to discuss something?” I give him a nod and he waves his hand in front of him, silently leading the way to his office. We walk through his door and it closes behind us. He bends down to a small fridge and pulls out two bottled waters and hands me one. Premo is probably the only biker I know that doesn't drink. He’s a recovering alcoholic, five years sober to my understanding. Those five years before, he did the unthinkable and was the reason his five-year-old son died too soon. Hasn't had a drop of liquor since. “So, what is it you need, Jake?” he asks as I crack open the water. He knows I'm going to need to speak to get this shit out.