by KB Winters
“I had this little one-bedroom apartment with plenty of light in the living room. My craft room was my living room and I had this long table by the balcony where I had an almost unobstructed view of the Hollywood sign.”
She sighed wistfully, her green eyes someplace else, that happier time I assumed.
“I was in a happy bubble, stoned and crafting, planning two or three heists a month for a fat bundle of cash. I kept doing it, not even thinking about it at all, Dallas, not until I gave up the pills.”
“Why?” I needed to know if I had to worry about having a junkie in my house and carrying my kid.
She shrugged. “I was over it and I preferred the way I felt with pot, a little spacey but not enough that I could ignore my conscience. And I started thinking that if I was going to do this with my life, I could at least be with Dad.” A laugh erupted out of her. “Okay, so not really the short version, but there it is, the whole story.”
I reached over and fingered a few crumbs from her plate, licking my thumb before I said, “And you think that’s why he wants you back?”
She rolled her eyes, swiped her phone screen a few times and shoved it under my nose. I frowned at the room on her screen, filled with bins of yarn, tubes of glitter, fake flowers, beads and plenty of other shit that the old ladies in Rose Petal would love. “What the hell am I looking at?”
She laughed but the sound was harsh and bitter. “My prison. Genesis wanted to keep me high and planning heists for him while I did my crafts. Whether I wanted to or not.”
“And you’re not tempted, not even a little?” If she was going to change her mind in a few days, I couldn’t get involved. If I landed myself in the middle of some on and off couple, I would send her on her way right damn now.
“Hell no. I mean, I get why he might think I’d come back, but I’m not the girl too naïve and too blind to see the truth anymore. And honestly, there’s nothing quite like being on my own.”
“No, there isn’t.” The desert air made it easier to breathe than the thick, suffocating air in Rose Petal.
“So yeah, I’m not going back. But I need a plan and to make a decent one, I need time. For some reason, I thought you might help, but it’s okay if you won’t. I always land on my feet.”
Shit. I couldn’t let her go now, knowing she was pregnant with a gangbanger after her. “One more question, who does this Genesis run with?”
Rocky stood and grabbed her bag, heading for my front door again. “The Killer Aces. See ya, Lasso.”
Chapter 3
Rocky
Two days. That was how long I’d been at Lasso’s place and I wouldn’t even start with how I felt about him insisting I call him by that ridiculous nickname. But I obliged because he was nice enough to let me lay low and invade his space for a while. And I still didn’t have a good plan to start a new life someplace else, though I was waiting to hear from a guy I used to know about a new identity.
Other than staring at blank paper and crafting, I was bored out of my mind. Terrified about my uncertain future as a single parent. Even now, I sat on the shaded back porch, knitting an oversized sweater that was a commissioned order, and hoping my phone wouldn’t ring. I’d changed numbers twice since I left San Diego and this time, Genesis hadn’t been able to get it.
Or he was biding his time.
Either way, the sooner I came up with a plan for my future, the faster I’d be out of his reach and safe to worry about the rest of my life. Which for the immediate future meant dealing with another outlaw biker. I’d seen Lasso’s leather jacket and insignia, and knew I was in danger of repeating my past mistakes. There had to be a sign on my forehead or maybe it was a scent, that said I was a magnet for outlaws.
It was a good thing I wasn’t hanging around long enough to make too many mistakes.
The last mistake had nearly cost me my life after a night of grief, pills and booze, and now I had someone else to worry about, so I had to be smart. My kid needed me to be better than I was right now, better than my dad had ever been and better than my mom was before she walked out when I was three. I’d have to do more with my online craft store, make more money to take care of me and a baby and find a place to live. Hell, I had to find a state to live in, then find a doctor and buy baby clothes and beds and stuff. I needed baby books and vegetables. They were good for growing fetuses, weren’t they?
“Hey, hey Rocky! Breathe.” I turned, shocked to find Lasso right in front of me, on his knees, his big blue eyes looking hella concerned. “Breathe in, two three, and out two three four.” He repeated it two more times and I followed along until my heart, that I hadn’t even realized was racing, began to slow down.
“Thanks.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just feeling a tad overwhelmed for a minute.” It was an understatement, but the telltale pulse at the base of my throat said otherwise.
“By just sitting here?”
“No,” I told him and rolled my eyes in frustration. “Thinking about my future and making plans, okay? Jeez, I’m fine.”
Can’t a girl freak out about her future without everyone going a little crazy? I didn’t need Lasso to try and figure me out. Men only wanted to get into a woman’s head for two reasons, to fuck us or control us, and I wasn’t in the market for either of those things.
“You’ve been sick a lot.” His words were said plainly but something about them just put me off.
“Yeah well, if they called it all day sickness, women might make better birth control decisions.” The really twisted part of all this was that we had used birth control. “Too bad no one tells you antibiotics cancel out the pill until it’s already failed. The bastards.”
His blue eyes bugged out. “No shit?”
“No shit,” I said and let the conversation die because it was obvious Lasso had something on his mind. “What are you doing back so early, I thought you were at the tattoo shop until eight?” He looked embarrassed and wouldn’t look at me.
I knew what it was about. I’d had the same thought about a few roommates before I’d finally gotten my own place. I stood and picked up my basket of yarn and my sticks, making sure I kept all of my shit in the tiny guest closet he’d let me use. “I’m not going to steal your shit, Lasso. But I’ll leave with you in the morning and spend the day someplace else until you come back.” He followed me to the closet where I put my things away and grabbed a book. “I’ll be out of here in another day or so.”
“Where are you going,” he asked, frowning at me from the doorway because he was too damn big to even fit in this room.
“I don’t know yet, but I’m working on a plan and in a few days, I’ll have it as close to perfect as it can get.”
If there was one thing in this life I did well, it was make plans. Logistics.
He sighed, arms crossed so his t-shirt pulled across a wide, muscled chest and thick, round biceps. “I didn’t say you had to leave, Rocky. You should do something about that chip on your shoulder before it squashes you.”
Maybe he was right. I probably did have a chip on my shoulder, but it was well fucking earned. “You didn’t have to say it, you were trying very hard not to say it. But this is your place, and no one should make you feel uncomfortable in your own home. Least of all me.”
“I don’t know what the hell that even means, but it sounds to me like you’re trying to kick up shit.”
Of course, it did, because I was a hormonal female and every emotion I had wasn’t because he was a suspicious dick, but because I couldn’t control my emotions.
“I have no control over what you think. Now if you don’t mind, I think I need to rest.” I closed the door in his face, climbed onto the small twin bed and promptly fell asleep.
It was as fitful as all of my sleep had been for the past two weeks.
***
I woke up early, grabbed my purple yoga mat and took it to the quiet solitude of the early morning. The only sounds this time of day were birds chirping
and singing back and forth, presumably about where they would fly for the day. I tried to get up early and do yoga at least two or three times a week because it helped me stay grounded.
Today I needed it with a capital N thanks to another night of disturbingly delicious sex dreams featuring a man named Lasso mixed in with dreams of what my future would look like if Genesis got his hands on me. Again. I woke up at four and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. After two hours of staring at the ceiling, I got up and slipped into my yoga clothes.
I’d been standing upright for at least thirty minutes without any trace of nausea or the urge to vomit. Either morning sickness was over, or I’d confused my body enough by getting up a few hours earlier than normal. Whatever the cause, I accepted it with nothing but gratitude.
It might not last all day though. So I finished up, rolled up my mat and set it beside the door, and went inside to rustle up some breakfast. This small bit of freedom from nausea meant I could actually enjoy breakfast. I pulled out spinach, eggs, salsa and avocado for the biggest, fattest omelet my belly had seen in what felt like ages.
With a big, greedy smile I sat down and dug in.
“Damn, something smells good in here!” Lasso’s bare feet hit the bottom of the steps with a loud smack, his wide, lazy gait eating up the kitchen floor. “Please tell me you made enough for two?”
“Didn’t think you’d be up yet.” I didn’t really know what time he got up though, because I’d planned to make sure I was long gone in case he thought I was trying to lift a few of his precious possessions.
He frowned at me and drank the coffee that had brewed on a timer. “What are you doing up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I answered around a mouthful of omelet.
“Everything okay?” His voice was filled with concern, but I shrugged it off because the last thing I needed was to see that big sexy outlaw cowboy staring at me like I was his something special.
“Yep. Just restless.”
If he was bothered by my short answers, he didn’t show it. Just flashed that panty melting smile and leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee. “What are you up to today?”
I savored the last bite with a little bit of everything on the fork, chewing slowly because I’d made it through a meal—through breakfast—without getting sick. It was a sweet moment that ended with a scowling biker.
“Just running a few errands and mailing a few orders. How about you,” I asked automatically, still the polite southern girl at heart. Yeah, right.
“Fine.” He pushed up from the table and grabbed his coffee before he stormed from the room.
If I didn’t savor being a bitch once in a while, I might have felt bad about that. But I couldn’t find my give a damn, so I cleaned my dishes and went upstairs to get everything I’d need for the day. Including cash for a visit to the medical clinic in town, just in case Genesis was much smarter than I gave him credit for.
A few plans played out in my mind as I loaded up the Blazer and got on the road, but for one reason or another, they all ended the same. With Genesis and his thugs finding me, making me pay and then locking me up to be their little dancer monkey.
I pulled into the parking lot of the family planning clinic, parked in the middle of the lot and looked through the rearview mirror just in time to see a familiar vehicle roll right past me. Checking up on me.
There was no time to worry about Lasso because it was time for my first official doctor’s appointment and I was nervous as hell. Not that there was anything for me to do, really, other than getting probed and interrogated. The difference was there was a baby in there, growing and taking nutrients from me. It was bizarre. But by the time I got up on the crinkly exam paper, my nerves had settled a bit and I was excited to know more.
“Well?” I said to Dr. Hanson.
She had a kind smile and soft brown eyes, somehow understanding the gravity of my situation enough to take a moment before she answered.
“You’re about eight weeks along and everything looks normal. I have a prescription for prenatal vitamins. Take them every day and be sure to eat a healthy, balanced diet. Some things may give you heartburn like onions, pizza, spicy foods. Stay away from alcohol and beer. No smoking. Come back and see me in six weeks or if you leave town, call so we can forward your records to your obstetrician.”
When she asked if I had any questions, I just stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights on a dark road. I had a million questions, but I couldn’t remember a single one.
“Stress!” I just blurted the word out rather than ask a question, but Dr. Hanson smiled.
“Try to keep your stress to a minimum. It’ll be good for you and the baby, just remember that.”
How could I forget? The mixed scents in the waiting room had brought my nausea right to the forefront of my day which meant deep breathing through the doctor’s visit, the trip to the drug store to fill the prescriptions and pick up a couple cases of ginger ale and plain wheat crackers. Also, a little bit of junk food because I wanted to be prepared.
Inside the bookstore, the troublesome scents were the strongest with coffee as the aggressor. I held my breath and quickly perused the pregnancy books. My dad was a good provider but stunk at being a dad. He had no patience or time for things like play time and nurturing unless it would help with his next score. With no role models, I needed all the help I could get. I settled on three different child care and pregnancy manuals before I passed out from holding my breath.
It wasn’t much better outside but at least I could breathe. I felt like I’d driven all around the town of Mayhem and parts of Vegas, stopping at the grocery store, bakery and craft store before heading home. It was a long day and I hoped Lasso would be home soon so I could go to the guest room and crash.
I waited ninety minutes for him. When he didn’t come home I bit the bullet and went inside, leaving my bags beside the bed as I curled on top of it. I remembered one final task before I could finally sleep.
I needed to send Lasso a text.
Chapter 4
Lasso
Hope you got your answers. ~R
That was it, just five words and it had me spooked and a little bit curious about how a little redheaded hippie chick could have spotted my tail. I’d even taken my truck so it wouldn’t be obvious because I was damn curious where she was going that required such secrecy. Maybe I was overreacting. She wasn’t secretive; Rocky just wasn’t sharing any information with me.
Goddammit!
And the worst part was, I couldn’t even blame her. I made her feel unwelcome to the point she spent all day out of the house, pregnant and doing who knew what, all because she misinterpreted what I’d said. But seriously, would it have been so hard to just say she was going to the doctor? I drove past and parked on the street, watching her in the rearview. She looked like she was freaking out or trying not to before she stepped from the car and walked inside on shaky legs. Then I pulled away, picked up my bike and went to meet the guys at the clubhouse.
I asked a few of them to meet me there to work out a solution to the problem of Rocky’s crazy former boss and ex-boyfriend. When I pulled up to the clubhouse Cross waited around the back where customers weren’t allowed. I walked up and he handed me a cold beer.
“A little early for a beer isn’t it?”
He shrugged, leaning back on the wooden table Gunnar had a few of the prospects put together last summer, a sweaty green bottle hanging from his fingertips. “Never too early for beer and this isn’t even the strong shit.”
I took the bottle and drank in silence for several long minutes, trying to make sense of this shit. Rocky had been with me for three days and I hadn’t found out any more information than I had on the first damn day.
“Remember that redhead chick from San Diego?”
“The best night you ever had? Even better than that night in Kiev?”
“Yeah. Well, she’s about two months pregnant with my kid and on the run from her
ex.”
“Shit.” That was Cross, talkative as ever.
“Yeah and she’s not asking me for anything but a few days to come up with a plan, but I can’t just let it go at that. I have to help her, and I hope that means you guys will help too.”
By the time I finished speaking, Savior and Max had come out, along with Golden Boy, Jag and Stitch. Gunnar was still handling personal business and the rest of the guys were taking care of club business.
“Man, this shit is serious.” Jag stepped forward with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “I know of the Killer Aces. A cousin of mine in Long Beach said these fuckers are crazier than regular crazy. Genesis didn’t make it as an Angel of Reckoning, so he put together a bunch of assholes too crazy for any other MC and created Killer Aces. They’ve taken over Southern Cali with brutal efficiency.”
Shit. That’s the last thing I wanted to hear because I could hear what no one had said yet. What they were all trying damn hard not to say, and that bitter irony twisted in my gut because Rocky had said the same damn thing to me.
“So that’s it, then?” I looked around at my friends, my brothers, and they all looked sorry. “I’m not going to let him take her prisoner and definitely not with my kid!”
“Maybe your kid,” Savior clarified. “For all you know she just figured you were the perfect guy to protect her and a fake pregnancy would make you more eager to help.”
“There’s still a big damn chance it’s mine. You’d leave your kid to that fate? You think that shit is right?”
Savior shrugged. “Yo man, it ain’t about right and wrong. It’s about war. Bloody fucking war, man. All for some chick none of us know at all. Risking our lives, the club, for a fucking stranger?” He shrugged again, his gaze deadly serious. “It’s us or it’s her and I’m choosing the Reckless Bastards every goddamn day of the week, twice on Sunday.”
My throat constricted and acid made my gut turn over as reality settled over me like a hot, suffocating blanket. “Everyone agrees with him?” A few of them, Max and Golden Boy, nodded because they didn’t want their women caught in the crossfire of a war. Others just looked away, unable to even look me in the fucking face.