Music is playing, and there, dancing gracefully on the pole is Alex, the VP’s wife. Swiftly turning my head like all the San Diego brothers, I start to head to the bar.
“She’s incredible,” Swift breathes out, watching Alex move.
“Fuckin’ is,” Bolt admires.
“Eyes off my fuckin’ ol’ lady,” Dart snarls, then calls out. “Alex?”
“Just finishing up,” she calls back, swirls around one last time, then sinks to the floor, landing perfectly. Of course, all this I see out of the side of my eye.
Swift immediately approaches her.
A wail announces Eva’s entrance. She’s carrying Dart and Alex’s baby, who’s what? Fifteen months or so now. The kid spies her parents and wriggles her way out of Eva’s arms, and starts weaving drunkenly toward her mother. Then, she spies her dad, and, as fast as her little legs will take her, changes direction.
Dart crouches and holds out his arms. “Who’s my clever girl?” he asks, as he sweeps her up. “You been good for Auntie Eva?”
For an answer, she sticks her thumb in her mouth.
Seeing how besotted he is, I have to ask. “You happy being a dad, Dart?”
“Already was one to Tyler.” He reminds me of how he’s adopted Alex’s nine-year-old boy. “And this littl’ un’s just the icing on the top.” He glances at me, seeing I’ve asked the question seriously. “Wouldn’t change it for the world, Brother.” He grins, and, though his arms are full, nudges my arm with his elbow. “Why, you thinking of starting a family yourself?” He chuckles as though he’s made a good joke.
When I don’t join in laughing, or answer immediately, his mirth fades. “Grumbler?”
I lean in. “Broken condom,” I tell him.
“You fuckin’ what?” Dart’s eyes widen.
“Language, Dart!” Somehow Alex hears and admonishes him, then gets back to talking with Swift.
“Christ. This is good.” His brow furrows. “How old is Mary?”
“Forty-seven.”
He slaps my back. “So you’ve got nothing to worry about, have you?”
“What’s Grumbler worrying about now?” Salem’s none too gentle when it’s his palm now landing on my cut.
Dart shoots me a look, then betrays me completely. “Grumbler’s had a condom misfunction.”
Salem snorts. “But you’re both too old, surely?”
“Hopefully,” I tell him. “Fuckin’ hopefully.”
“That’s it.” Alex steps up, taking Isla from her father. “We’ll be lucky if the first thing she says doesn’t begin with an f.”
“She already says, Dada.” Dart grins at her. Yeah, Alex is pissed Isla doesn’t call her momma as yet. Dart certainly milks that.
“You pregnant?” Pennywise must have overheard—his expression looks like a mixture of shock and amusement.
Why did I open my mouth?
“Impossible,” Salem observes. “What’s the likelihood of you having a baby?”
Pennywise shakes his head. “Is this a cause for celebration, Brother?”
“Fuckin’ no.” I round on them. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s highly unlikely. Even if she is, it’s got to be risky. I don’t know what the fuck I want, but I sure didn’t plan on having a baby.”
“Keeps you young, old man,” Dart observes, wisely.
I’m wondering how to shut this conversation down, when their attention is caught by something behind me. I turn as well. Swift has pulled herself up on the pole and is contorting lithely.
“Now I see what Road sees in her,” Pennywise murmurs. “Just watch those muscles work.”
“I can still take her,” Salem growls.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Mary
“So, is he hot?”
I grin at Kristen who’s in her normal position, hanging over the partition between our cubicles. For an answer, I pretend to fan myself. To me, Grumbler is indeed good-looking, to someone younger, perhaps not.
During my sleepless hours in the night, I considered how I’d approach this morning. I’d veered from telling my friends what had happened, to keeping everything bottled up. I’d come down on the side of full disclosure. I need someone to talk to, someone to bounce ideas off. It may help me get perspective. Who else could I trust, except for my closest friends? It hadn’t been a mistake. While I’d surprised the hell out of them when I’d answered their polite enquiry about my weekend, there had been no censure, just sympathy. Though they had taken a moment to take it all in.
Kristen wants to know all about my biker. Terra focuses on something else. “How’s Alicia now? Dreadful thing to happen to a young girl. She must be crushed.”
I recall Alicia this morning, she’d seemed eager enough to get back to school. “She seems to have accepted she’s joined the club of losing her virginity to someone who wasn’t worth it.” I grimace. “There’s enough of us in it.”
“But not all of us were filmed. You sure your boyfriend is going to be able to get that video locked down?” Terra shudders. “I’d hate to think there was a porn film of me out there.”
“I have confidence he will,” I say. “And Alicia’s convinced he’ll do what he says.”
“Don’t you think she should have gone to the cops?”
“She’s too embarrassed,” I respond to Kristen. “And it was consensual, it wasn’t rape. There was nothing untoward until it was filmed, and it’s only her word for that. They might think she was making things up to get back at a man who slighted her after he took what he wanted.”
“It’s the way of the world,” Terra confirms. “It would be her words against his, no marks showing force. And, if that film, hopefully, never turns up, no proof she was videoed during the act.”
“But she’s underage,” Kristen protests. “He should be arrested for that.”
I shrug. “He should, but she’d have to face him in court, and I wouldn’t want to put her through that.” I believe Grumbler when he says Owen will never bother us again, even if I don’t like to consider why he’s so certain.
“As long as Alicia can put it behind her and move on. Maybe learn a lesson not to go behind her mom’s back.” Terra winks at me.
I smile. “Hopefully she’ll now respect that I know what I’m talking about.”
“Getting back to your man. When are we going to meet him? Can you get him to come out for a drink with us one night?”
Could I see an after-work get-together with Grumbler in tow? I don’t think he’d mind. The problem is, we’ve still got things to discuss, things that might influence where our fledgling relationship goes.
As Art comes into view, Kristen ducks down and goes back to work. After Art talks to me for a moment about a job he wants done, he disappears again. It’s then Terra starts quizzing me in earnest.
“What’s on your mind?” she asks, her voice low.
I wonder whether to tell her, but in honesty, she’s not only my friend, but is close to my own age. I can’t talk to Alicia for obvious reasons. This is one of the things I’ve warned her about.
Glancing around to make sure Kristen’s heads down in her cubicle and no one else is around, I tilt my head and say quietly, “The condom broke.”
“What? Alicia’s?”
I shake my head. “No, thank God for that. Grumbler’s.”
Terra snorts loudly. Frantically, I wave her to stay silent. When she’s finished chuckling, she tells me, “Well thank goodness you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“You don’t think? I’ve not gone through menopause.”
She shakes her head. “Fertility goes down drastically with age. I have a friend. When she was forty-four she met the man of her dreams, got married, and wanted to start a family. She’d turned forty-five by the time she started trying. It never happened for her, even with fertility treatments.”
That’s sad, wanting a family and not being able to have one.
I’m not against abortion per se, it’s every woman
’s right to choose. But as far as I go, I’d always felt aborting a foetus was a kick in the teeth in the face of women who’d give their eye teeth to give birth. As long as I was in the position to raise a child, I’d always see it as a blessing. Or so, I’d thought. Now?
“Grumbler suggested the morning-after pill.”
“He want you to take it?”
My head moves side to side. “No pressure, just a suggestion.” It’s a sensible one and a way to make certain.
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t know,” I wail softly. “I don’t know what I want. On one hand, it’s ridiculous continuing a pregnancy if, in the unlikely event I am. I’m too old to raise a baby, and I’m nearing the time when Alicia would be off my hands and I’d be able to live my life. Having a baby now ties me down until I’m nearing seventy.”
“So take the pill,” she says reasonably. She pauses for a moment to answer an email. “Does Grumbler want a kid? Would he support you?”
I smile, remembering his words last night. “He says he would now, but he’s nearing sixty, Terra. Will he really want all the shit that goes with bringing a child up?”
“He hasn’t other kids?”
“No, never had any. He’s never been in a relationship before.”
Terra’s eyes go comically wide. “And you think he’s a good bet as father material?”
She’s only said what I’ve been wondering myself. I simply shrug. “He is good with Alicia.”
And good with that guitar of his. I get goosebumps as I remember. His voice, so deep, so full of emotion when he sings, and those long fingers of his... I snap myself out of it. I’m at work.
“From that faraway look you got just there, I’d say he’s got something going for him. Tell me, has he any other hot biker friends in his age group?”
“I don’t know.” I laugh. “I’ll have to ask him.”
The volume of our voices has increased.
“A younger one for me, please,” Kristen cries out.
Terra and I look at each other and burst out laughing.
Seeing Art approaching again, Terra and I buckle down to our work. I’ve been given something complicated, so I lose myself in the ins and outs of zoning restrictions and the like, checking and double-checking facts to make sure what I’ll be telling the client is right. Before I know it, it’s clocking out time and I can go home. Stretching my arms over my head, I let out a yawn.
Terra nudges me in the ribs. “Ouch.”
“Best make that hunk let you sleep tonight. You’re not young enough to burn the midnight oil anymore.”
“Speak for yourself.” I wink at her.
“Don’t forget to ask him about any hotties for us!” Kristen calls out when I give her a wave of my hand.
I’m fine until I get to the underground parking lot and sit in the driver’s seat of my car. Then everything comes back to me. Will Grumbler be cross I’ve not gotten the morning-after pill? Did I make a conscious decision not to get it? Should I stop off on the way home and get it now?
I stare at the steering wheel in the hope that it might give me some answers.
Surely a baby at my age is not what I want?
How does Grumbler really feel? I wish I could read his mind. But, if I can’t read my own, what chance have I got?
At last I switch on the engine, put my car into drive, and head out into the traffic. I go straight home, wondering what time Grumbler will arrive.
Well that’s one puzzle easily solved as soon as I park on the drive. He’s already here, or at least, that’s his bike.
Putting my key in the front door, when it opens, I step inside, coming to a halt at the sight in front of me. Grumbler’s crouched down in front of the couch, patiently positioning Alicia’s fingers on the fret board of her guitar.
“You’ve got it. That’s C. Now go to G, then back to C.”
“It sounds better when you do it.”
“Feel that?” Grumbler holds out his fingertips to her. “Feel those callouses? Your fingers have got to harden a bit, then that guitar will be ringing out.”
Alicia looks up and sees me. She beams. “Grumbler bought new strings, Mom. Only, when they’re new, they stretch at first. It needs tuning a lot.”
“Only for the first day or so,” Grumbler explains. “Want me to do it again?”
“I got this,” Alicia tells him, then slowly proceeds to tune it herself. Experimentally, she goes to try a chord she just learned, then grimaces, and starts her tuning again.
“She’s got a good ear,” Grumbler tells me. “Now she knows what it’s supposed to sound like, she knows when it’s wrong.”
I place my purse and keys on the side, then frown. “You been here long?” I realise he must have been to have restrung the guitar.
“’Bout half an hour.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Alicia suddenly jumps up. “Got homework to do.”
As she disappears in the direction of her bedroom, I raise my eyebrows. “Who was that, and what have you done with my daughter?”
“Told her to give us five minutes when you got home, babe. Bargained with her with those new strings I got.” He picks up the guitar she’d left leaning against the couch and replaces it on its stand.
“How much were they?”
Grumbler’s eyes widen. “Fuck, woman. You don’t have to pay me back. Her smile was all the payment necessary.” He walks forward and takes hold of my hands. He stares down into my face for a moment, then, releasing one of mine, lifts his now free hand up to caress my cheek. “You okay?”
“I didn’t get the pill.” I wait for his reaction.
He doesn’t use words, in fact, he pulls me to him. “You know anything coming of this is very unlikely, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t mind letting things ride. See where they take us. But it’s easy for me to say, isn’t it, babe?”
“I can find out in about ten days, I think.” I’m not totally sure. “If I am, I’ll need to think about the implications. But, as you say, I’m certain I’m not.”
“Been doing some thinking today,” he tells me. “Let’s just say, I won’t be disappointed whichever way this turns out. Hey, babe. Boys voted you in. You’re officially my ol’ lady. If that’s what you want.” He adds the last fast.
Do I?
At work it had been back to normality after the fiasco of the weekend and a relationship with a biker seemed so out of place and out of character for me. Now, faced with Grumbler, I know I don’t want to turn him down.
He holds out his hand. “Come, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
I half expect him to take me into the bedroom, but instead he leads me outside and indicates his bike. I stare at it for a moment, trying to see what he’s pointing out.
“Is that new?” The seat looks different.
“Fitted it for you, babe. Want to go try it out?”
“Me? I…?” My voice squeaks as I try to think of an excuse.
“We won’t go far, just around the block. See how you take to it.”
“I can’t. Alicia…”
He chuckles in that deep sexy way he has. “She can’t look after herself for a few minutes?”
He’s right. Of course she can. My mouth opens and closes as I try to think of a reason why I can’t, dismissing any before I voice them, already hearing his comebacks in my head. Reminding myself he’s gone to the bother of putting a passenger seat on his beloved bike just for me, in the end I think, what can it hurt? Just a quick ride around the block and then I’ll be able to tell him, for me, riding doesn’t work.
Suddenly I find what I’m searching for. “I haven’t got a helmet.”
But this, too, he has an answer for. “Sure you have, I brought a lid for you.”
Of course he has.
He prods me in the back. “Go, grab a jacket. Tell Alicia we’ll be gone half an hour tops.”
I’m Mary. I’m a middle-aged mom. I don’t do anythi
ng spur of the moment. I think everything through carefully first. Riding a motorcycle is dangerous, everyone knows that. I already know I’m going to hate it. I’ll feel vulnerable and at risk without the comforts and safety of a metal cage wrapped around me. I’d chosen my car because of its safety rating.
But seeing the set expression on his face, the raised eyebrow in challenge, I know he won’t let this drop.
I grimace, allowing my distaste to show, then capitulate. “Once around the block?”
He visibly relaxes. “Go tell Alicia.”
I go first to my bedroom, dragging an old denim jacket out of the back of my closet. It’s years’ old, and heaven knows why I kept it, but I hope the material is thick enough to afford some protection in case we crash. Then, I change my work pants for a pair of old jeans. Finally, seeing the lack of appropriate footwear, settle for a pair of tennis shoes.
When I get to my daughter’s room, I’m ready for an inquisition.
“Alicia. Grumbler and I are just going out. We won’t be long.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s taking me on his bike.”
“Uh-huh.”
Her lack of reaction puzzles me, and I take a step inside her room. “You don’t mind?”
“Why the hell should I? I’ve ridden with Grumbler before.”
I suddenly wonder how. “He had no passenger seat. How did you ride with him?”
“It wasn’t far.” She glances at the screen of her laptop and scrunches her eyes. “He edged up on his seat, and I squeezed on behind him. I’m small.”
Does the fact he’s got me a special seat mean I’ve got a big ass? I suppose, in comparison with my slim-as-hell daughter, I have.
“I’m busy, Mom. Enjoy your ride.”
Why hadn’t she objected? If my daughter had begged me not to go on such a dangerous machine, I’d have had reason to refuse him, but the last obstacle has been cleared.
With trepidation, I follow Grumbler out to his ride. Despite my apprehension, I still have to admire it. It absolutely gleams. Even the passenger seat he’s added seems to enhance it, the rest at the end, hopefully which will stop me slipping off, has Live to Ride, Ride to Live, emblazoned on it.
Grumbler's Ride: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #2 Page 29