by Lane Hart
I’m out for a ride on my bike, trying to clear my head when I feel my phone vibrating from the front pocket of my cut. As soon as I can, I pull over on the shoulder so that I can kill the engine and answer it.
“Hello?” I answer the unknown number before they hang up.
“Mr. Fury?”
“Yes.”
“We have the results of your paternity tests.”
“Tell me,” I order.
“Um, well, we can’t do that over the phone, sir, since there’s no way for me to be certain of your identity. But the results are here if you want to pick them up.”
“Just fucking tell me, Tina!” I snap since it’s not that big of a town and we all know each other. Her parents are friends with mine, and we went to school together.
“I’m not supposed to,” she replies. “You can’t tell anyone I told you, and you still have to come get the results.”
“Fine,” I agree. “I can be there in fifteen minutes, but I need to know the results right this fucking second.”
“Okay,” she says before taking a deep breath. “You’re the father.”
I suck in so much air I nearly choke on it before I recover enough to say, “Y-you’re sure?”
“Yes,” Tina replies. “It’s a ninety-nine percent match.”
“I’m on my way.”
It won’t seem real until I actually have the piece of paper in my hands. Hell, who the fuck am I kidding? I don’t know if it will ever seem real that, for nine months, a woman carried my son and gave birth to him without me knowing while I was married to another woman, who was also pregnant with my child. How can I wrap my head around that shit?
Lexi’s kid is mine. As if the fucking video wasn’t evidence enough of my adultery, now there’s a living person that will serve as a constant reminder of the night someone drugged me and I did things that I can never take back.
Then there’s the stupid relief that’s the most fucked up part of it all. Relief that Kennedy isn’t here to deal with the fallout. I’m such an asshole for being glad that she died without knowing and without me having to explain to her that I wasn’t fully aware of what I was doing when I had sex with another woman a week before our wedding.
After I drive by the testing facility to pick up the envelope with the results, I ride over to the cemetery to apologize to my old lady.
Climbing off my bike, I hang my helmet on the handlebar and then stride over to her headstone that stands out from all the rest. It’s a towering statue of a praying angel bowing her head. On the ground, nearly obscured by the growing grass, is the marker that has her full name engraved on it with the dates of her birth and death.
Kneeling in front of the angel, I pull the envelope out of my cut and then tear into it to get to the results.
“Here it is in black and white,” I say aloud to Kennedy as the grass starts to make my eyes burn. Or maybe that’s my bottled-up emotions trying to break free. “I’m a father,” I tell her. “How fucked up is that, right? You…you were ready to become a mother, and now you’ll never get the chance. But me…I don’t deserve a second chance. And still, for some reason, I got one.”
Sitting back on my heels, I try and take a deep breath, but the heaviness on my chest is even worse today. Retrieving the flash drive from my pocket, I snap the plastic in half and then bury it down in the dirt that covers my wife and our unborn child’s grave.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Kennedy. “I’m so fucking sorry that you ever met me. That you gave up your family and your friends for me. That you gave up your entire life for me and I was too weak to be loyal to you on the one goddamn night I was tested. You deserved so much better than what I gave you.”
…
The sun is setting when I hear the rumbling of a motorcycle engine before I see it come down the road and into the cemetery.
I don’t even have to look to see who it is. He’s like a shadow; and while he’s given me some space here recently, it’s his job to watch my back.
“How long have you been sitting out here?” War asks. He walks over and then sits down with his back against the tombstone across from Kennedy’s where I’ve been parked for hours, pulling up grass and trying to figure out how to deal with the notion of being a father when I had all but given up on ever having the chance again.
“A while,” I answer.
“Yeah? Are you planning to sleep here tonight?” he asks while glancing around the dark shadows that the clumps of trees are making on the graves. “This place is really damn creepy.”
“It is,” I agree. “She deserves to be someplace nicer.”
“Sorry, man, but I don’t think there are any places better for her,” he says when he rips up a blade of grass and starts tearing it apart.
“You’re probably right,” I agree. Where do you bury a woman who was so young and vibrant, taken away too soon?
“So, what are you doing here?” War asks.
“Thinking.”
“Want to think aloud?” he offers.
“Liam’s mine,” I tell him.
“No shit?” he replies with his brown eyes widening in surprise. “You got the results?”
“Yep.” Pulling the paper out of my pocket, I hold it out for him to take.
War holds it up to the dwindling sunlight to read it and says, “No doubt, man. You’re a father.”
“And how exactly am I supposed to be a father to him?” I ask. “He’s part Hector Cruz, the man who killed my wife and my son. The man I killed just days ago.”
“Things are definitely complicated,” he agrees. “But none of that shit matters to this kid. He didn’t know anything about rivalries or death when he was born. And he doesn’t have to know about them when he grows up.”
“So, I’ll be what? A part-time father? Share custody with Lexi, who lives on the other side of the country? Maybe see him on his birthday and holidays?” I ask.
“What kind of father do you want to be?” he inquires.
“I don’t know anymore. The whole idea got blown to smithereens when Kennedy and the baby died.”
“What kind of father would you have been to that kid?” War asks. “Whatever kind it was, don’t you think this boy deserves the same, even though he has a different mother?”
“Yes,” I agree on a sigh. “But with Kennedy, we would have been a real family. Things would’ve been easy. I don’t even know Lexi. The only reason she’s in my life now is because I kidnapped her!”
“Man, I get it,” War says. “Why do you think I kept letting Marcie come back into my and Ren’s life so many times? She’s his mother, and I wanted him to have a family. But things don’t always work out the way we want them to. You have to make the best out of a bad situation.”
“I don’t even know where the fuck to start,” I grumble as I run my fingers through my hair.
“You could start by spending time with your son,” War suggests.
“He’s a baby. All he does is cry, eat, and sleep. It’s not like he’ll notice if I’m around.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” he replies. “But you will know you’re around. Maybe you’ll see that being a father, loving your kid, isn’t as hard as you think.”
“I fell in love with the baby at Kennedy’s first ultrasound, but I don’t feel anything for this boy yet.”
“By the time she had that ultrasound, you had had a few weeks to come to terms with being a father, what that meant. Finding out this news was abrupt and unexpected. It takes time for it to start sinking in. Just wait and see.”
“Yeah,” I agree. I’ve never been good at the waiting and seeing, having zero patience for anything. Guess I don’t have a choice in this. Somehow, I’ll need to figure things out, including how to be a parent with Lexi. But if she runs right off back to Vegas tomorrow, then it’s gonna be a helluva lot harder to get to know my son when he’s thousands of miles away.
I need to find her and talk to her, convince her to stay a little longer.
And if t
hat doesn’t work, well, then I may have to break out the zip-ties and duct tape again.
“What’s wrong?” War asks when he notices the frown on my face caused by my body’s unfortunate reaction to thinking about Lexi restrained again.
“Nothing,” I lie while I remember the night Lexi ran and I had to chase and tackle her to the ground. I shouldn’t have been turned on by the way she fought me or the way I was easily able to dominate her. And yet, I was. Hell, my cock is swelling just at the memory. I’m a disgusting bastard, because I can’t help but wish that Lexi would give me another reason to tie her up and chase her down again.
Chapter Sixteen
Lexi
I’ve been sitting on the edge of the bed in the clubhouse apartment for almost an hour, rocking Liam and singing to him. Every time I think he’s ready to lie down, he startles awake and starts to cry. He never had this much trouble falling asleep when we were back home in Vegas, and I’m starting to think there is something about being here at the Savage Asylum that is making him anxious.
I know it’s making me anxious.
Torin was supposed to get the results of the DNA test today or tomorrow. I’m not worried about what it will show, as he was the only possible candidate. I’m worried about how he will react once he has that certainty for himself. Will he want to be a part of Liam’s life? Will he want to be part of my life? If he does, what the hell am I supposed to do with myself? I can’t keep living in the basement of his bar.
Even worse, though, would be if he doesn’t want to be a part of Liam’s life. I was doing all right on my own before, when I couldn’t let Torin know about the baby. But now that he does, how would I feel if he completely rejects us? The thought is heart-breaking, and the uncertainty of not knowing which way Torin will land on us is tearing me apart.
Finally, I come to the realization that if anything is making Liam fussy, it’s the nervousness he’s picking up from me. I force myself to calm down and slow my breathing; but just when I think I’m getting myself under control, I hear the sound of heavy, clumping boots outside my door. A gentle knock follows a moment later, before Torin peeks into the room.
“Lexi, we need to talk. Is this a good time?” Torin asks me.
“Yes, yes, it’s fine,” I assure him, adjusting Liam on my shoulder. Thankfully, he snuggles down against me; and with a heavy sigh, he seems to settle down.
“How’s our little man doing?” Torin asks, coming over to stand by the bed.
“He’s been fussy, but I’m starting to think it’s my fault,” I admit. “I’ve been trying to figure out where to go from here and waiting to talk to you.”
“I got the results,” Torin says. “No surprise to you, though, huh?”
“It had to be you,” I tell him as I meet his gaze. “There was no one else. I told you the truth.”
“I realize that now,” Torin agrees, before sitting down on the bed beside me. “Which is why, if you’re willing, I hope you’ll agree to stay here with me while we…while we figure things out, day by day. What do you think?”
“What do you need to figure out, Torin?” I whisper. “You know he’s your son. What do you want to do?”
“It’s not that simple, Lexi. You know that. I brought you here against your will but had every intention of letting you get back to your life. Now I find out that your life, well…your life is my life. Liam is my son. My son,” Torin repeats in wonder with a shake of his head.
“You want to be his father, be a part of his life?” I ask.
“Let’s start there,” Torin says. “Yes, I absolutely want to be a part of his life. I feel like the next question should be, how much do you want me to be a part of yours?”
We’re sitting so close together that I can smell leather and what I think is engine oil from his Harley. I find myself leaning towards him slightly as our eyes meet and have to turn my head before I get pulled in too close. I can’t let the effect he has on me influence any decisions regarding Liam!
“I don’t know yet,” I manage to say through lips that suddenly seem barren and dry. “I’d like to try what you said, take it day by day with each other, and see how we do. I just….” I trail off, uncertain how to articulate what I’m feeling.
“Just what, Lexi? Tell me what you need,” Torin prompts.
“God, you’re going to think I’m an idiot,” I say as I turn back to him. No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep a tear from running down my face. Torin sees it and quickly reaches up to wipe it away, leaving his hand cradling the side of my head. “Don’t laugh, okay? I’m just…just lonely, you know? It’s only been Liam and me down here the last couple of days. I mean I’ve seen other people upstairs around the bar, but no one talks to me, and they all think of me as ‘Hector’s daughter.’ I don’t want to be that person, Torin. I never wanted to be that person.”
“Lexi, I’m sorry,” Torin says. “I know I’ve been scarce the last couple of days, trying to figure all this out, and I should have known my brothers would be a little strange towards you. Let me talk to everyone, okay? Don’t give up on us. We’re a tight family, and it takes a little while to open up to new faces,” he adds, leaning behind me to watch Liam sleeping. “Give me a day or two? I’ll meet with everyone and explain the situation, talk to them about you, me, and Liam. Please, give us a chance.”
I nod in agreement, smiling at Torin before he takes his hand away from my face. He looks at his palm for a moment in confusion, then stands up abruptly.
“I’m gonna take care of a few things right now; but if you’re willing, I’ll swing by on and off this evening, okay?”
“Thanks, Torin,” I reply.
As he leaves the room, I realize that my anxiety seems to have been swept out with him, leaving me feeling hopeful and also strangely warm and tingling. Liam seems comforted too and doesn’t struggle at all as I lay him down in his crib. Once he’s down, I snuggle down into my own bed. Exhaustion makes it easy to put everything else aside, and I quickly fall into my own well-deserved sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Torin
“It’s good to have you back,” I tell Chase when he struts into the Savage Asylum like he’s the king of the world after a two-week honeymoon with his old lady. He’s not the only one settling down around here. Apparently, Abe has fallen for Sasha’s best friend, Mercy, and is moving out of the clubhouse to live with her.
After we embrace, Chase asks, “So what happened with Hector?”
“I ripped him apart,” I explain simply.
Chase’s face turns ruby red, just like when he would get angry as a kid before he erupts. I knew it wouldn't take long once he got back. “Why the fuck didn’t you wait for me?” Chase shouts.
“Let’s talk outside,” I grumble. I grab him by the elbow and pull him out the door to the front parking lot. He jerks away from me as soon as we clear it.
“Start talking!” he yells.
“First of all, as my VP, you don’t get to question the decisions I make for the club,” I remind him with my hands braced on my hips.
“Since when do you rank above me?” he asks while smacking his palm against my chest, right in the empty spot on the leather cut where the president patch used to be. The one Kennedy sewed on years ago and I removed with my knife the day after she died.
“Since now. Since last fucking week, okay?” I answer. “I don’t know where my flash is, or I’d sew it back on. Or have someone else sew it on,” I add, since I don’t know much about handling needles.
“Fuck you,” Chase says, as he reaches inside of his cut. I hear him unzip a pocket, and then he pulls out the small, rectangular patch with the word “PRESIDENT” written on it in all caps. Offering it to me, he says, “You better not cut it off again or I’ll sew it to your skin,” he warns.
“I won’t,” I agree with a smirk. “You’ll bury me wearing it.”
“Don’t fucking say that shit either,” he says. “We’ve had enough funerals to last a lifetime.”
“True,” I agree. There was a hole in me when we lost our Uncle Deacon that was doubled when I had to watch Kennedy bleed to death with my son. Now that I have a second chance to be a father, it makes me feel guilty, like I’m forgetting the son I lost.
“There’s, ah, there’s something else I need to talk to you about,” I tell Chase.
“Okay? Did you have a shootout with someone else I should know about?” he huffs.
“No,” I reply. “And this…this is probably something that will be easier to believe when you see it.”
“Now you’re just scaring me,” he teases with a grin.
“Come on,” I tell him. I open the door and lead him downstairs to the apartment he recently moved out of.
“You’re staying here now?” Chase asks.
“Ah, yeah, but not in your room,” I reply. I rap my knuckles on the door softly in case Liam’s asleep. It takes a moment for Lexi to open up. When she does, the baby’s sleeping on her shoulder, his face turned toward hers with his tiny lips parted.
I have to clear my throat when a lump wells up, a surge of emotions triggered by seeing how damn sweet my son looks snuggled up to his mother. A sight I only got to see with Kennedy right before we laid her and the baby to rest in the ground. Finally, I’m able to say, “Chase, meet Lexi. Lexi, this is my brother Chase.”
“Uh, hi,” Chase mutters as the two manage an awkward handshake around the baby.
Gently placing my large palm on the tiny baby’s back, I try to spit out the words. “And, um, well, this is my…my son, our son, Liam.”
Chase arches one of his reddish-blond eyebrows as he looks at the kid and then at me and then the kid again.
“But…how?” he finally asks.
“I thought Dad had the birds and bees’ conversation with you when you were fourteen,” I tease him to try and deflect from the truth.