Savior (Blackwings MC - Devil Springs Book 3)

by Teagan Brooks

  “I’m sorry that happened, man, but it’s not the same. You didn’t have a choice; you had to follow the command you were given.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, just like you don’t have a choice when your body falls asleep.”

  I sat up and opened my mouth to argue, but he continued, “If sleeping was a voluntary action, the world wouldn’t be full of people with insomnia. You can’t tell me you’ve never tried to fall asleep and couldn’t or tried to stay awake and couldn’t.”

  Well, shit. I’d never thought about it like that, but it still didn’t change anything.

  “I fucked his wife,” I blurted.

  Shaker’s eyes widened, and he made a faint choking noise. “You what?”

  “I didn’t know it was her. I only saw a few pictures of her right after the accident. She looks completely different now.”

  “You didn’t recognize her name?”

  I shook my head. “She said her name was Grace. The wife’s name is Avery.”

  “How’d you figure it out?”

  I sighed. “I fell asleep on her couch after I finished fucking her. Went to take a piss before I left and saw a picture of her kids hanging on the wall.”

  “Shit,” he cursed. “You think she knew who you were?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. If she did, I don’t know what her game plan was. Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not going to see her again.”

  Shaker nodded. “That sounds like a good plan. But listen, man, you can’t let this shit continue to eat you alive from the inside out. You’ve got to find a healthy way to deal with it.”

  “I’m not going to counseling,” I stated. Gramps had already tried to get me to start therapy right after the wreck. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to discuss my deepest and darkest of truths with a complete stranger—a stranger I was paying.

  He pulled out his phone and quickly typed something before putting it away. “I just sent you Harper’s contact info. She’s a great therapist, and she’s helped me deal with some of my own shit. Before you say no, think about it. No one has to know, and what could it hurt?”

  I’d heard Harper was an excellent therapist, but going to her with my own problems had never crossed my mind. If I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t sure I wanted help.

  “In the meantime, I think you need to find a way to channel your anger.”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “Yeah, you fucking are; you just do a damn good job of suppressing it. By the looks of it, I’d say you use alcohol as one way to hide your emotions.”

  “When did you become the all-knowing biker Yoda?” I snapped.

  He laughed. “I’m not giving out all my secrets today.”

  The garage door opened and Keegan stuck her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but, um, I need you to come inside. Right now,” she said, and Shaker instantly got to his feet.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he followed her inside. Instinct kicked in, and I got up to see what was going on as well.

  “Look, Jakey! Cheese and Whiskers had babies!” Gabriella squealed in excitement. “And they’re pink!”

  “Ranger!” Shaker bellowed.

  Keegan started to laugh but slapped her hand over her mouth. “As soon as he saw them, he ran out of here like his pants were on fire.”

  “Yeah, I bet he did since he’s the one who bought her two ‘male’ mice. I wonder if Copper and Bronze could feed them to Slither and Squeeze,” Shaker mused.

  Gabriella screamed in horror as tears ran down her face. “No! You big meanie!” Then, the spunky little girl junk punched Shaker with all of her might.

  “Fuck,” he groaned and hunched over while he cupped his balls.

  “Tell him no, Sissy!” Gabriella wailed. “You won’t kill my babies!”

  Shaker’s head shot up, and his eyes filled with pain. “I’m sorry, Gabby,” he croaked. “It was a bad joke,” he said and dropped down to his knees. “You can keep them all if that’s what you want,” he said and held his arms out to her.

  Gabriella glared at Shaker for several moments before Keegan nudged her forward. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Shaker said while he smoothed her hair and tried to comfort her.

  “Hey, little slugger, where’d you learn to throw a punch like that?” I asked, hoping to distract her.

  She pulled back and smiled proudly. “Papa taught me. He said if a man ever tried to make me do something I didn’t want to, all I had to do was punch him in his zipper.”

  “Wifey, we’re going to have to have a talk with your grandfather,” Shaker grumbled.

  Keegan was trying to hold in her amusement, but she cracked when I openly laughed. “I’ll talk to her about it,” Keegan promised. “Gabby, let’s go find out what we need to do to take care of baby mice. Then, we need to go to the pet store and get another cage, because Cheese and Whiskers can’t live in the same one anymore.”

  “But they’re married, and they love each other. You can’t make them get divorced,” Gabriella said as they left the room.

  Shaker chuckled and got back to his feet. “That kid can throw a punch.”

  “Looked like it.”

  “Speaking of throwing punches, you ever thought about getting into sparring or boxing at a gym? Hell, even just going to town on a punching bag is a great way to relieve some stress,” he suggested.

  I shrugged. “No, but I’d rather try that than talking to Harper.”

  9

  Avery

  Several weeks passed with no sign of Savior. We fell asleep on the sofa one night, and when I woke up, he was gone. I’d been back to the bar a few times hoping to run into him, but he was never there. I spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to figure out how to cross paths with him again before I realized I had something much bigger to focus on.

  “Mommy!” my babies squealed as they came through the front door.

  I knelt down and wrapped my arms around both of them. “Oh, I missed you so much! I’m so glad you’re home. Did you have a good time?” I rambled through my tears.

  They both started to chatter at the same time, rushing to tell me all about their summer vacation with Nana and Papa, who were grinning from ear to ear.

  “You two go put your things in your room, and I’ll get dinner started,” I told them.

  My mother followed me into the kitchen while my dad dropped onto the sofa and turned on the television. “How are you doing, honey?” she asked in a concerned tone.

  “I’m okay,” I answered quickly and started pulling things from the pantry.

  “You don’t look so good.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I replied sarcastically. Truthfully, I hadn’t felt well in over a week, but not so much that I felt like I needed to go to the doctor. Since my husband died, I slept like shit, so I never truly felt great.

  “I mean it, Avery. A mother knows when something is wrong with her child. What’s going on?”

  I shrugged. “You know I don’t sleep so well anymore. It was a little worse with the kids gone.”

  “Honey, we could’ve come back early, or you could’ve joined us. I thought you wanted some time to yourself,” she said.

  “I did, Mom. I haven’t felt great for the last day or two. I don’t know; maybe I’m coming down with something.”

  “Well, go sit down. I’ll take care of dinner,” she insisted and shooed me away.

  “Thanks, Mom. I’m going to go lay down until dinner’s ready.”

  I felt like shit leaving my mother to cook dinner for my children when she’d been doing it all summer, but I was suddenly overcome with exhaustion.

  The moment I crawled into bed, a wave of dizziness hit me and cold beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I closed my eyes and tried to remain as still as possible while taking slow, deep breaths. I had just gotten my nausea under control when my mother entered the room.

  “Avery!” she gasped, and then I felt her cool hand on my forehead. “Frank! Bring me a glass of ice water and
my purse!”

  Mom’s hands disappeared, and I heard the water running in the bathroom. Seconds later, she returned with a cool washcloth for my face.

  “What’s wrong, dear?” my dad asked.

  “Avery’s sick. Can you get the kids started on dinner?” she asked.

  “Of course,” my dad said and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Let your mom take care of you, peanut.”

  “Here,” my mother said and thrust something at my face. “You need to eat.”

  “I can’t eat right now,” I groaned and pushed her hand away.

  “Honey, you need to try to eat something,” she insisted.

  “Mom, if I try to eat anything right now, it won’t stay down for long. I’ll try to eat something in a little bit. I just want to go to sleep.”

  “Okay, honey, but I’m going to stay right here with you. Your dad can handle the kids for the evening.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled and drifted off to sleep.

  I woke with the unmistakable feeling of impending vomit and bolted for the bathroom. I barely made it before what little was in my stomach came out followed by horrendous dry heaves. When it finally stopped, my mom helped me get cleaned up and back into bed.

  For the next two days, all I did was sleep, wake up to puke, and go back to sleep. On the third day, I jumped out of bed and started for the toilet, but a wave of dizziness washed over me, and I hit the floor before I made it to the bathroom.

  “Frank!” my mother screamed. I could hear the horror in her voice, but I couldn’t make myself respond. Instead, I succumbed to the darkness.

  Buzzing, beeping, and whispers woke me. Opening my eyes, I glanced around the brightly lit room in confusion. “Mom?” I croaked when my eyes landed on her.

  “Avery!” she gasped. “You scared the shit out of me. How are you feeling, sweetie?”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  My mother covered her mouth with one hand and shook her head while holding up one finger with the other. When she composed herself, she said, “You fainted and wouldn’t wake up. You were so cold and still. I thought—” She shook her head again. “I thought we’d lost you.”

  “What? Where are the kids?” I asked and felt the panic rising. My babies would be terrified if they’d witnessed any of it.

  “They’re with your dad. They didn’t see anything,” she reassured me. “We told them I was taking you to the doctor.”

  Right on cue, a doctor entered my room. “Mrs. Parker, I’m Dr. Alvarez. How are you feeling?”

  “Like shit,” I answered honestly.

  She smiled kindly and nodded her head. “We’ll see if we can do something about that. How long have you been sick?”

  “Just a few days.”

  “I see,” she said and directed her attention to Mom. “Ma’am, I need to do a quick physical. Would you mind stepping outside for just a moment?”

  My mother whirled around and looked at the doctor as if she’d asked her to step outside naked. “Mom, it’s fine. Go get some coffee or something,” I suggested.

  “Well, if you’re sure, I could use a fresh cup of coffee.”

  As soon as my mother left the room, I asked, “What did you find? I’m only twenty-six. I’m too young for cancer. Wait, is it cancer? Am I dying?”

  Dr. Alvarez shook her head. “No, we didn’t find any cancer. And, technically, everyone is dying, but we didn’t find anything to indicate death in your near future. I’m sorry if I scared you, but I’ve made it a policy to only deliver test results to the patient without an audience. With that said, you’re severely dehydrated, you have a UTI that has spread to your kidneys, and you’re pregnant.”

  If she’d told me aliens had landed and used magic to make pigs fly, I would’ve been less shocked. “That’s not possible,” I whispered.

  She arched an eyebrow. “Do you have a uterus?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Are you sexually active?”

  “Fuck,” I breathed.

  “Yep, that’s how it happens.”

  “I can’t be pregnant,” I cried. “I can’t be.”

  She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “Were you sexually assaulted?”

  I gaped at her. “N-no, I wasn’t. I’m just, I mean, this wasn’t planned. Like at all.” I cupped my hands over my face. “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.

  “You don’t have to make any decisions at this time. Right now, we’re going to treat your kidney infection and get you rehydrated. Your mother said you have two children; did you have severe morning sickness with either of those pregnancies?”

  I shook my head, still reeling from the news. “Uh, no, not anything like this.”

  “Okay, well, we’re going to keep you overnight to get some fluids and antibiotics in you. We’ll also give you something for nausea. When you can keep food and oral antibiotics down, we’ll let you go home,” she explained.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Um, I would like to keep the news to myself for the time being.”

  “Absolutely. It’s against the law for healthcare workers to discuss your medical information without your consent.”

  “Knock, knock. May I come in?” my mother called from the other side of the door.

  “Yes, ma’am. We’ve just finished up. I’ll go put some orders in for you. We’ll also let you have some clear liquids and see how you do with those before letting you have anything heavier.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Alvarez.”

  “Well, what did she say?”

  I sighed. “She said I have a UTI that has turned into a kidney infection and I’m severely dehydrated. They want to keep me in the hospital until they’re sure I can keep the pills down,” I explained.

  “Oh, thank goodness it’s something simple.”

  “Yeah,” I said solemnly. It was anything but simple.

  10

  Savior

  I tried to make sure I stayed busy because, whenever I wasn’t, I found myself thinking about Avery Grace and her children. I would always look for ways to help the kids; it was just something I needed to do, but having any kind of relationship with her was out of the question—not that it was ever my intention in the first place.

  I started hitting the gym hard. Coal began tagging along after the first week, and soon after, Grant joined us when he could. We hit the gym at least five days a week, and it was starting to show. The three of us were getting bigger, and my overall mood had noticeably improved.

  I was just coming out of the locker room after my shower when a guy I didn’t know stopped me. “You got a sec?” he asked.

  “Nah, man. I gotta be somewhere in a few minutes.”

  “Wanted to know if you and your boys were interested in an opportunity to make some extra cash?” he asked, and I was instantly on alert.

  “Appreciate the offer, but I’m good,” I said and moved to step around him.

  “Really? You don’t want to know how you can make ten grand in less than an hour?”

  “Nope. Cause chances are it’s not legal, and that’s not my thing,” I said and continued on my way.

  “What did he want?” Coal asked when I stepped outside the gym.

  “Wanted to know if I was interested in making ten grand in less than an hour.”

  Coal snorted. “Shit. Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, man. Told him thanks, but no thanks. Don’t think he liked my answer, though.”

  “He’s a recruiter,” Grant said from the back seat.

  “For what?”

  “They have fights in the basement. He recruits new contenders,” he explained.

  “Underground fights?” I asked.

  Grant nodded. “Yeah. They have one every other weekend, I think. I’ve never been to one, but I’ve heard they’re brutal.”

  I glanced over at Coal before I focused on the road. “How long have they been doing this?”

  Grant shrugged. “I don’t know. The first time I heard about it was a few months ago
.”

  After that, Coal changed the subject until we dropped Grant off at his place. He lived in the same complex as us, but his apartment was at the front of the complex while our building was near the back.

  “You think we should tell Copper about the fights at the gym?”

  “Yeah, I do. I doubt he knows about them, and I’m pretty sure he won’t be happy knowing they’re trying to recruit his members,” I said. “But I think it can wait until the next time we’re at the clubhouse.”

  “You think we should find another place to work out?”

  I shook my head. “No. I like working out there, and I’m not going to let some slimy motherfucker keep me from doing what I like,” I stated.

  The following Friday, we were at the clubhouse for the monthly meeting with all the members. When Copper asked if there was anything that needed to be discussed, I stood from my seat and cleared my throat. “A guy from the gym where Coal and I work out tried to recruit us for the underground fights held there.”

  Copper’s jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists. “And what did you say?”

  I shrugged. “I told him thanks, but no thanks. He didn’t seem happy with my answer.”

  “Is it that new place off Jefferson Street?” he asked. “I think it’s called Pumpers.”

  I chuckled. “I didn’t know it was new, but yeah, it’s Pumpers off Jefferson.”

  “It’s not exactly new. It wasn’t turning a profit, so the previous owners shut it down. Somebody bought it and reopened it a few months ago,” he explained.

  “Yeah, Grant said he heard about the fights a few months ago.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “He said they held them every other weekend, and he’d heard they were brutal.”

  Copper nodded. “You boys find someplace else to work out for now. I’m going to go by there and have a chat with the new owner, but I don’t want you getting wrapped up in whatever the hell is going on over there.”

  “Will do, Prez.”

  Copper continued to talk for another twenty minutes before dismissing us. I usually hung around the clubhouse after meetings to have a few drinks or shoot the shit, but I wasn’t in the mood to be social.