by Voss, Deja
Their Rottweiler, Rosie, nudges my hand until I pet her big head as she slobbers all over my foot. She probably weighs more than I do, but she’s the most docile dog I’ve ever met. Once she’s satisfied, she pitter-patters across the hardwood floor to her bed and flops to the ground.
Esther walks out of the kitchen with a sewing kit in one hand and what looks like a suitcase in the other. She unfolds it on the table, and it’s a little sewing machine.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” I ask. Esther seems like the last person I’d expect to sew as a hobby.
“Aunt Mary’s house was really boring. I spent that summer ripping up all her muumuus and turning them into really tacky miniskirts. It’s a good skill to have. Especially when you work with strippers and escorts. You never know when somebody is gonna need a rhinestone replaced on their G-string.”
“Sparkles!” Evie shouts, spotting the tackle box full of sequins and stones.
“Let me see that thing,” she says, and I hand her the dress. “If I cut this here and here, and we bring the waist up to here…” She demonstrates what she’s going to do to make the dress wearable, and I think I actually might like it better than what it looks like as is.
“That’s fine by me, Esther,” Sloan says. “Plus there’s the sash for the waist.”
“Why don’t you just put a big arrow on it that says dumbass while you’re at it.”
“You’re not a dumbass,” Esther assures me. “You’re a Misfit, and this is pretty much how we do things around here.”
“I’ve been really bothered about something,” I tell her. “That night you were mad when I stopped over. You said there was a mole?”
“It was looking that way.”
“Do you think it was me? Like something I could’ve said in front of someone at the bar that might’ve gotten into the wrong hands? Do you think that’s why Buzzy was hanging around?”
“I think it goes deeper than that. You don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I even said something in front of you.”
“What about Stacy?” I know she’s just a bartender at the Bucktail, hell, she doesn’t really even hang out outside of work, but the way she reacted the night of the incident is kind of bugging me. How did she know I was going to be ok?
“I don’t know enough about her to say. I trust my brother’s judgment in who he hires. I do know that girl could probably turn any of the men into a mole if they thought they had a chance to hit it,” she laughs.
“I think it might be time for Evie to go to bed,” Sloan says, raising her eyebrows.
“Oh, she doesn’t know what that means,” I say.
“More sparkles!” she yells, pointing to the box.
I hug my ‘niece’ and Sloan carries her up to the bedroom. I find myself feeling kind of excited that I’m going to get to do that soon with my own kid. I’m going to have my own little person, and hopefully they will be as in love with sparkles as Evie is, because I will Bedazzle every surface of the house if that’s the case.
Esther wraps the measuring tape around my waist and I groan.
“I’m turning into a total fat ass,” I whine.
“You are not. You’re fine. You’re allowed anyway. You should enjoy this time.”
“When are you guys going to have kids?” I ask. Her and Brooks have been married for over a year now, and I know that starting a family of their own is something that they both wanted, but it’s seemed to have fallen off to the side.
“We’re working on it. It’s probably just not in the cards for us right now. Between the stress of the club and opening the ranch it just doesn’t seem to be working, no matter how hard we try. But hey, trying is the fun part, right?”
I can hear the sadness in her voice, and in this moment, I feel guilty that it happened so easily for me. That I wasn’t even trying. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if I had actually been wanting to get pregnant and it didn’t work.
“Maybe my fertility is contagious,” I suggest. “You want me to cough in your mouth?”
She’s laughing, even though it’s really not that funny.
“Get over here,” she says, holding up the cut up skirt. “I want you to see if this fits.”
There’s a knock on the front door, and Sloan checks her waistband for her pistol. The men are out on a run tonight, and since we are down an enforcer for the time being, our usual babysitters aren’t here to keep an eye on us.
She peeks through the peephole and puts her head in her hand.
“Who is it?” Esther asks.
Sloan opens the door and steps out on the porch. We both just look at each other, knowing that something is up.
“She really didn’t think we were just going to sit here while she keeps us in the dark, right?” Esther asks.
We get up and go to the window, pulling the curtains aside. My heart nearly falls out of my mouth when I see who she’s talking to. I push Esther aside and throw open the front door.
“They’re not here,” she says to him firmly. “Do you want to use my phone?”
She holds out her cell phone, but he just stands there with his arms crossed. When he looks over at me, I don’t know if I want to cry, throw a punch, hug him, or just slam the door and lock it behind me.
“Olive,” he says, his expression turning to sadness.
“What are you doing here?” I mumble, not sure what else there is to say. He’s supposed to be in hiding. He’s supposed to be anywhere but here. He looks attractive as ever, a little skinnier than I’m used to, and I can tell by the lines on his face he’s not sleeping well, but underneath that, he’s still the strapping bad boy biker who took up space in my head and in my bed a few short months ago.
“I didn’t want to miss the wedding,” he says.
“Well isn’t that so kind of you,” Sloan says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“I had to see you, Olive,” he says. “My life is shit right now. I can’t do this anymore.”
Part of me feels an overwhelming pity for him. His whole world changed in a matter of seconds that night. But my whole world has changed over the course of these months, and as much as I feel love for this man, as much as I want the best for him, I realize that I’m not in love with him. It damn near guts me, knowing that the kindest thing I can do for him is to cut him loose.
“Have you talked to Tank yet?” I ask him.
“No. I don’t have my phone. I had to take a cab to the bottom of the mountain and I hiked the rest of the way here. I figured the guys would be at the clubhouse.”
“Let’s go back to the house,” I say.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Sloan stammers.
“I know you’re trying to be a good friend, Sloan. I love you for that. This doesn’t involve you, though.”
Esther steps out on the porch and wraps him in a hug. I know she has a special relationship with these men; she grew up with them, and Red and Tank used to take her on the missions she had to do back when her father was president.
“Are you alright, brother?” she asks. “Do you have everything you need?”
“I’m good.”
“You look like shit. If you need a place to stay this weekend you know our door is always open. I’m sure Brooks really wants to see you.”
“He can stay at his own house this weekend,” I say. “It’s still his place as much as it is ours.”
“That’s fine too,” Esther says. “I have all the measurements I need. I’ll drop this dress off tomorrow.”
“I don’t understand you people at all,” Sloan clucks, shaking her head.
“Too bad, future sister-in-law,” Esther laughs. “You’re one of us now.”
“Come on, Red,” I say. “Let’s go home.”
We jump in my Jeep to sit in silence. There’s so much I want to tell him, so much I should tell him, but I simply can’t bring myself to do it. I feel like telling my life story to a stranger would be easier.
He grabs my hand on the steering whe
el, and I jerk away. Not just because I am a more cautious driver now ever since I found out about the baby, but because I don’t want to give him the impression that we’re just going to pick up business as usual.
“Ollie, I know you’re mad,” he says. “You’re allowed to be.”
“I’m not mad, Red. I was mad a month ago. I was mad when you pushed me away at one of my most conflicted times in my life. I have no reason to be mad at you.”
“You have every reason to. I bailed on you. I know I can’t just show back up again and everything is back to normal.”
We pull into the driveway of the house and go inside.
“The guys are out on a run,” I tell him. “I’ll call Tank, though. I’m sure he’ll get the message eventually. I know he misses you.”
“You don’t have to,” he says, eyeing me up and down. I know I’m drowning in a big pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, but he’s gotta notice that I’ve put on some weight. “We can just hang out.”
“I would feel better if I called him.” I shrug. “Why don’t you just help yourself to whatever you want, go take a shower, get comfortable? I’ll make sure you have clean sheets on your bed as soon as I get off the phone.”
“You’re acting strange, baby.” He cups my face in his hands and stares into my eyes, and I feel a single tear run down my face. I think it’s the reality of not wanting to have to tell him how I really feel. “What’s going on?”
I don’t know how to explain to him that nothing is wrong. In fact, everything is right. Especially the way that I’m feeling right now. The choice that he made for me by running away, it was the right choice. The fact that I don’t feel that spark, that overwhelming electric desire to smother him in kisses and take him to bed to make up for lost time, it’s right. For once, I’m doing right by myself, and it’s bittersweet.
“I guess there’s some things we need to talk about. How are you though? How’s your training going?”
“It’s shit, Olive. Everything is shit. I hate not being here. I miss the club. I miss this house. I miss my life.”
“It’s going to be alright,” I assure him. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“I know, but every morning when I wake up, I lay in bed and fight this internal battle. I know that my fighting career is important, but why? Why can’t I just be regular Red? Why can’t I just have my old life back? It’s not like it was a bad life.”
“You do it because you were made for greatness, Red. I’m sure every athlete struggles with that. Maybe sometimes you have to let other people want something for you more than you want it for yourself. That’s what we’re here for. Me, your brothers, everyone. We want this for you. Someday when you retire, you can come back here to us and live a nice quiet boring life. We’ll still be here to welcome you with open arms. We’re not going anywhere.”
“You’re already gone, Olive. I can tell.”
“You pushed me away. I was pissed, but now I’m thankful. There’s something else you need to know, though. Tank and I are going to have a baby.”
He looks perplexed, trying to put together the details, the timeframe.
“Oh come on, you had to have noticed I’ve been packing on the pounds. You think I’ve just been sitting around stress eating because of you?”
The way he shrugs and his faraway smile makes me feel like that didn’t soften the blow.
“Are you sure it’s his?”
I nod. “I took a test. I hope you know if this child was yours, I would’ve found a way to tell you immediately. Even if things weren’t going to work out between us, I would never hold that from you.”
“I’m happy for you. I’m happy for both of you.” He pulls me into his arms, wrapping me in a bear hug. I know he’s being genuine. You can be happy for someone and sad for yourself at the same time.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say. “Really. It’s been weird without you.”
“Well, you better go call your old man and tell him I’m in town,” he says, letting me go, looking me up and down. “Pregnant does look good on you, Olive. I’m gonna go hop in the shower. It’s been a long day.”
Just like that, he’s off and running, taking his suitcase back to his room, closing the door behind him. I feel like I should say something, but I think everything that needed to be said has already been said.
I pull out my cell phone and call Tank. I know that he probably won’t have service, and even if he does, if he’s riding, I don’t like him trying to answer the phone. It’s ok. It’ll probably be easier to just leave a message.
“Hey,” I say when I get Tank’s voicemail. “I just wanted to let you know Red’s here. I know what you might be thinking, but I promise it’s not like that. I love him, Tank, but not like I love you. I want out of the pact. If that means I have to go for the sake of your friendship, I understand. I love you. I’ll be in our bed. Alone. If you want to talk to him, call the house phone. Otherwise, I’ll see you when you get here.”
“Do you have everything you need?” I ask Red. He’s laying on the couch, watching TV, a beer sitting on the coffee table, like it’s just another normal night. My crazy Red, he knows he’ll always be home here, even if everything has changed.
I pull the blanket off the back of the couch and cover him with it. I run my fingers through his beard and kiss him on the forehead.
“Everything I did, Olive,” he says. “It was because I wanted you to be happy. I wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”
“I am, and I am. You did good,” I assure him.
“I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure that baby never wants for anything his entire life.”
“I appreciate that. I mean, it might not be yours, but you did contribute if you know what I’m saying,” I giggle, winking at him. “You know I love you, Red. You’ll always have a piece of my heart.”
“Don’t say that,” he says, tenderly. “That’s not fair to my best friend. He deserves it more than I do. He earned it.”
“Love isn’t a transactional thing, Red. It can’t be earned or bought and sold. Plus, it’s infinite. The way I love you takes nothing away from anyone else. And I do love you. But we called it from day one. If the two of us became a couple, we’d end up dead or in jail by the end of the week.”
“I really didn’t think you’d be the one that went to jail though,” he laughs. I have to laugh, too. “Thank you, Olive.”
I squeeze his hand one last time. We can finish this conversation later. I’d feel so much better if Tank were here to be having it with us.
“Goodnight,” I say. I grab a water bottle from the fridge, brush my teeth in the bathroom, and by the time I walk back to the bedroom, he’s already snoring away on the couch. I fold back the blankets and slide under the covers, completely satisfied with the turn of events that tonight brought. I feel like a piece of the puzzle is snapped back in right where it belongs, even if it wasn’t where I thought it went in the first place.
35
Red:
I can’t really put a word on the way I feel right now. Selfless is too big. Selfless is too… selfish. It hurts, it sucks, but I knew, in the end, this was how things were going to be. I knew I’d never be able to commit to her fully. I knew that even someone as amazing as Olive couldn’t shape me into the perfect man.
Or even a tolerable man.
Still, knowing the people I love are safe and happy almost gives me a sense of purpose in this world that’s always been cruel to me. Almost.
I don’t know why I’m planning on sleeping on the couch. Maybe it’s because my old bedroom feels so lonely. Too close to home in my own damn home. Laying out here in the open, out here in the space that the three of us shared together during some of the happiest times of my life, I feel like I’m actually home. I’m entitled to at least wallow in some nostalgia for the time being. Maybe I’ll stay somewhere else for the rest of the weekend. Maybe I will take Esther up on her offer. I need to see Tank first though. I owe him an apolo
gy for all the shit I’ve put him through.
I don’t know when he’s going to get home, but I’m fighting sleep, flipping through the channels in the dark, nursing this beer, and trying to think of the right thing to say to him, even though I’ve rehearsed this a million times in my mind over the last month.
That was before I knew about the baby, though. This child, this child that could’ve been mine, hell, should’ve been mine, changes everything. Nothing is going to be the same ever again.
Tank’s bedroom door squeaks open, and I feel a draft run through the house. She probably cracked the window open. I don’t know what it’s like to be pregnant, but maybe she’s having hot flashes. The doors in this old house don’t latch too well. I should get up and close it, but I feel better knowing that there’s not a door between the two of us. Like we’re sleeping together one more time, even if we’re in two different rooms.
“Red!” I hear her scream, a piercing tone that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up, then silence. I jump up from the couch and sprint to the bedroom. The room is pitch-black and ice-cold, and the only sound I can hear is her gasping for air.
In a sheer state of panic, I flip on the light switch, and my jaw drops as my eyes adjust to what I’m seeing in front of me. My pistol is on the coffee table. There’s no time for that.
The masked man is standing over her body, his gloved hands wrapped around her throat as she thrashes. As soon as the lights turn on, his gaze turns to me.
“I thought you were alone,” he says to her, letting go of her neck. He reaches for his pistol in his waistband, and I realize there’s only one thing I can do. I don’t know who this asshole is, but he climbed in the wrong window.
“Red,” she wails as the sound of a gunshot rings through the room. I am blinded by my rage, no real idea of what’s going on, nothing on my mind but killing this fucker, even if I have to do it with my bare hands. He finally drops the gun off to the side, and I toss it to Ollie, but she’s just staring at me from the bed, her eyes full of tears and her face pale as the sheets she’s laying on. I’m sure she’s just in shock; the handprints around her throat look terrible, and I’m really whaling away at this guy right before her eyes.