by Nicola Jane
He stares at me for a long while, until everyone begins shifting uncomfortably in their seat. “Continue,” he mutters.
“Maybe a slogan, one that appreciates the hard work single parents put in.”
“Get a slogan to me in the next hour,” he says.
“Me?” I ask, and he nods impatiently, waving his hand at me like he’s shooing away a stray dog. I gather the file and head back to my office space.
LAKE
Charlotte waits patiently for me to order our coffees and join her at the table she just snagged at the back of the café. “What do you remember about Mum?” she asks, stirring sugar into her coffee.
“Nothing,” I mumble.
“Not one thing?” she asks doubtfully.
“She was young. I sometimes used to dream of a girl in a school uniform. Maybe it was her,” I say, shrugging. Charlotte looks disappointed. “Do you remember anything?”
“Yes,” she says. “I remember her boyfriend coming into my room at night.”
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“I was six. Some of it I remember, like his face and his smell, but some things I read once I was old enough to get my records.”
“Shit, Lottie, I didn’t know.”
“Why would you? You avoid talking to me about it. Anyway, I was fine . . . I am fine. I got taken into care a year after that. I told a teacher at school and never went home after. She didn’t fight for me, for either of us. It says on the social worker’s report ‘Mother does not want further contact’. She effectively chose men over us.” She laughs, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Do you think there’re more like us? More siblings?” I ask.
She shrugs, sipping her drink. “Where did you grow up?”
“A children’s home.”
Her eyes widen. “Not foster care?”
I shake my head. They’d tried to place me with families, but I was a messed-up kid. I would lash out and misbehave until they sent me back to the care home. By age ten, they didn’t bother placing me again. “It did me good. I toughened up.”
“Was it a good childhood?”
A hazy picture comes into my mind, and I shut it down quickly. “Yeah, it was okay,” I lie. “You?”
“I had two foster mums,” she says. “Lesbians. I got bullied at school for it, but they were great mums. Natty got cancer and things got tough. I had to go back into care when I was fifteen and I hated it. That’s when I ran away and ended up drifting around MCs,” she says. I shudder when I think of my sister with Cobras MC. I’m glad Blade got her outta there.
“And this kid who contacted me?” she asks.
“Shit, Lottie, I don’t know who he is. I was a dog back then, still am. His mum could be anybody, and she might have got it wrong. I don’t remember any girls coming forward and telling me they were pregnant.”
“You were thirteen, Lake.” She places her hand on mine sympathetically. “Still a kid yourself.” The image tries to infiltrate my mind again, and I stand abruptly, causing Lottie to jump.
“I have to go,” I say, but she reaches out and pulls me back down. “Please.”
“You can’t. He’s here,” she says, looking past me.
I plead with my eyes. “No,” I mumble. “Please don’t say you invited him here,” I hiss.
She nods. “I had to,” she whispers. She stands and smiles. I stay seated, glaring at her. “Connor,” she says. “Thanks for coming.”
“Hey,” he responds.
She embraces him, then nudges me. “Lake,” she hisses.
“It’s okay,” says Connor. “We’re all a bit shocked.” He takes a seat opposite me, and Lottie sits beside him. Eventually, I raise my eyes to meet his. He’s got the same stormy grey as me. “I have a lot of questions,” he states.
“I’m sure you do, kid. Couldn’t you ask your mum?” I ask.
“No,” he says firmly. “She’s dead.”
Chapter Eight
Sara
“Tell us about your new job,” says Frankie excitedly. I love how she cares for everyone, even non-members of the club. She places two large trays of lasagne in the centre of the table.
“It’s hard work,” I say.
“You work in an office,” says Chains sceptically.
“My new boss is an arse,” I add defensively. “He hates me.”
“I find that hard to believe, it’s only been a day,” says Esther, Eva’s mum.
“He’s being tough on me cos of who my dad is. I don’t blame him, I just wish he’d be less of an arse about it.”
“You want me to kill him?” asks Cree, and I snigger, shaking my head.
Lake joins us and the table falls silent. “What?” he snaps, looking around at everyone. He takes the empty seat next to me and scoops some lasagne onto my plate before filling his own. Leia smiles at the gesture and hand feeds a chip to her dog.
“Leia, don’t feed the animal from your plate,” snaps Frankie.
“Why not? You feed a whole bunch of ‘em,” she retorts, wafting her hand in the direction of the bikers at the table.
It’s nice, listening to this. After years of awkward family dinners at my parents’ house, this is perfect. “How did today go?” asks Lake, leaning into me.
“She hates her new boss,” says Leia.
“I’m sure it helps that he’s drop-dead gorgeous,” announces Tillie, and I scowl at her for outing me. “He’s got it all going on,” she adds, wiggling her brows.
Blade scowls. “You fancy Sara’s boss?”
“You fancy your boss?” Lake asks in a low voice.
I ignore him. I have two more nights until I move into my new place and I intend to avoid Lake until then. He sighs. “How was the scan?” he tries. I continue to eat, smiling at the conversation between Leia and Frankie about the dog being in the room while we eat. “You’re making me impatient,” says Lake. “How about I tie you up and pull the answers out of you that way?”
Tillie notices the tension as Lake hisses words in my ear. “Sara, have you shown Frankie the scan?” she asks brightly. This gets Lake’s attention. “I have a copy,” adds Tillie, sliding a picture over to Frankie, who takes it and admires it.
“You went private?” she asks, and I nod. “Was it too soon to tell the sex?”
Tillie smiles at me excitedly, and I nod, indicating she can tell them. “It’s a boy,” she blurts, and Frankie smiles.
“A boy to grow up with Alfie,” says Gia, happily.
The sad feeling in my chest returns. My baby isn’t a club baby. Once I leave, I’ll never step back in here. I won’t see Frankie or most of the others again, and my child won’t grow up with Alfie. “A boy?” repeats Lake, bringing me out of my pity party for one. I almost forgot he was here. I nod. “I’m gonna have a son?”
I shake my head, realising that everyone around me is smiling and passing the picture around, yet I’ve made a huge decision. “No. I’ll give birth to a boy, but neither of us will be in his life,” I say, and he gives me a puzzled look. “My parents were right—I can’t do this. I’m looking into adoption.”
LAKE
My world tilts when those words hit my ears. Anger builds from somewhere deep within, and I stand, pushing my chair back. “Get up,” I hiss, and the rest of the table stops talking and looks at me. “Get up, Sara.” She does as I ask, and she must sense I’m in no mood for her back chat because she follows me out the kitchen and into the carpark out front. “Say that again!”
“I’ve looked into it and I could really make someone happy. There’s so many couples who are desperate for a child. I can give them one.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“It’s for the best. I’m gonna make a go of my career and I never wanted kids so—”
“I said no!” I repeat. “My kid is not going into care!”
“Who said anything about care?” she asks. “Adoption is not the same thing.”
“It could end up in care. That happens.”
I take a few breaths. “I didn’t think I did,” I respond, staring hard at the ground. There are so many feelings ripping through me, I’m not sure what I want, but my gut is telling me not to let this child go. “But you can’t give it away. It’s a child, not a puppy.”
“I’m really sorry you think this is your decision, but I’ve made my mind up. I can’t do this.” She heads back inside, and I chase after her. “Lake,” she hisses when I grab hold of her hand. “Let me go.”
I shake my head and tug her back to me. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll step up. I’ll get my shit together and be a dad. Just promise me you won’t make any rash decisions just yet. Let’s figure it out together.”
She stares at me in the eyes for a few seconds, then nods. Relief floods me and I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding.
I check my watch. It’s almost eight, so I grab my jacket. “Are you meeting Connor?” asks Lottie, and I nod. Sara glances up from the couch where she’s painting Lottie’s nails, but she doesn’t comment. “I’m so pleased you’re giving him a chance,” she adds.
“I didn’t really have a choice, did I?” I respond coldly, still feeling pissed she set me up like she did.
“You’ll thank me one day.”
I roll my eyes as I head out. Sure, I will.
Half an hour later, I’m in the Windsor, sitting opposite Connor. It feels awkward without Lottie filling the silence. I take another drink from my beer, and he stares down at his bottle of water. “So,” I begin, and he raises his eyes, “where’d yah grow up?”
“Nottingham,” he mutters. “Mum moved there when I was a baby.”
“And you said she’d died?” I ask, and he nods again. “When?”
“Six months ago. It’s how I found out about you. I was going through some of her stuff, and there was a picture of you.”
“With the label ‘Connor’s dad’?” I ask sarcastically, then immediately feel bad.
He shakes his head and his eyes fill with pity. It gets my back up, so I march to the bar and slam my glass down for a refill. When I return, he’s laid two photographs on the table. One is of her and the other of me as a kid. I place my finger on the one of me and drag it across the table. “So from this, you got I’m your dad?”
“Some things came to light about her,” he mutters, his gaze shifting uncomfortably. I know the words he wants to say, but I don’t wanna hear them. “She didn’t die naturally. She’d been arrested and killed herself in police custody. They didn’t even get an interview out of her.”
I allow myself a quick look at her picture and I shudder. She’s just like I remember. “We need a paternity test,” I declare.
“Of course.”
“Where’d yah live now?”
“Around,” he says.
“Look, kid, I don’t want half answers. Are you staying here in London or going back to Nottingham? I wanna know where I stand and what the fuck you expect to happen from here on,” I snap.
“I’m sleeping on couches, whoever can put me up. I left Nottingham for good. She’s gone and people were talking. I can’t deal with that.” He sighs heavily and scrubs at his face. I notice dirt on his fingers and frown.
“So, whose couch are you sleeping on tonight?” I ask. He avoids my stare again, and I groan. “You’re sleeping rough, aren’t you?”
Lottie looks up in surprise. She and Sara are still on the couch, watching a movie on the large screen. “Connor,” she says, getting up to greet him.
“Go find him a room,” I mutter, and her eyes widen.
“You’re staying?” she beams.
“Tiny!” I yell, and the club’s prospect rushes over. “Get the kid some clothes, jeans, whatever you can find. Frankie’s got some shit put away in cupboards, she’ll have something.” He nods and rushes off.
Lottie leads Connor away, and I stare after them, still wondering how the hell I went from having no blood relatives to now having Lottie and Connor. “Who’s he?” asks Sara. I don’t bother to answer, opting to go and find the Pres.
“I guess we need a new prospect. I don’t think it’ll be long before Tiny is patched in. He know much about bikes or the MC life?” asks Riggs after I fill him in about Connor.
I shake my head. “I doubt it.”
“Get him shadowing Tiny for the foreseeable. No offence, but get a background check done ASAP.”
I nod. “None taken. I don’t know this kid either.”
Maisy is waiting for me outside the office. She pouts and runs a pointed finger over my kutte. “I miss you,” she whispers.
My hand goes straight for her neck, and she grins, tilting her head back and sucking in an excited breath. “I need to unwind,” I hiss in her ear, and her mouth runs kisses along my jaw bone until her lips find mine. “Are you ready for me?”
She nods eagerly, and I smile. “Your room or mine?” she asks.
“Mine. I’ll be there in five.” She nods and rushes off up the stairs.
Chapter Nine
Sara
It’s like torture, lying here listening to cries of ecstasy coming from the room next door. When I hear Lake’s growl, I throw the sheets back angrily and go down to the kitchen to make myself a warm drink. I can’t take any more of their sex noises.
I make a hot chocolate and pull myself up onto the counter, crossing my legs and staring out the kitchen window. It’s four in the morning, everything is still and quiet, and something about this time brings me peace.
The door opens, and Lake stumbles in with a stupid grin on his face. I roll my eyes and go back to staring out of the window. “Fuck, Sara, you scared me,” he says. “Why are you awake at this hour?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I mutter.
“Shit, is that my fault?” he asks, wincing.
“Don’t worry about it.”
I watch him pull out a wooden tray and begin rummaging through the fridge. He fills the tray with strawberries and other fruit. When he spots me staring, he stops and braces his hands on the worktop. “We should get together later, talk shit over.”
“I’m at work all day. Maybe some other time,” I say.
“I was serious when I said I’d step up,” he adds.
I arch a doubtful eyebrow. “You’re really proving that to me,” I say dryly.
“Hey, a man’s still gotta . . .” he says, smirking. It’s not a joke to me, not when I’ve grown feelings for this inconsiderate arsehole. “Besides, you’re not usually here. If you were in your own place, you wouldn’t know anything about this.” My eyes widen, and his smirk fades. “That sounded so much worse than I meant it to,” he says. “Me and you clearly aren’t gonna happen, too many failed attempts and all,” he adds, “but I’ll step up to be a dad.”
I push myself from the worktop and place my mug in the dishwasher. “Lake, nothing about your life will change. You’re asking me to keep your child. It’s a responsibility that’ll change my entire life. But yours will carry on just as it is, and you’re right, I’ll know nothing of it. But that doesn’t make it okay.”
“I know what it’s like,” he mutters, and I stop to hear him out. “Growing up without parents. I know what that’s like. I don’t want any kid to go through that, especially one that we created. When I thought you were raising him, that was fine, but now I know you’re considering giving him to strangers, well, that kills me.”
“He’ll have parents. Maybe not blood ones, but he’ll be cared for and loved just as much as any other child.”
“You don’t know that,” he argues.
“I can’t do this right now. Get back to Maisy, enjoy the strawberries.”
Instead of going back to my room, I turn on the large television and curl up on the couch. As Lake is passing, he stops. “Go to bed, Sara. I’ll make sure we don’t disturb
you.”
I shake my head. Just knowing he’s with her, tending to her every whim, makes my heart hurt.
I wake with a stiff neck, stretching out as I slowly sit up. Tiny is on the other couch, grinning. “Morning. You missed breakfast, but Lake saved you some,” he says.
I frown in confusion. “Breakfast? What time is it?”
Tiny glances at his watch. “Eight.” My eyes widen. I’m late for work! I dive from the couch and run for the stairs, taking two at a time. I almost crash into Lake, who’s leaving his room, looking relaxed. “Everything okay?” he asks.
I rip my shirt over my head, not caring that Lake’s watching me from the doorway. “I’m late for work,” I say. I pull out some fresh underwear, hating that I don’t have time to shower, and shimmy into my panties. Lake’s eyes are fixed on my half-naked body.
“Why are you rushing? You hate the boss anyway.”
“Exactly. He’ll make my life hell for this,” I say, fastening my bra.
Lake goes into my suitcase, which I haven’t unpacked because I’m only here for one more night. I squirt some foundation into my hand and rub it carelessly into my skin. Lake holds up a fitted dress, I nod, and he holds it lower so I can step into it. I brush some mascara onto my lashes and squeeze my feet into my heels. “I’ll drive you,” says Lake. The bike would be quicker than my car, and it’s down to him I slept in, so I nod, grabbing my bag and rushing out the door with Lake hot on my heels.
I duck into the office unnoticed, chucking my bag under my desk and turning on my computer. Hayley pops her head around the divider between our desks. “I told Alaric you had a meeting with your father,” she whispers.
I smile gratefully. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe I slept in on my second day.”