Page 44 of Single Mom's Biker Brigade
He answered on the first ring with a gruff, “Hello?” that weakened my knees.
I hated that. Hated that one word from him could do that to me when I stood in a parking lot full of men who’d love nothing more than to make me feel small. I swallowed it down and kept my voice flat. The last thing I needed was for him to hear my fear. “Someone slashed my tire at Grady’s. I need a pickup.”
“Be there in ten. Stay put.”
Like I could go anywhere else. I propped myself up against my bike and crossed my arms.
True to his word, Hawk pulled in ten minutes later.
He climbed out of the truck and rolled my bike into the back without so much as a word until the doors closed and we hit the asphalt.
The silence sat between us with the weight of a third passenger leaning in.
Hawk drove in that deliberate way he did everything. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Just like nothing happened the day I found the note under my wiper or that fucking symbol carved into my back door. This is three fucking times I’ve been threatened, Hawk. Three times and no one is doing a single damned thing about it.”
“I can’t do anything.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “Not like I can make any accusations when I have no proof.”
“Someone slashed my fucking tire, and I’m sick to death of every fucking one of you blowing it off like it’s nothing. Do you know that last time I tried to talk to the club about the symbol they told me to calm down.Calm down.Like this is all make believe or I’m reading too much into it.” I was not hysterical. Every single word that came out was one I’d planned and calculated. “I’ve been telling you all for a month that something is coming. No one wants to believe me.” I scoffed when Hawk glanced my way. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my mouth shut. I’ll let you all keep pretending that nothing is wrong. And when the shit hits the fan, I don’t want to hear one single fuckingwordabout it. Because I warned you.”
There were times when I hated them. I hated being told it was nothing.
Hated being told to calm down like the threats were harmless. They were not pranks.
They were not harmless.
I’d heard that bullshit my entire life from my mother when she brought home shitty boyfriends.
Hawk wheeled into the parking lot in front of the clubhouse and killed the engine. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Right. Sure.” I shrugged and hopped out, taking extreme care not to slam the door behind me. That would show too much emotion and prove myhysteria.Damn it all to hell and fuck the devil while they were there but I’d had enough of this bullshit. I rolled my bike off the trailer and took it straight into the garage, locking all the doors behind me.
If someone wanted inside, they’d have to break down a door, because I needed space and a break from their excuses.
No one bothered me, and even though I realized it might’ve been irrational, even more anger poured through me when I left out five hours later on my brand new tire without a single check in from Colt, Diesel, or Hawk. Not one word or even a knock on the door.
My teeth locked as I drove. I took a turn too fast, and nausea rose. It did the same thing again on the next turn, forcing me to the side of the road until it passed.
I’d felt off this morning too, but I attributed that to my upcoming period being late.
My hands went clammy and my spine snapped straight when I finished heaving into the bushes. I dug my phone from my pocket and checked the date to confirm, halfway praying the calendar app would lie to me. Not only was I late, but I’d missed last month too.
No. It couldn’t be that. I always took a morning after pill even though I was on birth control. I’d seen what it was like to have a child unexpectedly. I hadn’t wanted to put myself or a baby through that. So how…
Colt.
Damn me. I’d been so shaken after seeing Colt injured that I’d stayed at the clubhouse after Hawk sent him away. By the time I remembered my extra step of protection, it was too late. I’d assumed it wouldn’t matter. Just this once I’d let my regular birth control take the heat.
I kicked my ass into gear and shot off toward the nearest store, snagging the pregnancy test off the shelf and paying for it at the self-checkout register. No one glanced my way or paid any attention at all. Good. I’d gotten good at being alone. Maybe too good.
I finished out the drive on auto-pilot, my mind lost to the what ifs and possibilities. By the time my tiny, one room apartment came into view, I’d almost convinced myself it was all a great big cosmic joke. I’d skipped periods before. Thank you very much. Being late and nauseous were almost as normal as my daily craving for coffee and chocolate. Nothing more than dealing with the daily stress of hormones.
I almost didn’t even take the test but I wouldn’t be able to rest until I did. After locking up my bike and stumbling into the apartment, I followed the instructions to the letter, then sat on the toilet to wait.
The minutes crawled past one by one, each tick of every second on the timer app pounding through me. I stood twice, once to splash water on my face, once just to move. Sitting still with that test on the back of the toilet brought a new rush of fear I barely kept down. My heart beat fast enough it hummed and I kept drying my sweaty hands on my jeans. Nothing helped. Nothing would help until that test came up negative.
My phone beeped, and I lunged for the test. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to look as it worked, and it took a second for my eyes to focus on the two lines slashing across the viewing screen. I double checked the instructions as a pit opened up in my stomach. “No.” I whispered the word into the void of space, unable to imagine what kind of horrible mother I’d be. I had no reference for what a good mother did, but I knew I could not be anything like my own.
