Making Choices (Black Shamrocks MC Book 2) (21 page)

He’s got my attention now, my head pivoting toward him without thought.

I wait for him to continue.

He doesn’t, instead regarding me with measuring eyes.

“What are you saying, Mad Dog? That Lucas has a child already?”

“No, but only because shit went down. It’s not my place to tell you the full story. Fuck—he’ll kill me for telling you this much.” He pushes to his feet, running his hand through his hair as he looks down at me. He continues sizing me up with his shrewd eyes, uncertain if he can trust me with Lucas’s past.

“I love him,” I tell him. I need to confess my feelings before they drown me, and he might be the one person who understands. “But I’m not in love with his lifestyle. And I don’t understand his love for your Club. It’s too dangerous.”

“It is,” he agrees without argument. “But not all the time. You’ve joined us in the middle of shit we didn’t see coming. It won’t always be like this.”

I wish I could believe him, but I don’t.

The entire premise of living outside of society’s rules is in itself inherently dangerous.

It’s basic common sense to appreciate that civilization functions better with rules that everyone follows and understands.

The Black Shamrocks, and clubs like them, have their own rules that I
don’t
understand.

“It’s not just that,” I continue. “I don’t think I want to be a mother. Then on top of all that, my parents are going to disown me. They’ll never accept my relationship with a biker. They’ll never speak to me again. The hospital could make me choose him or my career. Damn it, do none of you realize what I stand to lose if I give in to Lucas?”

I can’t keep my confusion and desperation from my voice.

It’s embarrassing, but Mad Dog shrugs as if what I’ve just confessed is nothing.

“Have you thought about what you’ll gain if you stop fighting him? He loves you—it’s pretty fucking obvious to everyone with eyes. You just said you love him, but I bet you haven’t said it to each other yet.” His eyes run over my face, laughing when he reads my expression. “I’m fucking right. Fuck. You two make me and Lainey look rational.”

I watch him bend at the waist, laughing loudly. I’m glad he finds this so funny.

Personally I find little amusement in the situation.

“Are you going to help me, or laugh at me?” I snap at him.

“I’m capable of doing both.” He chuckles again before falling quiet. His expression sobers as he speaks, his eyes earnest but hard. “Nah, seriously, though. What I tell you now is gonna get my head knocked off my fucking shoulders, so use it wisely. This isn’t common knowledge around the Club.”

Damn. This sounds much more serious than I expected.

Swallowing hard, I remember Maddi’s accusation that I was mainly using Lucas for sex. I press my lips together when the bottom one begins trembling at the sadness flowing through me.

I have a lot to make up to him.

“Timber’s had one girlfriend in his life.”

My eyebrows fly toward my hairline at his statement.

“It’s true, JJ. Don’t get me wrong—he’s fucked plenty of women, but he’s only had one relationship.” He drags in a deep breath, letting it leave his mouth slowly. “Amy was one of the many girls who hung around the club back when we were in our early twenties. She was hot, but stuck up. Wouldn’t give any of us the time of day.
Always acted like she was above all of us
.” 

I ignore his pointed look when he emphasizes his last sentence. It’s been mortifying to learn what they all think of me over the last twenty-four hours, but there’s nothing I can do to change their perception now.

“I think she enjoyed a walk on the wild side. Typical upper-class rebellion. She was there for nearly every party with her friends. We were still Prospects back then, and she was unattainable, hot pussy, even though her friends were easy as fuck. Now, I couldn’t be fucked chasing skirt when I had so much thrown at me, so she didn’t interest me. But Timber, he’s different. Pickier. You know what he’s like. He’s a thinker.”

I nod in agreement with his evaluation of Lucas.

“He chased her, and eventually she gave in. Only after he’d taken her on dates, met her parents and friends. All that romantic shit.” His lips lift at his mention of romantic shit, and I wonder why he finds that so funny. “She wouldn’t let him tell anyone that he was a biker, but he didn’t care. He thought he was in love. He had their life mapped out. She’d become his Old Lady. They’d get married. Have a heap of kids. Shit like that.”

This insight into Lucas is fascinating, yet saddening.

His strong reaction to my many comments about how stupid I think it is that his Club claims their women as if they’re possessions, and my refusal to introduce him to my family and friends makes sense now.

He wants the things I keep denying him.

“What happened?” I prompt.

My need to know everything is burning through me. Flames of curiosity lick at me, taunting my fragile emotions as the story stirs my jealousy.

“She fell pregnant. I mean, it was a fucking accident, but they were happy about it. Everyone was. Timber was gonna propose after she had the baby. I thought he was fucking mad. Her parents thought he was at university with her. He was living a fucking lie. They didn’t know he was a biker, and she wanted to keep it that way.”

My heart lurches at his words. The vital organ skips an actual beat.

Despair settles over me like a cloak, indecision trying to choke me. My stomach churns, my hands cradling it without thought. Mad Dog looks down at me as I sit in my recliner, holding my belly.

Raising an eyebrow, he smirks. “Looks like there’s hope for you after all.”

I’m desperate for him to continue his story about Lucas, but his smug insinuation that I’m changing my mind about keeping the baby stokes my previously forgotten ire. My mouth drops open as my angry rebuttal makes its way to the tip of my tongue. The commencement of my tirade is halted when loud knocking on my front door erupts.

“JJ. Mad Dog. Open up. NOW!”

I haven’t even pushed myself to my feet before Mad Dog has pulled my front door open, and is ushering in a helmeted Lucas and Maddi. Stepping out of Lucas’s arms, she pulls the helmet from her head, giving me a glimpse of tears streaming down her face as she throws herself into Mad Dog’s waiting arms. The helmet clatters to the floor near my feet as I come to a stop near them.

“What the fuck?” Mad Dog questions Lucas over Maddi’s sobbing head.

I watch as Lucas’s face falls, and his eyes gleam with unshed tears.

“Joel’s overdosed. We need to get to the hospital. She wouldn’t go without you.”

“Joel? Not Benji?” Mad Dog questions him hotly.

I don’t understand his terse question, but Lucas does.

“Definitely Joel. It looks like the little fucker tried to kill himself with pain meds and sleeping pills. Benji found him. He’s alive, for now—”

I gasp when Maddi wails at his words. The heartbroken sound tugs at my heart as it fills my home. I’ve never seen anyone so distraught—not even family members who I’ve given the ultimate bad news to at the hospital have reacted like this. Her pain is palpable, almost dense enough to touch.

Scooping his hysterical woman into his arms, Mad Dog barks orders, “Let’s go. Now! I’ll take her in the car. She’s not fit for your bike. You coming with us, or riding?”

He directs his last question at me, surprise coloring my cheeks at being included in their family drama.

“She’s riding with me,” Lucas cuts in.

I haven’t looked at him since his unexpected arrival, the contrition that took hold of me during Mad Dog’s story making it impossible for me to do so without bursting into tears or apologies.

Mustering all of my courage, I force myself to meet his eyes. I’m pleasantly shocked by the lack of anger and frustration I find in their light blue depths.

“If you want me to,” I answer his stark pronouncement.

Holding out a hand for me, he grants me a small smile when I take it without hesitation. He picks up Maddi’s discarded helmet, grabbing my keys from the hallstand as we follow the other two outside. Mad Dog ignores us as he strides toward Maddi’s car, cradling her to his chest like she’s the most precious object in the world. It’s just as well he used it to bring me home. I don’t even need to examine Maddi to diagnose her with neurogenic shock. Her wailing has stopped, her face blank, her eyes unseeing. There is no way she could handle being on the back of a bike at the moment.

“We’ll meet you at the hospital,” Lucas shouts after them as he tugs me in the direction of his bike. Mad Dog’s only answer is a grunt of acknowledgement as he slams the passenger door shut, jogging quickly around the front of the car, and throwing himself in the driver’s seat.

Wheels squealing, he drives off at high speed. We quickly fasten our helmets and follow after them.

With my arms wrapped around Lucas’s waist, and my body pressed hard against his muscled back, I feel better than I have in days. The abandoned retelling of his sad history floats around my mind as we weave in and out of the late night traffic.

Once I know that Joel is okay, it’s my mission to learn the rest of the story from Lucas himself.

JJ

Present Day

O
ne thing the Shamrocks know how to do is rally around each other during an emergency.

I noticed before when Joel was shot, and again earlier today, but what’s really cemented that observation, is the love and worry saturating the atmosphere of the waiting room as we all wait for the latest news on Joel.

A loving rub of an arm as they pass each other, a small smile when you glance in their direction, a hug when someone is overcome with tears—every gesture is followed by matching words designed to soothe and pull everyone together. A true family is what they are, unlike mine who’d be spending this time pointing fingers, and arguing about who this affects the most.

The revelation saddens me.
I never understood just how much my family was lacking until I spent time around the Shamrocks.

“You holding up okay, Doll?” Lucas nudges me from the seat next to me.

I smile at him as I nod, happy that we’ve found a small piece of tranquility together after the craziness of the previous twenty-four hours. He hasn’t left my side since we arrived over an hour ago, holding my hand, his thumb moving back and forth over my knuckles.

“We should get you something to eat. Gotta keep up your strength for the—”

My smile falls from my face, causing him to trail off.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing.”

“Shit, JJ. What do you want from me?” Lucas pushes to his feet, holding his hand out for me as he does. “Come on. Let’s walk and talk.”

Staring at his hand, I weigh up my options.

Stay here and argue in front of everyone, or go for a walk and run the risk of my father or colleagues seeing us together?

Colleen’s beseeching eyes make the decision for me.

A walk, it is.

We walk, hand in hand, through the hospital in silence.

As is his way, he holds every door open for me.

He lets me through each entryway first.

He lets me in front of him when we pass people.

I know I should be worried about being seen with him, but I can’t bring myself to pull my hand from his.

This has been my problem throughout the last six months.

Common sense says that I should run from Lucas as fast as I can, however every emotion that consumes me wants the exact opposite. My mind calls for our separation—even some distance would be preferable—while my body wants our individual molecules to find a way to meld together so we can create an entirely new being comprised perfectly of our essence.

A perfect melding of our souls, you could say.

My mind performs a backflip at my ridiculous thought.

Shit. I just described pregnancy, almost exactly.

I’ve heard the saying “the penny drops” a million times before. I just never appreciated it’s connotation until now.

What I’m currently experiencing is the saying in action.

A divination of fact.

Truth in motion.

An epiphany.

Vividly, a vision of Lucas and I watching a toddler with strawberry blonde hair as she toddles across a lush lawn chasing a puppy flashes before me. She’s so beautiful and innocent; a perfect blend of the two of us. My heart swells in my chest. I want to reach out and touch her.

I want to keep her.

“Lucas.” Letting go of his hand as we make our way through the automatic doors that lead to the hospital’s garden, I skip backward so I can face him. Excitement at sharing my revelation with him overwhelms me. “I know this is going to sound stupid, but—”

“Juliette Jane Patrice.” My father’s voice interrupts my happy moment. “Explain why you missed our meeting this morning? Where have you been?”

Damn him to hell.

Why does he need to be here now?

Searching Lucas’s face to gauge how he’s going to react, my stomach drops into my shoes when I glimpse animosity all over his face. His eyes are guarded, his lips pressed tightly together, his shoulders ramrod straight.