Fighting to Stay (9 page)

Oh my god.  My stomach twists and beads of sweat form on forehead.  Oh my god.  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.  My mouth fills with water and I swallow, quickly, repeatedly.  Another gut cramp causes me to clench my butt cheeks together, tightly.  Oh fuck.  I don’t whether I want to hurl or shit myself.  I grip the handle of the car door and concentrate on breathing.

From the corner of my eye, I see Roam look over at me.  “You okay, sugar?”

“Yep,” I burst out.

He slows the truck and pulls onto the shoulder.

“NO!” I shout.  “Don’t stop.  Just get home.  Oh god, please just get home.”

“Okay…” He pulls back out onto the road and flattens the accelerator. 

My shoulder slump slightly in relief.  The sooner we are home, the sooner I can relieve myself.  No way in hell do I want to mess myself – or fart – in front of Roam. 
Not happening!

He continues to glance at me occasionally, I guess he’s checking to make sure I’m okay. 

It’s been a month since I moved in with Roam. When he asked me to move in with him, I felt for sure it was a bad idea.  We hadn’t even been together very long and I was positive it would spell disaster for our relationship.  But when he said I was in danger and they thought the attack on Mitch’s bar was because of me, I didn’t hesitate.  I
want
to be safe, after all.  After Roam and I had finished talking, I had logged into my social networking site and brought up a picture of my ex.  Roam felt for sure he was behind the attack and he wanted to know what he looked like so he could keep an eye out around town for him.  He also wanted to show the other club members so they could do the same.  So far, no one had spotted him, as far as I knew.

As for living together, t
hings had been going really well, until I got sick about a week ago.  It was mostly vomiting a bug but I also had a fever and then developed a cough on top of that.  Roam took great of me, with some help from Jenn.  Then, last night I started to feel better.  I got out of bed, made chicken soup for supper and tidied around the house.  Roam came home and we’d made love – we did it again this morning as well.  Today, we had spent the day with Jasper, and I was still feeling good – a little weak, but good all the same.  We’d had some street food for lunch, then dropped Jasper home.  We were on our way back to our home when I started to feel sick again.

“I think you need to go to a doctor, sugar,” Roam says.

“Just get me home,” I grit out.

“I’m goin’ fast as I can.”

Roam pulls into the drive and before he’s even stopped the truck, I jump out and run inside.  Grabbing a bucket on the way, I race into the bathroom…and well, you can imagine.  It’s not good.

~*~

A couple of hours later, I’m still not feeling well, so Jenn offers to drive me to the doctor.  My stomach is cramping so painfully, that I just want to curl into the fetal position and cry. 

Finally, my name is called and I go into the office.

“Hi, Miss Monroe, I’m Doctor Michelle Bray, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi,” I wince and grip my stomach as it twists.  “I’ve just been feeling unwell this week.  First it was vomiting and flu symptoms and now I’ve got diarrhea as well.”

“There is a virus going around that usually lasts a few days.  I can give you a script for the vomiting and diarrhea, but with a virus, I can only recommend cold and flu tablets for your cough and sore throat,” she explains.

“Okay,” I nod.

“First, is there any chance you may be pregnant?”

“No, Ma’am.  I’m on the pill.”

“Right, well, the pill can become ineffective when you’ve been sick like you have, or when you have a course of antibiotics.  Have you had intercourse during this week?”

“Ahh,” I pause to think.  “Yes. Yesterday and this morning – I was feeling better,” I add lamely.

“Well, I can prescribe the morning after pill, if you’d like?”

“Yes,” I nod
, not even hesitating.  “I’d like that.”  I’m definitely not ready for the responsibility a baby brings, not to mention Roam and I haven’t been together very long.

The doctor writes up the scripts and sends me on my way.  Jenn calls into the pharmacy on our way home and gets them filled for me.

When we get back, I crash on the bed.  Jenn comes in a few minutes later carrying a cocktail of pills.  I wash them all down with a glass of water and fall into a dreamless sleep.

~*~

It’s dark out, but I’m wide awake, puking again.  Roam comes in and hands me a cold washcloth, then he sweeps the hair off my neck and puts another washcloth there.  He rubs soft circles on my back as I continue to lose the contents of my stomach.  I’m so sick I can’t even think straight, I just want to sleep until I feel better.

~*~

Jenn wakes me.  It’s morning.  She hands me some more tablets, which I dutifully take.  My stomach seems to have settled, but I’m cautious to do anything in case I upset it again.  Roam brings a TV into the bedroom and he lays watching it with me until he gets a call from the club.

“Don’t do anything, okay, sugar?”

“I won’t,” I croak, my voice hoarse from all the vomiting.

“Jenn’s on her way back over.  She’ll be here in ten.”

“How long will you be?”  I feel my eyes sting with tears.  I hate being sick and emotional.

“Not long, darlin’.  I’ll be as quick as I can,” he answers gently.

“Okay,” I wave him off.  “Don’t mind me,” I laugh, brushing away a stray tear that travels down my cheek.

“Love you,” he kisses my hand and walks out.  I hear the front door close an
d then the roar of his motorcycle as he rides out.

I fluff up my pillow and sink back down into it, then I flick through the channels until I find an old rerun of Jerry Springer.

“Springer, really Lace?  You must be sick,” Jenn walks in and sits beside me on the bed.

“Don’t judge me,” I mumble.

“Ooo,” she squeals, “it’s the episode with the cheating transvestites.  I remember this one.  There’ll be a catfight in a minute.”  She watches, enraptured.  I shake my head, smiling then turn my attention back the television.  We spend the rest of the afternoon enthralled.

~*~

I feel the bed dip as the smell of leather fills my nostrils.

Roam is home.

“Hey,” I turn into his arms and snuggle into him.

“Hey, sugar.  You feelin’ better?”

“Yeah, I think the med’s have finally kicked it.  I haven’t vomited for hours,” I state proudly.

“Glad, darlin’.”

He kisses my forehead and I drift back to sleep.

~*~

“Have you got everything you need?”  It’s been four days since I went to the doctor.  I’m feeling much better now, so Roam is going off to do club business and I’m going back into work.

“Yeah,” Roam answers, sliding his cut over his shoulders.  He turns around to grab something off the counter and I stare at the large skull surrounded by flames that adorns the back of his leather vest.  The words Mayhem MC are above the picture.  Alabama is below.  Roam has the same tattoo spanning from his shoulder blades to the small of his back.  His arms are also covered in an array of brightly colored, intricate works of art.  Along with the club related ones, there
’s also a heart with Mom written through it, and a tribal design with Jasper’s name worked into it.  Combined with his ripped muscles, his body really is a work of art.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that, sugar, and I won’
t be responsible for my actions.”

“
Like what?” I ask, playing coy.

“Like you want to eat me,” he grins.

“Why, maybe I do,” I grin back and lick my lips.

He growls and stalks over to me.  His arms slide around my waist and he pulls my body flush up against his.  I can feel every ridge and contour, as his hardness molds with my softness.

“Miss you already,” I manage to whisper, just before his lips join with mine.  I open my mouth and his tongue slides in, dancing with mine.  His short beard tickles my chin as his lips move in sync with mine.

He pulls back and kisses my nose.  “See ya in a few days, beautiful girl.”

“See ya,” I say softly.

~*~

“Hey, Candy,” I wave across the room.

“Hey, Lacey, how you feeling, girl?”

I stow my handbag and walk over to her.  “Much better now.”

“You’re still looking a little pale, though.  You sure you’re over it?”

“Yeah, I haven’t vomited or anything for a few days now,” I laugh.

“Well, just go on and take it easy tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I walk off and begin filling drink orders, making change, collecting empties and wiping down tables.  It’s about an hour before my shift is due to end, when someone throws a rock through the window.  The closed window explodes and shards of glass spray through the room
, across the patrons and myself.  I crouch on the ground and then crawl over to help an elderly customer take cover under his table.  I peek up and scan the room, looking for anyone who is injured.  A few customers are groaning and others are bleeding, not bad, but that’s not the point. 

“Candy,” I call out.

“Over here,” she calls back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Timidly, I stand.  “Are all y’all okay?”  I yell.

A bunch of replies call back to me.  No one says no, so I walk over to the rock and pick it up.  There is a piece of paper taped to it.  In thick black marker is the word BITCH.  I set it back down on the floor and walk over to Candy who is helping people up to sit back on their chairs. 

“I’ll call Mitch and the police,” I tell her.

She nods. “I’ll check out everyone here.”

I walk over behind the bar area and find the bartender cowering in the corner.

“Are you okay, Paulie?”

“No, ma’am,” he shivers.  “I think I might have pissed my pants.”

“Oh,” my mouth falls opens wide.  Paulie is the best bartender in the state of Alabama, in my opinion.  He’s also hilarious and as gay as they come.  If Mitch would let him, I’m sure he’d come to work dressed in drag.

“Okay, well why don’t you sneak on back to Mitch’s office.  I’m sure he’s got a change of clothes in there somewhere.”

“Yes, ma’am.  Thank you.”

He stands and walks away.  I can’t help noticing the wet patch at the front of his jeans.  Poor kid.  He’s only two years younger than me, but he’s been fawned over all his life, so really, he acts about twelve.

I grab the phone off the wall and first dial the police.  I fill the operator in on the incident and then I call Mitch.  After a few choice words, he tells me he’ll be here in half an hour.

I announce to all the patrons that the police are on their way.  “Can y’all please hang around u
ntil they get here?  I’m not one hundred percent sure, but they need to get statements off all y’all.”

I get a chorus of “Yes, ma’am’s,” in reply.

“Okay, how ‘bout I get everyone a drink – on the house?”

A few cheer and clap, so I
grab some trays and begin pouring a bunch of beers and shots out. 

Candy walks around, handing out tissues for those who have small cuts, so they can clean the blood off themselves, and I hand out the drinks.  I also open a few bags of chips and nuts and set them out on tables for folks to share.

Half an hour later, Mitch storms through the door, followed closely by the police.  The police take photographs of the bar, the damage and the rock, then they place the rock in a plastic bag, before carting it from the bar.  They speak with some of the customers before announcing that they can go home.

Two officers take Candy aside, while another two do the same with me.  They ask me questions, but there isn’t much I can tell them, considering I didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary until the rock came through the window.  They take down some notes and then leave.

“Are you two all right?”  Mitch asks Candy and me when everyone has left.

“I’m fine. Just a little shaken,” I tell him.

“Same,” Candy replies.

“Okay, well I’m going to make a call and see if we can’t get that window repaired tonight.”

“Call Thompson Windows and Glass, they do emergency repairs, twenty four hours,” Candy says.

“Thanks, darlin’.”  He walks off into his office and I grab a broom and start sweeping.  Candy grabs a wet cloth and begins wiping the tables down to rid them of glass shards and dust.  It takes less than an hour to have the place clean again. 

“Window people will be here within the hour.  You two can go on home, now.  Thanks, girls.”

“
Okay, Mitch.  See you.”

“Oh, Lacey?
”

“Yeah?”

“Roam’s away, right?”

I nod.  “He’ll be home in a couple of days.”