Fractured & Formidable: The Sacred Hearts MC Book V (27 page)

“Is it possible?” she asked. I had told her when we were
safe in the bubble of my car, away from Zander overhearing.

“Yes,” I sounded miserable even to myself, “Please don’t say
anything!” I pleaded as Zander climbed off his bike and headed our direction.

“I got you Sis,” Everett said. Zander opened my door and
crouched beside me.

“Hey, how you doing?” he asked me. I didn’t exactly have to
lie to cover my tears, I only had to tell half of the truth.

“I’m so sorry,” I said mournfully, “I’m holding all of us up
and making everyone so miserable and some of them are getting angry and it’s
all my fault!”

“Ohh, hey no, nobody’s mad at you, Sugar. You can’t help
being car sick.”

He kissed my forehead and gave me a watered down version of
his usually phenomenal smile. He was tired, from a night spent too long
drinking, from getting up early for the funeral procession and from a long ride
fraught with stops.

“Hey, girl,” Cutter came up behind Zander and handed him a
soda bottle of ginger ale. Zander cracked the top and handed it to me.

“Sip on this, Sugar.”

“Gotcha some saltines too. Might help settle your stomach,”
Cutter remarked. I took the bottle from Zander which was cool but not cold and
sipped gratefully.

“I gotta hit the head, you sit tight, okay Baby?” I nodded
and Zander kissed my forehead. Cutter crouched down, taking his place.

“Good, now here, you take this,” he reached around behind
him and pulled a white paper bag out from the waistband of his pants, from
under his cut. I handed the bottle of Ginger Ale to Evy and took the bag, my
hands closing on a cardboard box inside. I looked. Cutter had bought me a
pregnancy test. I looked up from the bag in my hands.

“Thank you.”

“No problem Sweetheart. Better to know than not. We’ll get
you taken care of as soon as we get to the house. We got an hour or two more.”

Everett handed me the bottled drink and took the pregnancy
test, shoving it down between her seat and the driver’s door of my car as
Zander came back out and headed for the car. Cutter put a box of saltine
crackers in my lap.

“Thank you,” I repeated. My hands trembled. I was scared.
What if I was pregnant? Zander had commented a few times now about hoping I was
up on my birth control pills. I was. I mean I thought I was. I agonized for the
hour and forty minutes it took for us to reach our destination, realizing,
horrified that I
had
forgotten to take a pill. The day of the shooting
and that Zander and I had made love, without any other protection. I closed my
eyes.

I was pregnant. I had to be. I was sure of it, but I would
hope against hope. I would pray it wasn’t so and I would take the test. We
pulled into the drive of a very nice, very big old house that sat right on the
beach. The front drive lush with foliage and private from the road.

Zander opened my door and I got out. It was warm. Too warm
and I stripped off my cardigan. The black of my funeral attire needed to go
even though it was well past sundown by this point.

“Go get cleaned up and lay down, Babe. I’ll bring in your
bags.” I nodded and Everett pulled my overnight bag with a nightgown and my
robe out of the back seat. We’d decided it was a good idea for our first night
so we didn’t have to go fish through all our luggage. We were well aware we
were all going to be here for a very long time. Months. That it would take as
long for things to resolve with the police still investigating. That no move
could be made until then. At least not by our men. We didn’t know what The
Suicide Kings would and wouldn’t do.

Everett and I went into the house. Cutter showed us to our
rooms and I changed quickly and quietly into my nightgown. Everett met me in
the hall in her own version of sleepwear, a ribbed tank top and a pair of men’s
boxers. She ushered me into a bathroom, thrusting the box into my hands and
shut the door behind me.

I stood for a long while staring at the little blue and
white box, sitting on that bathroom sink like an accusation. I felt like it was
taunting me for my monumental stupidity and as I tore it open, tears sprang to
my eyes. I was terrified. Terrified that Zander was going to be so hurt, angry
and disappointed with me. I swallowed the lump in my throat, read the
directions and peed on the stick’s felt tip. I capped the damned thing, set it
on the counter and washed my hands.

I opened the door and Everett slid in. She sat cross legged
on the floor and I sat nervously on the closed lid of the toilet, knee bouncing
in agitation.

“How long do we have to wait?” she asked.

“Any minute now.” I looked at my watch and watched the
seconds tick by. Finally I let out my breath and with a glimmer of hope stared
down at the stick. Everything crumbled around me.

It was positive.

Revelator…

“Dude, Rev you better get in here! Mandy’s having some kind
of a meltdown,” Ghost shouted from the doorway of the house. It was dark out
here, the golden rectangle of light behind my brother casting him in deep
shadow. I couldn’t see his face so I couldn’t read him but his words, in
combination with the strain in his voice had me dropping the bags I’d been
pulling out of Ashton’s Jeep and running for the door. Ghost turned sideways in
the frame and I barged past him.

“What happened?” I shouted, as I made for the sound of my
girl’s noisy wracking sobs. She was through the living room, past the stairs,
sounded like she was in the kitchen. I found her sitting on top of a kitchen
stool, Everett holding her and rocking her. Ashton, Shelly and Hayden stood
nearby and they were all three huddled together wide eyed. Cutter leaned
against one of the counters nearby, hands stuffed into these little front
pockets on his cut, mouth puckered and twisted in consideration as his eyes
roved the scene going on in front of him.

“What the fuck happened to my girl?” I demanded and his
eyebrows went up.

“I think she needs to tell you that friend,” he said gently.
But Red was inconsolable.

“Everett, the fuck over?” Everett looked at me over Mandy’s
head, a desperate look on her face like she’d never even seen Red like this
before. Red unburied her tear stained face from Everett’s shoulder and looked
at me from across the kitchen as I stood there helpless and feeling like a
jackass. I needed to know who to punch before I could make it better.

“Please don’t be mad at me!” she cried and took several
short hiccupping breaths. My brows crushed down in confusion.

“Babe why would I be mad at you?” I went to her and knelt on
the floor in front of her. I put my hands on her knees and tried to urge her to
calm down.

“Shh. It’s okay Sugar, tell me. You can tell me anything you
know that.” She quieted and swallowed hard.

“Promise you won’t be mad,” she demanded and I was confused
as fuck.

“Baby, I don’t think I’ll be mad but I can’t promise anything
until I know what’s wrong!”

She stared down at me, debating, for a really long time
before her face twisted with the oncoming fresh round of tears.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Zander…” she sobbed and I was
beyond fucking confused.

“Babe, baby you gotta calm down…” I tried and failing I
barked out “Will somebody clue me the fuck in!?”

“I’m pregnant!” Mandy shrieked in response to my outburst
and I fucking froze. I stared up at my girl who looked like she was going to
hyperventilate and the moment crystalized and hyper focused.

I asked very calmly, very quietly, “You’re what?”

I was vaguely aware of the girls’ faces behind her breaking
into smiles as my Red whimpered and repeated herself.

“I’m pregnant,” she repeated. I felt myself break into the most
beatific smile ever and Red instantly calmed.

“You’re not mad at me?” she asked meekly.

I stared at her, stunned as her words sank in. My Red, my
girl, was pregnant with
my
kid. Holy shit.

I took her hands in mine while I processed this information
and tugged gently. Everett let her go and backed away, and Red slipped off the
stool and to her feet. I looked up at her, my hands went to her waist and I
stared at her stomach. I felt tears start in my eyes and I didn’t even fucking
care that I was supposed to be some big fucking tough guy.

“Let me get this straight, we’re having a baby?” I asked her
and stared up the length of her beautiful body. She wore the cream satin
nightgown I liked on her so much, her green robe edged in its fiery autumn
leaves hanging open. I stared into my girl’s autumn colored eyes, framed by her
fiery autumn hair as her calm returned. She nodded and repeated her question,
her soft voice filled with wonder and hope.

“You’re not angry?”

I turned my head and put my ear to her stomach, my arms
going around her and holding her firm, holding her close. Her hands drifted
from my shoulders, her fingers tangling in my hair and I heard a bunch of
‘awww’s’ and a smattering of applause.

“No baby, I’m so ridiculously fucking
happy
right
now… Oh my God… I’m gonna be somebody’s daddy all! With the woman of my
dreams!” Out and out cheering went off then and Red closed her eyes, tears gone
from panic and fear to ones of gratitude and joy coursed down her cheeks.

“I love you so fucking much,” I said to her and climbed her
body, struggling to my feet from my knees. I pulled her mouth down to mine and
kissed her savagely.

“I love you so fucking much!” I whispered fiercely and she
cried a little but it was ruined in the most perfect way by her laugh.

“I love you too!” she cried and held on to me tightly, while
the women of The Sacred Hearts, the men of The Kraken and my brother Ghost all
clapped and cheered. I looked at Sunshine over my girl’s shoulder, her face lit
like her namesake and full of happiness and I looked to Shelly, her hands
covering her mouth, her jewel bright eyes lit with happiness and joy.

Finally I looked at Hayden, whose face was slicked with
tears, sure, but even she was smiling and I felt some constriction around my
heart ease. I pulled back and cupped my girl’s face in my hands and stared into
her eyes for a time before I kissed her.

My club had just experienced such heartache, such
excruciating pain and death. I was so proud that it was my girl that would
bring life to it again. Breathe happiness into my brothers and sisters, even
for this small moment. My woman, my Goddess of autumn would be the one to
really put us on the path to healing again by giving us something to believe
in, to remember that good things were out there. That good things happened too.

“I love you until forever.” I told her and she smiled, face
crumbling with yet more tears as she nodded between my hands.

“I love you until forever too.”

Forever never sounded so good.

Red-XIII…

Back in early November…

I stood by a dude named Rowdy, just inside the door to the
Suicide King’s club house and sniffed like it weren’t no thang while their VP
eyed me.

“What the fuck did you say your name was?” he asked.

“They call me Thirteen.” I answered with a shrug.

“What the fuck kind of a name is that?” he asked. He was a
tall, burly motherfucker, probably six foot three, with long dark brown hair in
a short pony tail that stopped between his shoulders. He looked at me with a
shrewd brown gaze and by all accounts had more than a little evil in him.

I couldn’t and wouldn’t resist yanking his chain a little,
“Well, you ever hear the one about the horse in the bar with the pot of money?”
I asked.

“What you some kind of fuckin’ clown?” he demanded, crossing
his arms over his chest, his leather cut strained over the shoulders of his
black tee shirt. He planted his booted feet shoulder width apart and he had on
some hardcore motorcycle boots, the kind you wouldn’t want to be stomped into
the asphalt by. They rode under dirty jeans, the blue of ‘em faded and stained
light brown with both dust and too many wears without washing ‘em, which is
where this shithead probably got his name from. Pig-Pen was emblazoned on his
flash over his chest on the left side of his cut. Dude reeked of marijuana and
dirt but thankfully
not
B.O. At least he had that going for him because
he had a shitty personality to go along with the shitty look on his face.

I gave a one shouldered shrug and he rocked back on his
heels with a gusty sigh, “Fine, fuck, tell me the damned joke and you better
make me fucking laugh or I’ma have your ass beat,” he growled.

“So dude walks into a bar and down at the end is this
fuckin’ horse with a pot of money in front of him. Dude takes a seat at the bar
and after his second beer, his curiosity gets the better of ‘im and he asks the
bartender ‘Dude, what’s up with the horse?’ Bartender shrugs and says, ‘It’s
easy bro, you put a dollar into the pot and if you can make the horse laugh,
you get to take what’s in it home.’”

“So the dude eyes the horse and has another beer and finally
gets up, walks over and puts a dollar into the pot which it totally
overflowing. He looks the horse in the eye, leans forward and whispers in the
horse’s ear and the horse just starts fucking dying man! The horse is laughing
so fuckin’ hard it can’t breathe and the dude, he picks up the pot of money,
nods to the bar keep who’s standin’ there fuckin’ jaw hanging and he leaves the
bar.”

Pig-Pen does not look amused but I ain’t fuckin’ done so I
keep going. “So a year or two goes by, and the dude blows back into town and
stops at the same bar. Same barkeep, same horse, new pot of money and he asks
the bartender, ‘So what’s the deal now? Same thing?’ and the bar tender,
looking smug, crosses his arms and leans back and says ‘Naw, this time you
gotta make the horse cry!’ and the dude shrugs like it ain’t no thing and goes
over to the horse and whispers in the horse’s ear and the horse starts cracking
up again.”

“The bartender raises an eyebrow and the dude turns his back
on the bar and faces the horse and does a little something, and the horse stops
laughing and just starts bawling, man! This horse just starts weeping these
massive fucking tears and the barkeep, man he’s fuckin’ stunned and the guy
picks up the pot of money and the barkeep yells, ‘Hey! Stop! What the fuck did
you do to my horse!?’”

“The dude stops at the door and turns and says to the
bartender, ‘First time I told him my dick was bigger ‘n his, the second time? I
showed him.”

Pig-pen blinks at me and starts fucking laughing a deep
belly laugh and I sniffed and undid my belt, he stopped and his eyes bugged a
bit.

“What the fuck are you doin’!?” he demanded.

“You wanted to know how I got my name,” I brought myself out
of my pants and let fly. Pig-Pen looked, I mean shit, I knew what I was packing
and how could you not?

“I take it that’s where you get the Thirteen,” he said and
he wasn’t laughing no more.

“Yep,” I said dryly and tucked myself back into my jeans and
zipped back up. Pig-Pen looked me up and down, considering and finally broke
into a broad grin.

“You got a brass fucking pair to go along with it! So you
wanna hang around and see if the MC life is for you?” he put an arm around my
shoulders and led me deeper into the Suicide King’s compound.

“Oh I know it’s for me…” I said and smiled one evil fucking
wicked grin on the inside. This had been way too fucking easy.