Pierce
Pierce stared at the wall of his office, trying not to think about anything at all. When the world was quiet like this, when everyone was out or sleeping, it was really hard to keep his mind where it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be thinking about numbers, budgets, and about keeping the MC on the right side of the law. He certainly wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Felice.
But he couldn’t keep his mind off of her for more than a few moments. Even after months of being apart with almost no communication, he still thought of her every moment of the day. It’s not like he could separate how successful and clean the Millennium Mayhem Motorcycle Club had become from Felice’s influence; it was entirely her money that had allowed them to come this far this fast. The motorcycle repair shop was up and running, and everyone here had a job and a real income. Pierce had slowly begun to learn what foreign things like tax forms and social security were; they had never had to worry about such things before all this had happened.
And most of it was Felice’s influence.
But he would try anyway, try to force thoughts of her away for a moment or two to give himself some peace.
Overall, Pierce had a pretty good life; for the first time ever, he had considerable money in the bank, a thriving repair business, and his people loyal. Most of them still lived in the old warehouse, even though they could now afford apartments in the area. That sort of loyalty to him filled him with a feeling he couldn’t describe.
“If everything is so wonderful, why can’t I get Felice out of my head?” He wondered how much longer the pain would linger, how much longer it would take him to move on.
Standing up from his desk, Pierce milled around the room, pondering over his next moves. There was quiet knock at the door, and Pierce let them in with a growl. “What is it?”
The door opened, revealing Razor. Nothing had really changed about her in the months since Pierce had come back, but there was an air of something new in her. It was like finding herself a business woman on the right side of the law had made her stand up a little straighter.
“We’re good to go on the Christmas thingy, boss. The Callie Project has agreed to work with us,” Razor said without preamble, walking into Pierce’s office with that her shoulders back and her eyes determined. “We’ll get the project off of the ground by December 1st.”
“Perfect; thanks, Razor. I owe you one for taking care of that for me.”
“Anything else I can do for you, boss?” She flipped her long, half-shaved hair out of her face with a practiced motion. There was a frown on her leathery face.
Sighing, Pierce leaned back in his chair, his eyes locking on Razor’s. “Is there something you wanna say to me?”
She made a face and shrugged. “That depends on whether you’re thinking about going to visit Nevada this holiday season or not, I guess.”
Pierce winced. “I’m not planning any trips anywhere, Razor. And it would be best if you didn’t bring it up again.” Razor shrugged, closing the office door behind herself, leaving Pierce alone with his memories again. The memories of Felice’s perfect white skin. The gentle part between her cupid’s bow lips as she moaned his name. The way her hands —
Better stop thinking like that. It was hard enough to get anything done with Felice haunting his mind all the time; remembering the times he spent warming her bed wouldn’t make anything better.
As though his thinking of her brought it on, Pierce’s phone buzzed with the sound of chiming bells. It was Felice’s unique ringtone. Sweating, Pierce reached for the phone with fingers that shook.
“First pictures of the baby; it’s a boy. :)”
And Pierces heart collapsed, turning into a black hole in his chest. The ultrasounds looked like blobs of an unfinished sculpture to Pierce’s untrained eye, but he knew there was a child in there somewhere. His child. He saved the photos in his phone without replying, returning to the lifeless, colorless world he now lived in. Before, this repair shop was everything he ever wanted. But somehow, spending a few weeks with America’s dream girl had altered him in ways he couldn’t comprehend.
But he would go on. And one day he would spend a few minutes not thinking about Felice and his unborn son. Then maybe a few hours. Then maybe a few whole days at a time. The pain of losing her wouldn’t go away, but maybe one day it would be a little more bearable.
“Felice doesn’t want me part of our kid’s life. I can’t decide if her sending me these updates is worse than nothing.” He stared down at his phone, thinking about replying to the message, but ultimately deciding against it. He should have blocked her number, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He should have burnt the pile of magazines that he’d bought with her photo in it, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself from buying them whenever her perfect face peeked out from the pages.
Well, at least the world loves her again. Getting back with Clay has been a huge boost to her career.
But it didn’t stop the pressure from clamping down on his heart every time her name came up in conversation. He was pretty sure that nothing would ever stop that pain.
Taking a deep breath, Pierce took his jacket, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. Perhaps a visit to the hills would help out his head.
# # #
Felice
Felice stared down at her phone, hoping that Pierce would reply to her text. Almost immediately, the photo was shown as “looked at,” but no reply ever came. Sighing, Felice fought back tears as she set her phone down gently on the counter next to her.
Standing on the cold, white kitchen tiles in her bare feet, Felice felt a little nauseous. She’d never thought that things like morning sickness and swollen feet would be on her list of problems to deal with, but she didn’t regret the decision to keep Pierce’s child. If nothing else, their son would be a little piece of him that she could keep.
There was a knock at the door before Clay entered, his eyes roaming the rooms until they found her. “I’m always in the kitchen, Clay,” she wanted to say. “Always. It is the only room in this house that I love. Not that you would take the time to learn anything about me. No, that would take too much effort.”
“Hello, darling,” Clay frowned, putting unnecessary emphasis on the word. It made Felice feel even more nauseous than she was before. Clay walked in and sat down across from her at the counter. He didn’t even bother trying to kiss her cheek anymore. Clay, just like Felice, was tired of pretending. It was hard enough to pretend for the cameras.
“What do you want, Clay?” Felice asked after a long deep breath. It was the only thing that kept her from snapping at him.
Clay pulled out his phone and immediately started flipping through something, his scrolling ensuring that he didn’t have to look at Felice’s face. She silently fumed. Then he made it even worse by opening his mouth. “Well, the producers want to end this season with a bang, you know? And one of the little guys who gets coffee had an idea.”
Felice frowned, pretty sure she was already going to hate this idea. Running her hands over the swelling of her belly, she stayed silent and waited for Clay to finish.
“So, they thought it would be a good idea to have a wedding for the season finale. That way your little bastard baby can grow up with a real father. Or something.” Clay waved dismissively like it didn’t matter one way or another to him. “Something about keeping it real with the conservative fans or something.”
Felice just blinked at him, unable to summon a reaction. The world seemed to tilt a little while Clay was talking. Without meaning to, Felice went to her coffeemaker and turned it on, letting the scent and sound of the coffee spilling into the carafe soothe whatever was left of her spirit. “I should have stayed with Pierce. I should have taken the hard route.” She didn’t say anything in response, and Clay somehow took that as a sign that she also thought the idea was a good one.
“You should start picking out rings and all that nonsense; they’ll want to film the party and engagement episodes in the next few weeks. If you buy whatever ring you want, I’ll pay you back. Get it soon.” Clay stood up from the bar, his eyes still locked on his phone. “I have a date tonight, so don’t bother texting me with pictures. I’m sure whatever you pick will be fine.” Without a single word of affection or farewell, Clay was gone, his face still so buried in his phone that he couldn’t see how unhappy Felice looked.
Pouring herself a big cup of coffee, Felice slowly stirred a bit of milk and sugar in. Then she dumped half of it out in the sink. “Doctor says no more than one, eight-ounce caffeinated coffee a day.”
She stood around in her silent kitchen, sipping slowly on her one allowed coffee. The misery of everything that had happened to her so far was starting to push hard against her shoulders, weighing her down even more than the baby inside of her stomach.
It took every ounce of willpower and courage she had inside of her to not run to her phone and beg for Pierce to take her back. Hating every second of her new life, Felice couldn’t even take any joy in the fact that the world seemed to have fallen in love with her and Clay as a couple. She didn’t care that her career was back on track, that the ratings were up, or that the store was doing well.
She just wanted Pierce by her side.
Tears slipped down her face as she cradled her growing belly with her arms. “But I need a father for my child that doesn’t break the law, that doesn’t ride with a gang. I need Clay for the cameras, for now.”
Maybe someday, she would learn to love someone new, and be free of both Pierce and Clay.
But she doubted it.