Kelsey

 

 

A week later, Kelsey still felt the same stomach-wrenching panic she’d experienced the first time she laid eyes on that stupid little stick as it showed her two lines instead of the one she had desperately hoped for. She still had the damned thing, too — she couldn’t risk throwing it out, in case Spike somehow found it before she got a chance to tell him.

 

He never went into her bathroom, but she wouldn’t put it past him to root through her trash. The nosy, jealous prick. Ever since he’d made her his old lady, she hadn’t gone more than a couple of hours without either seeing or hearing from him, and God help her if she didn’t reply in time. He’d already come bursting into her room in a rage more times than she could count, and she was only going on five months with the Mongols. She had no idea how he’d react once she told him she was carrying a baby — especially because she was almost positive it wasn’t even his.

 

Kelsey sat on the edge of her bed, holding her head in her hands. She massaged her temples gently, trying to stave off a massive headache. She’d just gotten back from a secret visit to the doctor, during which she learned that she was eight weeks along.

 

If only that was as bad as things would get. But it wasn’t so simple. There was more to the story, more than she was willing to confess out loud yet.

 

Eight weeks ago, on the one night she went to a bar other than Diamond’s, she’d had a one-night-stand with a guy whose name she never learned. He had taken her to a nearby motel for the best sex she’d ever had, and now there was a baby in her.

 

She wondered grimly if the sex had been worth it. Now, she had to lie to Spike about when it happened, lie to him about who the father was, lie to him about everything. If he knew the truth, she had no doubt he’d expel her from the Mongols, and that was something she just couldn’t chance.

 

She picked up her phone and pressed a button, staring at the image on her lock screen. Her sister Hannah had been twenty years old when she was killed on the street during a mugging. The case had gone as cold as ice in a matter of months. The police knew nothing, except that witness accounts placed a man in a jacket emblazoned with the Mongol club crest at the scene. There were no other tips, and in the four years since Hannah’s death, not a single person had come forward with information.

 

At the time, local news reporter Kelsey Jones was only tangentially aware of the existence of the two motorcycle clubs in the city. But as she watched her sister’s case slowly disappear under piles of new crimes, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Citing her overwhelming grief as the cause, she took a leave of absence from her station and dove headfirst into the underworld of the Mongol club without looking back. Her job, her life, her ties with family and friends — she had given up everything in her search for the truth.

 

And now she was in deep trouble. The pregnancy forced her to admit that she was one hundred percent reliant on Spike and the Mongols, ironically. When Spike took her on as his old lady, she had left her cozy little apartment to live with him at the compound. It was a change that had thrilled her in the moment. She’d thought that being so close to the inner workings of the club would guarantee her success in one way or another. But it was slow going; she had yet to do anything besides drink, smoke, and party with a horde of intimidating and often lecherous men, and now she couldn’t even do that.

 

Spike himself was the worst of them. He spent most of his days riding around with a posse, exerting his dominance over everyone within the bounds of what he considered his territory. At night, he returned to the compound to get blind drunk at Diamond’s and stagger back to their rooms at three or four in the morning for unfulfilling sex. Spike’s stamina was mediocre at his peak, and when he was drunk, Kelsey was in for five minutes of tepid penetration before he rolled off and started snoring. Once, she awoke the next morning to find that he had drunkenly pissed all over the bed.

 

As far as she was concerned, the big surprise was that it had taken her so long to have a one night stand in the first place. But Kelsey was quickly becoming of the opinion that if she’d seen one biker, she’d seen them all: grizzled men with beards and permanent scowls, often a beer gut hanging ponderously over their belts. Or, they were built like skinny, scraggly Spike, with beady eyes set deep into sharp, mean faces. Two months ago, she’d finally had enough, and she left the compound while Spike was out joyriding to grab a drink at another, hopefully quieter bar. That’s where she met the other man.

 

He was sitting on the stool beside her, his amber hair clean and combed. The golden stubble on his jaw seemed perfectly suited to his face, and when his eyes fell on her, he smiled warmly. Though Kelsey saw the tattoos spidering up from the backs of his hands into his shirt sleeves, though the beaten leather of his jacket looked awfully familiar, she found herself responding to him nonetheless.

 

He bought her a couple drinks and didn’t slip anything into them, something she’d caught a few Mongols trying to do. And despite the clarity of his sexual intentions, he made efforts to get to know her a bit before suggesting that she follow him back to a place he knew. By the time that suggestion was made, Kelsey was more than happy to go wherever he wanted. She realized as he took off her clothes that she’d been starved for male attention that didn’t leave her feeling like she needed an extra shower.

 

The sex was like nothing she’d ever experienced; it was like this sexy stranger already knew her body. He had taken her to places she never knew existed, and now that she was back with Spike, she feared she’d never get there again. If she’d known his name, she would have been screaming it — he was that good. And she knew he enjoyed himself, too. The experience was so mutually satisfying that for a moment afterward, she was afraid he might ask for her name and number.

 

But to her relief — and slight disappointment — he had simply given her another warm smile and put his clothes back on. She remembered his voice as he told her she could check out whenever she was ready, or even stay the night if she wanted. Then he leaned over the bed, kissed her one last time on the mouth, and walked out. The guilt had lasted less than a minute before Kelsey admitted that she had no regrets. Of course, she didn’t stay, and Spike was still nowhere to be seen when she got back to the compound. So, she thought the whole thing would be consequence free. What Spike didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

 

Clearly, that wasn’t the case anymore. Kelsey squeezed her head and cursed herself for the thousandth time. All she could think about was how she’d just thrown away the best opportunity she had for finally solving Hannah’s murder. She was so close, and yet she couldn’t keep her pants on long enough to reach her goal. It was all so demoralizing, and she had no one but herself to blame. Spike? She could say it was his fault, sure. His fault for being so criminally bad in bed, for both neglecting and smothering her, for being a generally reprehensible human being. But she was the one who left Diamond’s and didn’t say no to that other guy. She was the one who couldn’t get a grip on her hormones.

 

Kelsey wanted to cry. She felt so selfish and horrible, completely undeserving of a sister as gentle and loving as Hannah had been. All of Hannah’s texts and voicemails were still saved on her phone, but since she found out about the pregnancy, Kelsey couldn’t bring herself to listen to Hannah’s voice. She wished so badly that she could call and ask for advice, but at the same time she knew that if she had Hannah, she wouldn’t be anywhere near this situation. No one asked her to risk herself to solve a hopeless case. But even in the depths of her despair, Kelsey couldn’t imagine turning back. It was unbearable to think that her little sister might lie in her grave forever without justice. No, she had to soldier on.

 

No matter what.

 

She was asleep when Spike came in that night, and for once, he didn’t wake her. He was just coming out of the shower as she awoke, and he actually smiled at her. “Mornin’, babe. You sleep well?” He leaned over to peck her on the forehead and she let him. He smelled strongly of his cloying cologne.

 

Kelsey rubbed her eyes. “Yeah,” she mumbled. She sat with the covers wrapped around her, watching him get dressed. “What are you doing today?” she asked. “Anything fun?” The small talk always sounded lame, but she made it anyway.

 

Spike laughed. He planted himself on the edge of the bed by her feet. “Everything I do is fun, dollface,” he said. “You don’t worry about it. Just sit in that bed and look pretty. That’s why I hired you.” He laughed again at his own bad joke and bent down to tie his boot laces. She shot a brief scowl at his back. It never took him very long to say something that rubbed her the wrong way, and he was in rare form this morning. She decided impulsively that she’d knock him down a peg. After all, she had ammunition this time.

 

“Can I tell you something?” she asked, adding a slightly sultry note into her voice to keep him interested. He sat up and glanced at her, a greasy smirk turning up the corner of his mouth. Kelsey fought the urge to roll her eyes and shove him off the bed. She bit her lip and his smile widened.

 

Then she dropped the bomb. “I’m pregnant.”

 

Spike’s face morphed from slimy expectation into genuine bewilderment. He glanced down at her stomach. “Pregnant?” A pause followed. “The kid’s mine, right?” There was an edge in his voice that Kelsey didn’t like at all, but she nodded and smiled, hoping to encourage a positive reaction. The last thing she needed was to deal with one of his notorious meltdowns. He scrutinized her face searchingly, as though trying to sift out lies with his naked eye. Then he made an unconvincing half smile with his mouth. “Great, babe. That’s great.”

 

Kelsey frowned. “You’re not happy.” She wasn’t really surprised. Spike Lawler was hardly the fathering type; of course he wasn’t happy. What did a drug-dealing, hard-thieving lowlife like him want with a child? It would change his life if he cared, and even if he didn’t, it was one more life to support.

 

He sighed. “Look, I —” He ran his hand over the shadow on his jaw. “It’s not a good time. It’s never gonna be a good time, if I’m honest with you. But you’re knocked up already, so who gives a shit, right? You’re still my old lady.” He pecked her on the forehead. “Now, be a good girl while I’m gone. Don’t get into trouble.”

 

The condescension in his voice was enough to annoy Kelsey for a decade. It was clear that he blamed her for getting pregnant, conveniently forgetting that he was the one who was always too drunk to wrap it up, that he had told her months ago to toss her pills. “Come on, baby,” he had said. “That stuff’s a scam. I don’t want you polluting your gorgeous body with all that trash.” She should have called it quits right then, but the desperate search for any sort of clue into Hannah’s murder made her stay. Back then, she was still a bit afraid of him, so she really had thrown out her birth control, so he wouldn’t find it and kick her to the curb.

 

Now, she forced herself to smile and nod again as he got up and went to the door. “See you tonight?” she asked, in what she hoped was an alluring tone.

 

He chuckled. “We’ll see.” The door closed behind him and the smile slid off her face and broke into pieces on the floor. She hated that he always had to keep her guessing; it was part of his bizarre power play. She’d learned very early on that Spike wasn’t satisfied unless he was in control, even if it was an issue that didn’t impact him. And now, in roughly seven months, she was going to give him a child.

 

Great job, Kels, she thought bitterly. You nailed it. Not that he knew she was only two months along. He hadn’t bothered to ask for details, as she knew he wouldn’t. In a way, the relief that her secret was still safe alleviated her stress somewhat, but not much. The question of the baby’s parentage haunted her. Should she try to get in touch with the mystery man? It would be madness, but part of her felt she owed it to him to at least try. Maybe he’d be a great father. Or maybe he’s just another prick. It didn’t matter. Spike would go absolutely ballistic if he knew she had cheated.

 

In her heart, she knew Spike might make her give up a baby that wasn’t his. She shoved the thought away and lay back against the pillows. The rest of her pregnancy stretched out before her like a fever dream — thirty-eight surreal weeks. Eventually, and maybe sooner rather than later, the morning sickness would start. She told herself that maybe it would be cathartic to actually be sick instead of just feeling sick all the time. She could use the threat of vomiting to keep Spike’s hands off her. Was it optimistic to think that Spike Lawler, who couldn’t respect any human being outside of himself, might respect his pregnant girlfriend? Probably. But Kelsey had made a habit of hanging on to the dregs of hope, and she wasn’t about to stop now.

 

The doctor had advised her to return in two weeks. On the day of her appointment, Kelsey made herself get out of bed at a decent hour, did her hair and makeup, and dragged herself reluctantly out of the compound. She put sunglasses on before she got outside so that anyone she passed in the corridors wouldn’t be able to see the dark rings around her eyes that still showed through her foundation. Sleep wasn’t coming easy at night, and she didn’t want any weird questions. Spike had already told her that people were starting to ask where she was, why she hadn’t been showing up at Diamond’s lately.

 

His attitude seemed to imply that she should start going again, pregnant or not, but she knew that if she stepped foot into the bar, the pressure to consume alcohol would be very strong. And even though she was miserable, Kelsey knew she had to do as right as she could by the child growing inside of her. The baby was her insurance policy, her guarantee of safe passage among the Mongols. Any woman carrying the seed of Spike Lawler would be treated like she was made of gold once the news got out, as would inevitably be the case. But until then, Kelsey resigned herself to a fast walk, hiding behind tinted lenses.

 

The appointment itself went reasonably well. She peed in a cup, had her blood pressure taken, and answered an endless litany of questions about everything from her diet to her stress level. The questions about her family caused a great wound to open in her heart, but when asked if she had a sibling, she smiled shakily and said yes. Her blood was drawn for testing, and she was given a due date of early March.

 

She found the news to be strangely comforting, and on the way home, a little wave of excitement rolled within her. She was in no position to be a mom, and she knew as well as anyone that her current circumstances were all but prohibitive. But Spike was right, for once: the baby was already growing, and there was nothing she could do. Kelsey decided to do what she always did and hang on as tight as possible to the shreds of hope.

 

That’s what she was doing when she got off the bus and started the four-block walk to the Mongol compound. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice the car pulling up alongside her.

 

But the time she saw it, it was too late to get away.

 

The doors opened, and two men in leather jackets jumped onto the sidewalk and grabbed her. One of them clamped a huge hand over her mouth before she could scream. She was pulled into the backseat, the doors slammed shut, and one of the men barked an order to drive. Behind them, the bus she’d just disembarked was rumbling off in the other direction, too far for any of its passengers to have seen or heard her.

 

Kelsey sat up in the seat, her cautious optimism swiftly replaced with indignant rage and a healthy dose of fear. She clawed at the hand over her mouth until the guy glared at her. “Cut it out, missy,” he snarled. “I got a bag for your head, but I thought I’d be nice and leave it in the trunk. You want it?” Her heart pounded faster, but she refused to answer with anything other than her own furious stare.

 

“Hey, cut it out, Raff,” said the driver, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Take your filthy paw off her face if that’s what she wants. She ain’t jumping out on the highway.” As if to emphasize his point, he turned onto the ramp and stepped on the gas. “She doesn’t look that dumb.”

 

Grudgingly, the man named Raff removed his hand from over Kelsey’s mouth and made a show of wiping it on his pant leg. Traces of her lipstick smeared the fabric; she could feel it on her cheeks and chin, too. She wiped her lower lip brusquely, examining her dyed fingers. “Thank you,” she said, somewhat sullenly. In the close quarters of the backseat, she noticed that her abductors had patches on their jackets. There was something oddly familiar about them. “Where are we going?” she asked.

 

“None of your business,” Raff replied. “You’ll find out when we get there. We could’ve blindfolded you, but you got lucky.”

 

“Would you shut up about that?” the driver snapped. A moment of irritated silence followed, and then he continued, catching her eye in the mirror.

 

“You’re going to Chopper,” he said. “He’s your new old man.”

 

Kelsey swallowed hard. It looked like rock bottom might be a little deeper still.