Blue

 

Blue stared at her feet as they moved along the sidewalk, pausing to look up only when it was time to cross a street. Even then, she watched the passing traffic with a distant numbness, as though none of this was actually real.

 

Pregnant. The test she had picked up at the pharmacy that morning had confirmed it. Blue had stood in her bathroom, the same bathroom where Torque had showered, and stared at the little lines of the plastic stick for a solid minute before she finally understood what she was seeing. She’d called in, unsure of what else to do. She went back and forth between feeling dizzy and weak to feeling alive and energetic. She alternated between lying on the couch and cleaning the house. If that was just a hint as to what pregnancy would do to her, then she was going to be miserable for the next nine months.

 

Somehow, taking a walk had seemed like a good idea at first. She didn’t want to be at the shop, and she didn’t want to be at home. Blue just needed to clear her head, maybe think of nothing for a while, and then figure out what she was going to do. There was no doubt that she would keep the child, but there were other decisions to make. Should she track Torque down and tell him, or would it be best to raise the baby on her own? Would he be angry? Would he demand that she get rid of it because he wasn’t interested in being tied down? Should she go ahead and tell Spencer? It would give him ample time to get a guest artist in for her maternity leave, but she didn’t want him to fuss over her. Nor did she want to hear a lecture about getting involved with her clients.

 

Blue would have to figure out daycare arrangements. God, were daycares even open as late as she worked? Spencer’s wife had quit tattooing once she had the baby; was that the reason? Then she had to wonder whether or not she would have enough room at her house for a baby or if she was going to move, and just how the hell she was going to take care of a child at all. Her mother had practically let Blue raise herself, but she knew that wasn’t the right way to do it. There had to be a better way, but she didn’t know what it was. Why had she been so stupid?

 

Blue passed the park, dark and almost spooky in the night. Most of the street lamps on this block were out, leaving the jungle gym as nothing more than a skeletal shadow amongst the trees. She paused, imagining herself here as a mother with her child. She would watch as her youngster ran across the wood chips, calling out for her to watch, and attempting to climb the ladder to the monkey bars. Of course, Blue would have to help him, because he wouldn’t be able to do it himself yet. She would laugh and pick him up, holding his little body in the air while he pretended to swing from one bar to the next.

 

It was a nice thought, but one that would have been nicer if she knew she wasn’t going to be the only one doing the work. Mother hadn’t been able to do it alone, and Blue wanted a more stable childhood for her baby than she had ever had. But a biker father would only leave. No, it would be best if Torque never knew. He would never have the chance to run away from a responsibility he didn’t want. Blue wouldn’t need to schedule visitations or tell Torque to stop arguing with her in front of the baby. Maybe life as a single mother wouldn’t be so bad.

 

A loud truck rumbled by, slowing down a little as it passed her and making Blue wonder if walking at night had been a good idea. The day had flown by, and she was so used to being out at night for work that she hadn’t really thought about it. At this point, she was closer to the shop than to work. Maybe it would be a better idea to get to Spencer. He could give her a ride. He would ask her a million question, but he would still do it.

 

The distant sound of a motorcycle caught her ear, and she slowed down to listen to it. Was it Torque? Blue shook her head. She couldn’t tell the sound of one man’s motorcycle from another, and there were plenty of them in the city. No reason to think—or hope—that it might be him.

 

Gunshots punctuated the night, making her freeze. They weren’t immediately nearby, but they weren’t far enough away to make her feel safe. She turned around and jogged back toward the deep shadows of the park. Slipping under a tree, Blue fiddled with her phone. She could call 911, but she wouldn’t know what to report. There had been gunshots, but she couldn’t be sure exactly where they had come from. Someone else was probably already making a more detailed report, and her brightly lit screen would only make her conspicuous.

 

She shut it off as soon as she heard the rumble of motorcycles, this time several of them and headed her way. Blue held her breath as three men rode by. She didn’t recognize them, but the patches on the backs of their vests were familiar ones. They were Dirty Bastards, and they rode slowly through town with their narrow eyes scanning the streets. Were they looking for her, or just trouble of any sort? Blue didn’t know, and she didn’t want to find out. She pressed her back against the rough bark of the tree, holding her breath and silently praying that nobody chose that moment to call her.

 

The three bikers slid through the intersection and kept going. There were no more sounds of gunshots or bikes, only the distant whir of traffic on the main highway and a dog barking somewhere in the night. Blue let out her breath and braced herself against the tree for a moment. That could have just been a very close call, but she was all right. Time to go home.

 

A hand wrapped around her mouth from behind and pulled her backwards.