Chapter 22

Marc

Almost before I turn out my light I hear gentle snoring coming from the other room. I smile to myself, typical man falling asleep after sex.

I thump the strange pillow, trying to get comfortable, and start regretting what I’ve just done. What the hell made me go with him tonight? Was I so desperate any male could have serviced me? Whatever the reason, and however good he made me feel, it can’t happen again. I can’t get in any deeper than I already am with these men. I’d be risking my job, my career, and my future.

And my heart. While Les had been my fuck buddy, I felt nothing other than friendship. We didn’t date, just hooked up when we were both in the mood. It’s different with Heart, I already like him. That I missed him so much while we were apart illustrated that. What I should be doing is building up my walls to keep him out, not to allow him closer inside.

When he’d gone missing in LA I should have recognised the first warnings. My frantic worry made me throw caution to the wind and brought me to Drummer. I should have seen the signs and made a conscious effort to stop caring. But if I had, Heart would be dead.

I turn over the other way, but while the bed’s soft it doesn’t seem conducive to sleep. Okay, I admit, I like him more than I should. But for the sake of my sanity, this can’t go any further. From now on, I’ll keep my distance.

Then I scoff at myself. That won’t be hard. We’re two adults who had sex when they both needed the edge taken off. There was no emotional involvement or connection, we didn’t even kiss, and no after-sex cuddles. I’d behaved just like one of their club whores, and being still hung up on his dead wife, that’s all he wanted.

And all I wanted from him. Isn’t it?

At long last, my thoughts stop circling and my brain eventually shuts down. When I wake I’m annoyed that I spent so long worrying about a man who’s got nothing to give, and didn’t spend the time in more profitable ways, thinking about how best to minimise my stay at the Satan’s Devils’ compound.

Pulling the door closed for some privacy, I get showered and dressed for the day, appreciating the accommodation, which is far more luxurious than I had expected. I could almost be staying in a vacation resort, certainly nothing like my training and research had led me to believe. I open the door and step out onto the balcony, leaning over for a second, enjoying the view and the warmth of the sun and breathing in fresh, untainted air. The desert is laid out before me, stark in its beauty, and the glorious cloudless blue sky seems to have endless promise for the day. It resembles the calm before the storm.

I’ve dressed in skinny jeans and have chosen a t-shirt with a Kawasaki logo on it. I’d pulled it on over my head with a grin.

I’m just about ready when there’s a knock at my door. Going to open it, I’m not surprised to see Heart.

For a moment, he looks at me searchingly. “Breakfast?”

“I’m starving.” I could add that it was the late-night activity that’s made me that way, but I don’t. And he doesn’t allude to it either.

“I’ve got to work out with Peg in the gym this morning.” He swings along on his crutches.

“Got a punch bag? Weights?”

“Got the fuckin’ lot.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

He looks a little surprised, but then grins. “Saves me gettin’ someone else to watch ya.”

The clubhouse is different to how I’d seen it last night. Quiet conversations are being exchanged between more subdued bikers, and there’s no music playing. Jekyll and another prospect I haven’t yet met, but who Heart tells me is called Fergus—though apparently just shouting Prospect will do as well as a name—are wandering around with black garbage sacks, emptying ashtrays and picking up empties. Once again, we head for the kitchen.

I’ve met the other old ladies before, so give a nod and a smile as a greeting, which I’m pleased to see is returned—at least there seem to be some people prepared to be friendly—then Heart directs me to a seat at the table, and sits alongside. Sophie puts a couple of heaped plates in front of us, and then follows it up with steaming cups of coffee. I express my heartfelt thanks.

There’s sounds of a child laughing and a baby crying. I turn around to see Sam and Drummer walking in. Amy drops Sam’s hand and makes a beeline for Heart, clambering up onto his lap. Her fingers sneak out and snag a piece of bacon.

“Little monkey.” Heart laughs fondly as she stuffs the food into her mouth.

“Here, give this to her.” Sophie puts down a smaller plate of scrambled eggs. Amy picks up a fork and starts digging in, and Heart doesn’t turn a hair when some lands in his lap, nor when little greasy fingers tangle in his hair.

Sam’s rocking the crying baby. Drummer pulls out a seat and hands her a blanket. She covers herself and discreetly puts the baby to her breast. No one takes any notice. When she’s got him settled, she looks across to Sophie, who’s leaning against the counter with a coffee in her hand. “Where’s Ollie?”

“Olivia is with Wraith. Having some daddy and daughter bonding time.”

Sam laughs. “You mean she’s screaming her head off and you wanted some peace.”

Sophie frowns as if she’s going to disagree, then grins. “Something like that.”

The whole scene around me seems totally incongruous. This is a biker compound, the criminal element my police colleagues want to see put in the ground. But what I’m seeing is a loving family, chores shared, babies fed in plain sight. Something I never would have expected. I’m taking a lot from my stay here, but if Drummer’s worried I’m storing up tips as to how to take him down, he’s completely wrong. I’d never want to do anything to destroy this seemingly idyllic life.

I feel like an outsider, it’s been so long since I was part of anything. As Heart pulls my finished but not empty plate toward him and starts eating my leftovers as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, I feel my eyes becoming wet. It’s just what my older brother would have done.

I stand and walk to Sophie. “What can I do to help?” I point to the finished plates stacked up.

Within moments she’s got me working, and busying my hands stops the threatening tears.

Other bikers wander in and I help Sophie serve them, getting strange looks, and a huff from Peg as he notices my shirt.

“Peg. Keep your eyes off my old lady’s tits,” Heart tells him firmly.

Peg’s eyes widen, then points at the logo. “Prez, can’t we ban stuff like that?”

Another biker who’s name I don’t yet know, laughs. “Bring it up in church, Peg.”

Church. That’s a common term for bikers to call their meetings.

Breakfast eaten, men get up with comments such as ‘got to get to the shop’, or ‘bar needs stocking at Angels, I’ll be there all day’ and ‘got to go help Marsha at the restaurant’. Any other family getting ready to do an honest day’s work. Where are the comments about weapons deals? Or about burying bodies? Why’s nobody taking or mentioning drugs? Is it just because I’m here? But the remarks flowed so naturally, nothing seemed to be put on for my benefit.

“An hour, then meet you in the gym?”

“Sure thing, Peg.”

“Daddy, bike!” Amy’s eyes light up, and she tries to drag Heart out of his seat. He laughs and tells her to be careful, then follows her outside.

She’s got a kid’s bicycle, one with training wheels, and she mounts up then starts zooming around. Heart’s looking at her with a look of love on his face. He turns to me. “Reckon she could have the training wheels off now, but I can’t run alongside her.”

I watch her, seeing what he means. “Want me to help?”

He turns, his eyes assessing me. “Yeah. If you don’t mind.” At my nod, he summons the child, who claps her hands excitedly as he starts to take the small stabilising wheels away.

We take her to a piece of land with flattish grass, their barbeque area by the look of all the grills and firepits scattered around, and for the next hour I’m running alongside the bike, at first using my hand to balance her, and then when I think she’s ready, stepping back and letting her do it alone. I remember my father doing this with me.

When she realises she’s riding all by herself, Amy can’t stop, so pleased with herself. After a few minutes she throws the bike down, runs back inside, then comes back out, followed by the several bikers she’s managed to round up, and demonstrates her new found ability to them. Sam and Sophie come out, babies in arms, laughing and cheering her on.

“Hey, Heart!” It’s Peg yelling.

“Go on, I’ll watch her,” Sam offers.

With one last fond look at the little girl I helped teach to ride, I follow Heart into a very well-equipped gym.

I’m unprepared and not dressed for it, but hey, if I ever need to defend myself I won’t be able to stop and put on sweats, so I tackle that punch bag as I normally would. At first I watch Heart out of the corner of my eye as he’s put through his paces by the unrelenting sergeant-at-arms. Then I become focused on what I’m doing, pausing only when strong hands grip and stop the bag.

“Go on. Give it another shot. You’re weak on your left side.”

Thanking Peg, I start again, listening to his instructions, altering my stance and perfecting my punches.

When I’m exhausted I bend double to breathe. Peg goes back to Heart, patting me on the shoulder as he passes. “You did good, girl.” And I take it that’s great praise from the taciturn man.

He slings a towel at me, and as I stand wiping sweat off my brow, my eyes again find Heart, realising how much effort he’s putting into getting strength back into his legs.

At last Peg thinks he’s done enough, and even I can see the exhaustion on Heart’s face.

“Drummer wants us in church. To discuss…” Peg jerks his head back over his shoulders and towards me, making it clear what the subject of their discussion will be.

I seethe, knowing I’m not going to be invited. But with a sigh I realise it’s not unlike when the higher ranked officers at the precinct would have a closed meeting, only feeding information down the ranks on a need to know basis. Even so, I’m not happy that others are making decisions for me.

Jekyll’s given strict instructions not to let me out of his sight, and I’m left in the clubroom, along with the Sophie and Sam, their babies, and Amy. Carmen and Sandy have apparently gone to work, one a hairdresser and one manages a restaurant, and Ella has gone shopping in town. Such normal activities and, again, unexpected.

The babies are on playmats, kicking their toys. Sophie’s encouraging Olivia, who’s apparently eight months old, to crawl. We all clap as she rolls onto her stomach. Amy is playing with a toy motorbike and some dolls. I get down on the floor and start dressing them with her, soon making them talk and have conversations, which makes her giggle.

After a while Sophie looks up. “It’s a warm day outside. Who fancies a swim?”

Sam’s eyes light up. “That would be fun.”

At the same time, Amy leaps up and starts jumping up and down. “Swim!”

Sophie looks at me. “I can lend you a suit if you don’t have one.”

“Swim?” My eyes narrow. “Where?”

“Surely you’ve seen the pool?” I did, when I was outside with Amy, a glimpse of blue behind some hedging.

“Is it clean?” I’m dubious.

They both burst out laughing, and Jekyll seems to make a strangled cough from behind.

“If it’s not the prospects won’t get patched in. Right, Jekyll?”

I turn to look at the man, who’s looking disgusted, but nods to agree. And then speaks. “Hyde tested the water last night. It’s all good.”

Sophie gets to her feet. “Well, come on then.”

The bathing suit she provides is a tiny bikini, which I view doubtfully, before deciding I can keep my t-shirt on.

The pool’s lovely, the October day not too hot or too chilly, just right for lounging around. Amy’s latched onto me, and I play with her in the water, realising I’m becoming attached to the little girl. She wants to learn to swim, so I take her into the shallow end where she can just stand. Soon she’s got her water wings off and I’m encouraging her to try taking a few strokes toward me, proud as punch when she manages a couple of seconds keeping afloat on her own.

When we’ve all had our fill of the water, we go back inside. Sandy, back from the restaurant, is already in the kitchen, and I help her as Sophie and Sam make sandwiches for lunch. The water’s tired the kids out, so we take them to the nursery they’ve got set up, and even Amy lies down for a nap on the cot there. Obviously used to this, both women switch on monitors, make sure they’ve got the relevant parts with them, and we return to the kitchen again.

Halfway through her sandwich, Sophie looks across at me. “You’re a natural with Amy. You should have a kid of your own.”

And just like that, my enjoyment of the day disappears. My face must drop.

Sam spots it immediately. “What’s up, Marcia?” I shake my head, but she’s not going to give up. A friendly hand touches my arm. “Come on, spill. You’re among family here.”

I might be accepted by these old ladies, but know I’m not by the men. This is a family, just not mine. I lost my family eight years ago. Angrily I swipe the tears from my eyes.

“Oh, come on, love.” Sophie’s arms come around me. “What’s up, hen? Didn’t mean to upset you.”

I look from one to the other, and then fuck knows why, but I let it all out. I take a deep breath and let the words tumble out. “I was in an accident,” I explain. “I lost my family and was badly injured. The doctor’s told me I’d never be able to have a baby.”

The women exchange looks of horror. “Oh, hun. When was this?”

“When I was eighteen.” I try to shrug it off, summoning up what I hope passes for a smile. “I’ve had plenty of time to get used to the idea.”

And that’s a lie. I never have, and never will.