Leo
Life is fucking good.
It’s freezing but it doesn’t faze me in the slightest. My girl is home for Christmas break and I can’t wait to hold her, as well as other things.
Tightening the oil cap, I slam the hood down on the piece of shit truck I brought the other day and refrain from kicking the shit out of it.
“When are you going to talk to Slade? I’ve been waiting for months now, I’m not happy,” Dad says, standing on the front porch lighting a cigarette.
“India’s home today, we’re going to talk to him together,” I tell him, hoping this will sate him.
“Good.”
He heads back inside, and I head for my bike. I shouldn’t be riding in this weather, but nothing will keep me from getting to the cabin. I reckon snow is due and it will be the icing on top of the fucking cake for Christmas.
The cabin is freezing when I arrive. It needs to be warm and cosy before India gets here, everything has to be perfect.
Throwing a couple of logs in the fire place, I light a fire and watch the flames grow. Looking around, the whole place could do with freshening up. A quick clean up will have to do for now, so I whizz around like a maid on speed until I can’t see a spec of dust anywhere. It’s so quiet out here, I can hear her car slowly roll over the gravel, and I go to open the door for her.
She looks cute as fuck as she climbs out of the car in her big coat with a fake fur trimmed hood.
“I hate the cold,” she groans, barely making eye contact with me.
She pushes past me and heads straight for the fire place. What the fuck?
“Don’t I get a kiss?” I grunt, just standing in the doorway.
Last time I saw her, she ran and jumped in my arms, today she’s barely looking at me.
“What’s wrong?”
She stays by the fire and I’m starting to worry.
“I don’t want you to hate me,” she murmurs.
Now I’m definitely worried. I’ve never been with a woman like this before, and shit storm situations are running through my mind. The quarterback springs to mind, and my hands clench into fists. As numb as I’m starting to feel, I still say, “I could never hate you, I love you. Talk to me.”
I even manage to keep calm and inhale a much-needed deep gulp of air. She finally looks at me and I finally understand how it feels to be kept waiting. It’s shit.
“Did you fuck the quarterback?”
Finally, I get some sort of reaction from her. It’s anger, but anything is better than being ignored.
“I’m pregnant, Leo.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, my first instinct is to freeze, to think how I’ve fucked up and done wrong by her. However, slowly I unfreeze, and my mind slows down. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing.
She’s carrying my kid.
My kid.
“Okay…well, we we’re going to talk to your parents while you were home anyway, I’ll go and see your dad tonight. We’ll deal with this together, no matter what he says,” I promise her.
As I speak, I’m visioning a life I didn’t think would roll around for another few years.
Images of her stomach round with my child disappear and I see she has tears falling down her face.
“Why are you crying? I’m not angry…”
I don’t understand. It’s physically hurting me to see her upset.
“I don’t want to keep it,” she blurts out.
“What?”
“I’m happy at college now, and we’re in a good place. I can’t have a baby yet.”
I lose the feeling in my legs and I fall onto the couch behind me.
“Are you saying you want an abortion?”
She nods her head and I struggle to maintain a long breath, trying to wrap my head around this. My mind is spinning, and I can’t make it stop.
“No, I won’t let you do that.”
“Be serious, Leo. We’re too young. You live in a room at the club or at your parents, I’m in college which my parents pay for. How are we meant to raise and support a baby?”
I dart to my feet and go over to her. She flinches when I go to hold her hand, but I ignore it and grip onto her.
“I make good money with the club, and I only live there because I can. If you want a house, I’ll buy us a fucking house. I’ll get you anything and everything you want and need.”
“I can’t study and raise a baby, we can’t raise a baby, we don’t have the first idea what to do.”
It hits me in the gut, I’m wasting my breath arguing with her. She’s already made her mind up before she arrived here.
Releasing her hands, I walk over to the windows to put some distance between us.
“I knew you’d hate me,” I hear her say.
“I don’t, I think you’re scared and not thinking this through properly.”
It has to be that.
“I’ve done nothing but think since I found out, this is my decision, and I’m telling you, we can’t do this.”
I turn to face her and it’s like I’m seeing someone I’ve never met before.
“If you kill my baby, I will never forgive you,” I warn her.
She wipes her eyes, but I don’t see any tears left to discard.
“I hope you will one day.”
She goes to leave, and I don’t have one ounce of desire to chase her. The front door slamming shut snaps me out of the shock and anger replaces the frustration building inside me.
Who the fuck does she think she is, showing up here, telling me she’s pregnant but not keeping it, and not once letting me try to talk her out of it.
Flipping the table, everything placed on top goes flying onto the old, worn-out rug and I kick one of the bottles spinning on its side across the room. It smashes into the wall but doesn’t smash into tiny pieces.
I have to get out of here. I storm out of the cabin and rev my bike until I’m thrashing the throttle and riding out back home.
Luca’s depressing music is banging away up in his room, and I hear mom and dad chatting in the kitchen.
Mom is cooking, and dad is drinking a beer, sat up the table.
“Have you been crying?” Mom asks, being the first one to notice I’m home.
She goes on alert mode, and steps back from the stove. I’ve spoken with my mom many times over the years, she has good advice usually, and it helps that she doesn’t think like most mothers.
Tonight, I need to speak to my dad.
“I need to talk to you, alone.”
He exchanges a brief look with my mom and then stands, nodding towards the back door.
I follow him out and watch him shudder from the cold. I don’t feel a thing. It could snow around me, and I wouldn’t feel it.
“India’s pregnant,” I blurt out in a rush.
Raising his eyebrows, he stares at me for a moment then opens his mouth.
“No wonder you look like shit,” he says, draining the rest of his beer.
“It’s not because she’s pregnant, it’s because she wants to get rid of it.”
Frowning, he pats himself down and pulls out a pack of his smokes when he finds them in his cut’s pocket.
He lights one and passes it over to me. I take it and inhale so deeply, I inhale half the cigarette and he lights one for himself.
“She wants to kill my grandkid, huh?”
“What can I do? I have to stop her.”
He goes to open his mouth numerous times, but nothing comes out for a full minute.
“I wish this wasn’t happening to you this soon, but what’s done is done. Talk to her, make her see you’ll stand by her, that’s what she’ll want, to know she’s not alone.”
“Her mind was set when she left. I want my baby, dad, and I can’t lose her either.”
“You might be better off talking to your mom, she’s better with the girlie shit.”
“No, if mom finds out, world war three will blow up in our faces.”
“My only advice to you is to talk to her again. Apart from making threats and going against a brother I’ve known for over thirty years, I don’t know how to handle this without causing a war in the club and I ain’t having no wars in my club, son.”
Tears spring to my eyes. I didn’t expect my dad to sort this out, but I was hoping he would be able to give me a hopeful solution.
I grind my fists into my eye sockets to stop any moisture from leaking and try to take deep breaths.
“I’m sorry this happening to you, son.”
So am I.