26.

Elise

Standing in the bathroom, my legs lean against the vanity while I stare into the mirror trying to figure out what to do with the rat’s nest my hair has become. A couple thoughts hit me. What started out as lunch for Beau and I turned into two hours of food and conversation with several of his brothers and Trish had joined us. Trish who indeed got on Sneak’s shit telling him in no uncertain terms in front of God and everybody that since I was now with child, he’d better get to work knocking her up as well. My hand automatically goes to rub my yet nonexistent belly with that thought.

Part of me wants this to be just us. For me and Beau alone to give the club a legacy, the prince or princess of the Brimstone Lords. But then, there’s another part which feels like our kid having other kids to grow up around would be a good thing. A really good thing.

And as I think about it, forget about a shot of guilt, I get hit with a full forty ounce bottle of guilt for thinking happy thoughts when my friend Crass has been placed in a medically induced coma fighting for his life because he promised to protect mine. And I can’t even go up to see him. Why is my life worth more than his? I don’t have the answer to that except the brothers, including Crass, all think I am.

Then there’s Livvy. My friend. My sister from another mister who was kidnapped and thrown inside a wooden box which had been nailed shut, secured around the perimeter via a metal chain, and lowered into the frigid water of Lake Michigan. The seals on the box were sufficient to keep the air pressure intact enough to withstand the box filling up with water immediately, but she would have drown if we hadn’t found her.

She’d run out of air in those last split seconds. She had to hold her breath. My friend. My sister from another mister who recuperates in Chaos’s bed at this moment. Who still hasn’t left his room. Who hasn’t even told Chaos if she’s willing to talk with me. And I have no one to blame but myself.

I started this.

Whatever reason Houdini has to hate me, Beau or the memory of Logan, I started it the day I picked Logan Hollister. Hadley is dead. Liv could have died. Crass still might. My friends suffer needlessly, dragged into our mess because I had a crush on a cute boy.

My eyes close to the sting of tears forming in them. But strong arms wrap around my waist, a nip to my shoulder and a kiss to my jaw. My eyes open to my badass biker resting his chin on the spot on my shoulder he’d just nipped. His eyes catch mine, twinkling with his love for me. So I push back into him, intent to soak up the warmth he radiates, and hope the push and the newly formed twinkle in my eyes shows him the same.

“Carver got ordained,” he says.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Carver. Got ordained. He went online, Church of Purple Snowflakes or something. I don’t know, all I know is it’s legal for him to marry us. And before you bust my balls, hear me out.”

I nod subtly.

“Right. First. We were plannin’ on gettin’ hitched anyway, and we were plannin’ on sooner than later until Houdini struck again. Now that we’re havin’ a baby, it needs to be sooner because when I take you to your doctor appointments it’s as your husband. Saw the ultrasound picture you’d stuffed behind the strap of your bra. Fell out when I was takin’ it off you. Didn’t know what it was, fell face down. I got distracted. Just picked it up, looked at it.”

I reach up behind me to comb my fingers through his peanut butter locks. No bun, no hairband to encumber my movements. “I’d forgotten I stuffed it there, what with the kidnappings and all. I didn’t want Crass to see it because I didn’t want him to know before you.”

“’Preciate it. What I don’t appreciate, it said Baby Manning.” In a sudden movement he flips me around and sets my bottom on vanity, then gently forces my chin up so he has my attention. “That baby, my baby, is a Hollister. Period. We’re a family. A unit. Won’t be long before we’re back in our home. Anyone livin’ under my roof lives there with the last name Hollister. Caveman, I know. You’ll deal. With me so far?”

Again I nod. Less subtly, as the mood calls for.

“Good. The next, well, the next is for you and me, but also for the boys, for Liv. For Tommy and Maryanne, and anyone connected with the club. We’ve had a rough patch. Time for some fun, to let off some steam. With Houdini still on the prowl. With Crass’s condition. With Livvy in kind of a bad place in her head, we all need a reason to celebrate. You agreein’ to a wedding is you givin’ that to them, all of ’em. Think you got it in you to give ’em that?”

I might have given him shit about the Hollister name. I’m still me, I have to give him shit on principle alone, but what he said, about giving them a reason to celebrate? After everything they’ve done for me…

“Okay,” I kind of mumble.

“Promise baby girl, it’ll be the pig roast of all pig roasts. Since the compound’ll be swarmin’ with brothers, won’t be a safer place for you on the planet. Maryanne’s comin’ by the club to help you plan seein’ it’s not safe for you to leave without an escort, and the boys are pretty busy right now. It’s the best way.”

A couple hours later Maryanne showed up bearing gourmet coffees from the little coffee shop downtown and a bottle of alcohol-free sparkling wine to celebrate my good news. News Beau had clearly shared, because I hadn’t had the chance to thus far. And she let her displeasure on that known in no uncertain terms.

“Can’t believe it’s finally happening.” Maryanne sits at the pool table we’d turned into wedding planning central with me. We’ve got Beau’s laptop open creating custom biker chic invitations. He wanted those silhouettes of naked chicks sitting, leaning on their arms behind them, one knee bent, one high-heeled leg stretched out long in front of her. The kind you see as decals on the back of pickup trucks.

We nixed that idea pretty quickly. None of the boys have a clue to the design we do come up with. We even found a coupon online for forty percent off the first order which is great seeing as they’re custom, and we have to order two hundred of them.

All our badass bikers should be pleasantly surprised because I know they’re thinking tuxedos, tulle, and yards of pink and cream. Bump that. I’m a Brimstone Lady. So much so that Mar and I keep going, page after page, until we find the bones of the dress I’ve been searching for on a site which does custom orders.

“Maryanne, I want you to be my matron of honor. You and Trish and Liv standing up with me. That is if Liv’ll do it.”

“She will. Give her time, it had to really freak her out.”

“Give who time?” We both turn our heads. Livvy. Always beautiful Livvy stands at the mouth of the hallway to the back rooms wearing one of Chaos’s Lord’s T-shirts knotted at the hip to show off her perfect figure and a pair of denim cutoffs, faded with a fine layer of fringe around the legs and at the pockets. It’s the first she’s ventured out since her rescue.

“How are you?” I ask in lieu of a response.

“Chaos says I’m not allowed to answer I’m fine. He says I have to answer truthfully, or he’s forcing me to a shrink. So I’m not fine, but I’m better than I was.”

This is not a moment for words. This is a moment for hugs. And she’s just going to have to suffer through it. I shove up from my chair tucked between the wall and pool table to make it to her in three quick steps, and pull her into my arms.

“Love you, Liv.”

“Liv, I’m Maryanne,” she says by way of introduction as she wraps her arms around both Liv and me. “I can’t be left out of hugs. It’s a sickness.”

I can always count on Maryanne to give the tension break we all need.

“What’s going down at the pool table?” Liv asks, pointing to our workstation once we’ve let her go.

“It’s where all the cool kids hang.” Maryanne answers for me.

I laugh, feeling that lightness Beau said we all need, and shake my head. “Planning a wedding. Beau got bent because the ultrasound picture said baby Manning.”

“Let me guess,” Liv says back. “Anyone livin’ under my roof has the last name Hollister.” She drops her voice and pulls out her best country twang to sound like Beau.

“How’d you know?”

“Chaos was bitching at me last night. The nerve of you having them put the name Manning instead. I tried to tell him it doesn’t work that way. No matter how many times I told him you don’t chose the baby’s last name until it’s born. While it’s inside the mama, it’s got the mama’s name. He thinks you could force the issue.”

“Men,” Maryanne grumbles.

“Men,” both Liv and I agree.

“Would you stand up with me?” I ask her.

Those big blue eyes of hers go even bigger.

“Think you’re up for it?”

“Oh Elise, I’d be honored. This is…this is…amazing.” And she burst out in tears.

“Honey, please don’t cry.” My arms circle her waist as I try my best to console her. “Well you and Maryanne together, pick out a few different ideas for bridesmaid dresses. We’re going for biker chic. Then you can show the choices to Trisha.”

“Aren’t you a bridesmaid short?” Maryanne asks.

I throw her a ‘what?’ glance.

She throws a frustrated ‘come on’ back my way. “Beau’ll have Tommy. He’ll have Chaos. Sneak. But he’s not getting married without Liv’s brother standing up with him. You said Carver’s officiating.”

“He is.”

“Well then, who you gonna ask?”

“Who won’t Blood mind standing up with?”

“There’s a hot mama he talked about all the time. Although I’m not sure she actually sleeps with the men. More helps take care of them for a place to stay. You’ve probably seen her around,” Liv says. “Her name is Hannah. I don’t know that he’s sweet on her, but they’re definitely friends.”

“Hannah? Oh, right. With the long brown hair and great big boobs.” I shake my head as I think about it. “I do know her a little. She’s friends with Trisha. One of the dancers at the club. I wonder if she’d do it, since we don’t really know each other well.”

“You could always be a bitch.” Maryanne cuts in. “And ask Candy to stand with you.”

“Girl, she’s not even invited. Terms of me saying yes. No Candy. No George and Margo.”

“Like George and Margo would show if they were. You Hollister whore.”

Maryanne would be the only person on this planet allowed to call me that without threat of ass kicking. So to that, I rub at my eyes with my middle fingers, flipping her the double bird.

“I guess we’ll never know because they’re not invited.” Although completely irrational, I can’t help the sudden wave of hormonal emotion crashing down on me, and drop into a chair as I burst into a fresh round of ugly tears. “My baby’s never going to know grandparents. Never.”

“What about your mom?” Maryanne asks.

“Haven’t heard from her since I moved here in high school.”

“That’s harsh,” Liv says, like I don’t know disowning your only kid isn’t the epitome of wrong.

“Sure she’s happy at UC Medical, living a great life as a Denverite.”

“She’s a doctor, too?”

“That’s where she met my dad, in medical school.”

Then Liv slides into the seat next to mine to rub my back. “Well…maybe this baby won’t have grandparents.”

Maryanne pulls another chair up to the pool table. She rubs my back too, so I’m surrounded by the love of my girls, my sisters.

Liv rests her forehead against my cheek. “But it’ll have aunts and uncles, even if not by blood, who’ll love him or her unconditionally. Okay?”

“Okay.” I sniff.

“Baby girl, why you cryin’?” Beau walked into the clubhouse from whatever business he’d been up to, spying me and my tears straight away. He moves close. Maryanne moves for Beau to drop to his knees in front of me. He brushes my hair away from my eyes, searching them as he holds my face. “Plannin’ this is s’pposed to be fun.”

“No grandparents,” Maryanne offers.

To which he replies, “Huh?”

“Her dad’s gone, your parents suck, and she hasn’t talked to her mama in seven years. Pregnancy hormones.” She ends on a whisper.

“I know they suck. It all sucks. Wish Doc was here to meet our little miracle.” He absentmindedly rubs his hand over my belly. “But promise, Elise. Promise our kid will have all the family he or she’ll ever need and will never go a day feelin’ unloved.”

“We’re having a baby.” I tell him.

“We are.”

“We’re getting married.”

“We are.”