Tara
Waking suddenly, I push myself to an upright position, my eyes darting and focusing on the figure at the end of the bed. Blinking, I watch as his smile grows.
“Hey,” he says softly. “You slept well.”
Pushing hair away from my face, I smile back. “You didn’t come back to bed.”
“Sorry, baby. Couldn’t sleep.”
The look on his face tells me he’s having a hard time with this. With what he did to his father. “You look sad, angry even. Is this about Jeffries?” I almost choke on the name as I force it out.
“I’m fine, honestly.”
Lie. I know he isn’t.
“So everything was okay with the baby? They checked you over?” he asks.
“Yep,” I reply, biting the corner of my lip. I feel like I can’t avoid this any longer. I thought about leaving it. “I have my first appointment with the obstetrician soon.”
“Good,” he says, shuffling until he’s sitting right beside me. Stopping, his eyes lock with mine before narrowing.
“What’s wrong?”
I drop my eyes, losing contact with his gaze. I grab at the sheet and play with it nervously. “Nate…” I pause, wondering how I’m going to say this. “I, uh, need to know something.”
“Baby, you’re scaring me. What is it?” His forehead crinkles and he dips his head in an attempt to catch my eye. I look at him, tears pooling.
“Is it true that you’re infertile? That you know this baby isn’t yours?”
“What the hell…”
“I need to know, Nate. You know how I feel about you. If this baby is yours I just know I need to keep her... him... it. But knowing it’s the result of your father raping me. Well, I just can’t do it. I can’t live with the terror he put me through staring back at me for the rest of my life.”
“This baby is mine,” he says with a harsh tone of finality.
“So you weren’t ill as a teenager? Told you wouldn’t be able to have children?”
“What? Why would you ask me that?”
“Answer the question, Nate,” I say in a raised voice, my eyes wide and waiting for a clear answer.
“No. I don’t think so. I don’t know,” he rushes out dropping his head and shaking it from side to side.
“You don’t know?” I ask, my voice a whisper and I cover my mouth as I let out a controlled gasp. “How can you not know?” I throw back the sheets and slowly step up from the bed. My leg is stiff, but I need to go to the bathroom. Bile stings my throat and I’m not sure I can keep it down.
“Stop,” he yells, grabbing my free wrist.
“Don’t,” I mumble, my hand still covering my mouth. I snap my wrist from his hold and hobble as quickly as I can over to the bathroom, dropping to my knees when the toilet is in sight. Retching, I empty the small contents of my stomach, the muscles in my tummy aching with the force of the contractions.
“Shit, T, are you okay?”
Unable to answer, I shake my head from side to side, reaching up and grabbing a handful of toilet paper. Wiping my mouth, I drop back until my ass hits the cold tiled floor. “I have to know the truth, Nate.”
“Honestly, I remember being ill when I was just a kid. I don’t recall them telling me I’d be infertile.”
“I need more than that.”
Lowering himself until he’s sitting beside me, he takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “This baby is mine. I know it. I feel it in here.” Using his other hand he taps his chest lightly.
My heart thumps in my chest and I love his passion and desire for this baby. “It’s not enough.”
“What? Me. Is it me?”
“No!” I gasp. “I love that you feel so strongly about this baby that you’ll do whatever it takes to make it work. But what happened to me, Nate, it eats away in here.” I tap the side of my head. “And here too,” I say, pointing to my chest. “How could I bring a child into this world with the possibility that it will just be an ugly reminder of the rape. There’s every chance I could resent the baby, and that wouldn’t be fair on anyone.”
“But there’s also a chance that the minute you set eyes on the baby that you’ll love it no matter what.”
“A child should be a product of love. Not rape and torture.”
“Listen. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll go see a doc. Find out from my medical record if there’s any truth to this. But, baby. I’m pretty sure I would remember something like that.”
“I hope you’re right. I want this baby. But I also want it to be yours. No one else's.”
Shaking his head, he looks me deep in the eyes. “This is fucked up. So fucked up. I’m sorry, baby.” Encasing me in his arms, he pulls me closer to him and my head rests against his chest. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”
“I hope so,” I say, trying to be stronger than I feel on the inside. Stepping up from the floor, Nate grabs my hand and pulls me to standing.
“Izzy called while you were sleeping,” he informs me and I scrunch up my nose.
“What… this early?”
He chuckles. “Yeah.”
“Did she say why?”
“She’s coming here this morning. She has a surprise for you.”
“Oh, I’m not sure I like the sound of that. What kind of surprise?”
“Babe, don’t put me in the middle between you and your friend. She’ll kick my ass if I so much as let it slip.”
“Hmmm… and what if I’m the one doing the ass-kicking?”
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulls me closer, tilting his head to the side and smirking widely. “Why, Miss Mellano. I think I like the sound of that.”
I flutter my eyes and feel the heat rise in my cheeks. “I should get showered,” I say, changing the subject.
With a squeeze of my hips, he dips his head, kissing me softly on the lips. “Need help?”
“No, no,” I rush out, conscious of the fact I have just woken and been sick. I pull back, quickly rinse out my mouth and look at his face. My eyes skirt over his features, looking at the scars on his young face. A face too young for such scars.
“What is it?” he asks.
“The scars on your face.” My voice is weak and barely comes out as a whisper.
Narrowing his eyes, his brows knit together as he looks confused. “We both bear the scars of my father.” There is a deep, pained, sorrowful look in his eyes. They glisten, but not in a good way. In a way that shows me how much he’s hurting.
Lifting my head, I clear my throat, connecting with his eyes. “But together, we can heal. We can overcome this. You and me. Healing scars.”
His hand snakes from my waist and lands on the back of my neck. Drawing me toward him, he holds me there like he never wants to let go. “You amaze me, T. What happened to you is horrendous and I will live with the guilt of what he did to you forever. But you are so strong, so brave when most would’ve crumbled.”
“I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head a little against his hold. “I’m barely holding on.”
“Baby, you’ve got to give yourself more credit.
With a sudden hit of realization, I draw back. “Shit. I never thanked you.”
“Thanked me?”
“Nate, you saved my life. God knows where I would be right now if you hadn’t risked your life to save me.” A shudder wracks through me. “I was sure I would die there. How did you find me?”
“Precious, Hunter’s whore, gave me an address to try to save Hunter. She knew that me pressing him for the information would compromise Hunter and put him in a dilemma between us and his own MC.”
“She knew where your father was hiding out?”
“Well, yes and no. The address she gave me wasn’t right. I mean, they had been there, but had moved onto the old warehouse where he was keeping you hostage. But when we got to the first address the Deathseekers were there. Brewer had hold of Davo and making a deal with Hunter was the only way we’d get out of there alive. We were ambushed. I had no choice but to offer him the drug deal with Brax.”
I widen my eyes. “Brax is agreeing to that?”
“Not exactly.”
“Shit. You need me to speak with him?”
“I don’t want you involved. This is business between me and Brax. I won’t put you in the middle of that.”
Stepping back, I cross my arms over my chest, annoyance causing my heart to thump a little faster. “I’m always going to be involved, whether you like that or not. Because anything that affects you, also affects me.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know that. I just don’t want you caught between me and your best friend.”
“I get that, Nate, I really do. But you have to understand that even club business will and does affect us.” I point between us and watch as he awkwardly pushes his hands into his pockets, his eyes focusing on the floor.
“I’ll let you shower,” he mumbles, turning and heading out of the bathroom. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
Rolling my eyes, I close the door and lean back against it, letting out a barely audible growl of frustration. “Men.”
* * *
After a quick shower, I stand in front of the mirror, peeling back the gauze protecting the small cuts across my neck. Showering and trying to keep them dry was tricky, but I just about managed it. Focusing my eyes downward, I allow the gauze in my hand to fall against the counter, scared to look up and face the marks that will probably scar me for the rest of my life. Slowly, I lift my gaze, catching my reflection in the mirror. Small raised patches, now covered in scabs, line the entire surface of my neck. I lift my shaky hand, pressing my finger cautiously to one of the small cuts closest to my chest. Tears sting my swollen and bruised eyes, but I won’t give that bastard the satisfaction of letting them fall. My neck is a mess, my face too, but I know it will heal.
I’m alive.
I somehow managed to survive.
And for that, I have Nate to thank.
My hero and my everything.
The beat of my heart and the reason I can still breathe.
Everything I need and so much more.
My eyes flit up to the mess that is my hair. Shaking my head, I tie it back the best I can and make my way out of the bathroom and over to the bed. I drop down against the mattress and rest my fingers on the edge, gripping it as the image of Jeffries flashes through my mind. Squeezing my eyes tightly, I try to force out the memories, but it’s not that easy. I hear his voice playing repeatedly in my mind as if he were actually in the room.
A loud bang snaps me from my train of thought and I whip my head, looking at Izzy standing at the door.
“Shit, did I scare you?” Rushing over to me, she sits beside me wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
“In a world of my own,” I say with a chuckle, hoping to placate Izzy. “So, I hear you have a surprise for me.”
“I wanted to do something to cheer you up and make you feel better. Don’t hate me, okay?”
“Jesus, this doesn’t sound good.”
Tilting her head to the side a little, she pushes out her lips, pouting a little. “Hopefully you’ll love this. But if it’s too much too soon, just let me know.”
“Ookay.” I exaggerate the word. Taking my hand in hers she guides me up from the bed.
“Get dressed and I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.” She flashes me a huge smile and I can’t help but smile back.
“Be down in a few minutes.”
Stepping up from the bed. She walks over to the door, giving me a nod before closing it. I walk over to the wardrobe, searching for something comfy to wear. Pulling out some of my workout gear, I slide on my yoga pants and grab one of Nate’s T-shirts. Pulling it over my head, I take in a deep breath as I inhale his scent. Even though the clothes are clean, I can still smell him. Grabbing the neck of the shirt, I pull it to my nose and close my eyes as I take in the comfort of his unique smell. Slowly making my way over to the door, I remember my phone. Grabbing it, I light the screen and check for missed calls or messages.
“Shit,” I grumble when I see how many times my mother has called. I lock the screen and open the door, making my way down the stairs all the time clutching the phone in my hand. I need to call her. Have the dreaded “I’m pregnant by a biker” conversation. A conversation I haven’t got the mental strength to deal with right now. I haven’t wrapped this whole thing around my own mind, let alone having to explain it to my own erratic mother.
As I reach the bottom of the stairs I hear some strange voices coming from the kitchen. I head in there and see Nate leaning back against the counter, an amused look etched on his face. His eyes watch the animated man in the middle of the room who appears to be flapping his arms around while talking at a crazy fast speed.
“Hey.” Izzy spots me loitering in the doorway and beckons me. Stepping inside I glance at Nate who hides behind his hand as he snickers at the colorful and very vibrant guy standing beside Izzy.
“Hey,” I reply, lifting my hand and waving a little nervously.
“Oh, darling,” the guy addresses me, reaching for my hand and pulling it to his mouth. He kisses the back of it gently, while looking up at me. “I’m Eddie. So very pleased to meet you.”
“And you.” I look at him and wonder what the hell is happening. “But I have to say, I’m a little confused as to who you are and why you’re here.”
Laughing loudly and throwing back his head, he lets my hand drop. “Patience, my dear. All will be revealed.” He lifts his hand and waves it in the air.
“Izzy,” I say, grabbing her arm and keeping my voice low. “Please tell me what the hell is going on. I feel like I’ve stepped into the twilight zone or something.”
She chuckles. “Eddie has come with me today to give you a little hair makeover. I thought after, you know, what happened, that having your shorter hair cut into a style might help you feel better and move on.”
Smiling sadly, I open my arms and embrace her. “You are so sweet. And yes, I would love to get this mess taken care of.”
Leaning into me, she whispers, “And I know he seems a little crazy, but he’s the best hairdresser money can buy and always manages to put a smile on my face. Call it therapy!”
The flamboyant hairdresser talks with Nate and I can’t help but laugh at the look on his face. “Nate looks positively terrified.”
We both giggle.
“Shall we get started?” He spins on the spot, turning his attention back to me.
“Let’s do this,” I reply with a smile.
“I’m, uh, going to get going,” Nate stutters, stepping toward me. “You okay if I head out for an hour?”
“Sure.” Pressing up on my tiptoes I kiss him lightly on the cheek. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.”
With a nod, he heads out. Within seconds, the rumble of the engine can be heard as he rides away leaving me with Izzy and her eccentric hairdresser.