Chapter 6

Dart

After chasing the girl off last night, I’d gone to the bar and drank more than I normally do, with the predictable result that this morning that I’ve woken with a headache which feels like someone’s banging a drum in my head. Twisting my torso around, I grab my phone to see it’s already noon. Fuck. I hadn’t meant to sleep in so late, not with that money burning a hole in my pocket. What if Alex thinks she isn’t going to be given the money she’s earned? And she’d taken a fair amount in tips, a couple of hundred dollars by the feel of that wad. I need to give it back to her as soon as possible. If she thinks I’ve taken it, she may have second thoughts about turning up to dance tonight.

I’ll call her. I don’t have her number. Fuck. Still holding my phone, I tap it against my mouth and then do place a call. Within seconds I’ve got her address. Now I’ve just got to drag my lazy ass out of bed.

A quick run through the shower, a couple of Advil and a coffee, and I’m ready to go. Not being the only one to have over-partied last night, there’s hardly anyone around as I make my way to the gate. Hyde slides it open, and I drive on through, onto the freeway, and make my way through the city and to the suburbs where her sister lives.

Drawing up outside, I notice it’s a pleasant enough brick home, probably only a two-bed looking from the outside, the front yard well maintained and welcoming. I park in the driveway and make my way to the front door. As I raise my hand to knock, the door swings open.

“Like your bike, mister.” A high-pitched voice greets me.

I knew I’d have to look down, but I have to lower my gaze even further and eventually meet an eager face looking up. It’s a young boy, five, possibly six at most. And my first thought is, fuck, he’s got something to learn about opening doors to strangers.

He must be the sister’s kid.

“Hi,” I start, softening my voice. “I’ve come to see Alex, is she home?”

“Yeah, Mom’s in the shower. Is that a Harley?”

Fuck! She’s got a kid?

“Is your…” I quickly work it out in my head, having to swiftly change the roles I’d assumed, “aunt home?”

“Nah, Auntie Celine and Uncle Craig have gone out to the mall.”

And this young boy is opening the door while his mom’s naked with water running over those breasts… Fuck man! Don’t go there.

Then it gets worse. “Do you want to come in and wait. She won’t be long.”

“Um, yer mom ever spoken to you about opening the door to someone you don’t know?”

The boy’s eyes widen, and it must have been the tone of my voice as he asks, “Have I done something wrong?” His lower lip trembles.

Luckily I’m saved when, fuck me, Alex appears, dressed only with a towel around her. “You okay, Tyler?” she asks as she continues drying her hair, and only when she’s checked he’s alright, notices at last that the front door is open.

Her eyes and mine meet at the same time. Hers widen as mine narrow. Fuck, I saw her almost naked yesterday, but there’s something about knowing she’s completely unclothed beneath that barely ample covering, with water drops glistening on her dark skin, that makes me feel very uncomfortable. She opens her mouth, I get in first and say the first thing that comes into my head just to get my mind off her body.

“Tyler and I were just getting acquainted.”

“Tyler!” she snaps. “What have I told you about opening the door?”

Her son turns and shuffles his feet. “I know, Mom. You told me not to open the door without asking you first.” Then he adds in an excited voice by way of explanation, “But he’s got a motorcycle.”

I swallow a laugh as Alex tries to keep her face stern. She fails, and steps forward, affectionately ruffling the boy’s hair. “That makes it alright then, does it?”

He leans in close. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Just don’t do it again. No matter what. Not without asking me or your uncle or aunt.”

When the boy nods to agree, she seems to remember I’m here, and now it’s hesitation on her face. “Why are you here, Dart? Don’t tell me you’re firing me.”

“Firin’ you? Hell no. You did great last night.”

She offers a hesitant smile and laughs awkwardly. “Oh, well, I’m glad.”

I continue, “In fact, you made decent tips. You left last night before I came lookin’ for ya and I wasn’t able to give you your money, so I brought it today. Didn’t want you to think I’d pocketed it myself.” Reaching into my cut, I pull out the wad of notes and hold it out to her. She takes it awkwardly, struggling to keep hold of her towel, and for a second, looking at a loss where to put it.

In the end, she offers it to the kid. “Can you go put this in my purse, Tyler?”

The boy’s looking from her, and then to me. He seems reluctant to leave.

I suss out the reason. “Go do what your mom says, Ty, and then I’ll show you my bike, if your mom agrees.”

As he turns and runs off, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a kid looking so happy before. I raise my eyebrow at Alex, waiting to know if there’s any objection. She peers around me out the door, seeing my bike parked close by.

“Look, why don’t you go and dress while I show Tyler my sled. I won’t be takin’ him anywhere. And then we ought to talk.” Her ex might not be trying to find her. But what man lets his kid go? There’s pricking at the back of my neck, which suggests there could be trouble on the horizon.

Looking puzzled, she considers and then gives a little nod. “I’ll only be a moment. Watch him carefully, won’t you?”

For some inexplicable reason, the thought she’s trusting me with her son gives me a warm feeling inside. As she disappears, Tyler comes back, almost jumping up and down in excitement.

“Is it a Harley? I’m right, aren’t I? How fast does it go?”

By the time Alex reappears, Tyler knows almost as much as I do about my bike, including that it’s been modified to have a chain drive instead of a belt to make it go faster. I’m almost out of things to say, and explaining that I can’t take him for a ride, when Alex comes out of the door wearing form-fitting jeans and another of her tank tops, which clings to her tits. Man, that ass! And her breasts must be three times those of the girl I was with last night. And I bet I wouldn’t be able to feel her ribs. I could slide my cock between those tits…

“Come on, Tyler. Let’s see what we can put on for you to watch. You mustn’t wear yourself out now.”

He’s being a normal kid. Full of energy. Wondering whether she’s an overprotective mother, uninvited, I follow her inside. She fiddles about with the TV, puts on a cartoon, and then points towards the kitchen. Leaving Tyler to amuse himself, I follow her, then lean back against the cabinets. She fidgets as though she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, and looks down at her feet.

“Er, Dart. Thank you for bringing the money, but you didn’t have to. You could have given it to me tonight.”

“No problem. The ride cleared my head.” I nod toward the pot on the worktop. “Could do with a coffee, doll.”

She seems flustered as she goes about refilling the pot and then pouring a cup for both me and herself.

I wait until I’ve taken a sip before starting in. “So, Tyler.” As she lifts her eyebrows, I explain my concern. “He seems a good kid,” I say, partly to settle her, and partly because it’s the truth. I’ve not been around many children, three-year-old Amy’s about the closest I’ve come, but from what I’ve seen, Tyler’s polite and well brought up, and any man would be proud to call him his son. Which is the point that brings me to ask, “I can understand if you don’t think your ex is comin’ for you. But what about him?”

As she brings her hands to cup either side of her face, I read in her expression that concerns her as well. “That’s why I don’t want him to find us.” When she looks up, her eyes brim with tears. “Before he raised his hand to me, he was getting impatient with Tyler. I couldn’t risk him taking it further.”

I grit my teeth, having a particular hatred for anyone picking on someone weaker than themselves.

“He didn’t like all the questions he keeps asking. He’s an inquisitive kid.”

I didn’t mind at all. Liked someone showing an interest in fact.

“Give me your phone.” I make a decision.

“What? Why?”

“So I can give you my number. You get a sniff that he’s around, and you call me.”

“I haven’t got a phone. One of the things I left behind and couldn’t afford to replace.”

I begin to think there’s more she isn’t telling me. She left quickly, that’s for sure. What woman leaves her phone behind? There’s a story I’m yet to hear, and one way or another I’m going to get it out of her. Wouldn’t look good for the club if her ex turned up making trouble. Of course, that’s all I’m worried about.

Suddenly there’s a scream from the family room. Coffee sloshes from her cup as Alex put it down fast and rushes to her son. I follow. Tyler’s rolling on the sofa, gripping his leg.

“Where’s the pain, baby?” Alex looks frantic. When Tyler points to his calf, she starts massaging the muscle. The boy’s crying now, tears rolling down his face. I may have only just met him, but his distress is so real it gets me in the gut. Looking around the room, I don’t understand what’s happening. There doesn’t seem anyway that he could have hurt himself. Is it just cramp?

His pain appears genuine and severe, I’m driven to help. “What can I do?”

It’s as though she’s forgotten I’m there, but at my question she turns and nods down the hallway. “Could you run a hot bath?”

“Sure.”

Not really certain why she’s asking, I do as she asks, easily finding the small room I’m looking for. When I return, she’s giving him a tablet and making sure he drinks a whole glass of juice. Then I follow as she takes him into the bathroom and helps him undress. Still hovering, feeling useless in the doorway, she strips off his clothes and, after testing the temperature, puts him in the warm water.

I continue to watch as she gently strokes his head, her action mesmerising. “Breathe, baby. Deep breaths, in and out. That’s it. I know it’s hard, but try to relax.”

As she slows her breathing, the boy begins to copy her, and I find myself doing the same. Gradually he begins to stretch out in the warm water. It’s a while later when he looks up at Alex. “It’s getting better, Mom.”

Alex closes her eyes, and I see, more than hear, her sigh of relief. It’s as if she doesn’t want to show her own stress to her son.

“Feeling tired, baby? Want to take a nap.”

Obviously somewhat better now, the boy nods his head. Whatever has happened, it’s taken it out of him. I have no place here, but am strangely reluctant to leave. I wait while she dries and dresses him, and then while she lays him down. She’s back surprisingly quickly, but I notice she’s left the door to the boy’s bedroom open.

She startles, as if surprised I’m still here, and I notice she looks exhausted herself as she explains, “These episodes take it out of him.”

I remember the instruction I’d thought was superfluous, that now gives me a twinge of guilt. “He was running around when I was showing him my bike. Was it…?”

“It was nothing you did.” She inhales, and then lets the air out again, and her shoulders slump. She points to the sofa, and as I sit, starts to speak. “I suppose you’re curious.”

I can’t deny it. Throwing a nod towards the open door I can see, I ask, “What’s wrong with him?”

She takes a deep breath before telling me, “He should never have been born.”

It was the last thing I expected her to say. I pull myself up, but her hand on my arm stays my movement. And I thought she was a good momma. Does she resent the kid?

Before I can say anything, she gives me the explanation. “I’m a carrier for sickle cell disease. Ron, that’s my ex, told me he wasn’t, and I just believed him. Had I known… And anyway, that was in the future. I was going to finish my degree and qualify as a lawyer, and hopefully get established before thinking about having kids. Huh, those were my plans for my future.” She breaks off and stares at nothing, as if considering how her life might have turned out. And then continues, “But Ron had other ideas after we were married. One night we were having sex and he took off the condom without me knowing and without my consent.”

I suck in air. To my mind that’s as bad as rape, even if they were married. But looking at her face, the worst was yet to come.

“I got pregnant. But my baby was going to be healthy. If just one of us is a carrier, there wouldn’t be a problem. Ron said the tests were too expensive and unnecessary. But I, I had them done anyway. Even before Tyler was born…” Her voice breaks off as she chokes on the words. “I knew he was positive for sickle cell. I might have not wanted a baby at that time, and certainly wouldn’t have taken the risk if I’d known, but by then I couldn’t think of getting an abortion, even though my poor baby had already been condemned to a lifetime of hell.”

My teeth clench. “Ron was mistaken? He hadn’t been tested?”

“Oh, he knew alright. He knew there was a twenty-five percent chance of our child getting the condition. He was just blasé that we’d win those odds. He thought the risk was insignificant as neither him nor his sister had developed the disease. He played with my son’s life.”

“Jesus!” I stand, brushing my hands over my head. “Fuck, woman. Is the man fuckin’ insane? And you stayed with him?”

I can hardly keep up as the words tumble out. “I didn’t have much choice. I had a baby to look after. My parents told me they wouldn’t help if I walked out of the marriage, and at that point I’d lost touch with my sister. But that’s when I started to hate him. Oh, to anyone else he played the part of a devoted husband and father, but he had a child who was broken, and he couldn’t handle it. He came home later and later—sometimes not at all—and would start arguments. Celine made contact, and I told her everything. She offered me a place to get away if I ever needed it. But I stuck it out as long as I could, too nervous about striking out on my own. Then came the final straw. He took his hand to me, and I knew I had to leave. Staying was no longer an option, so, well, as you can see, I came here.”

I hope he does come to find her. I’ll kill him.

“You regret having Tyler?”

Her sharp look tells me all I need to know. “I could never regret that. But I would never have had children with another carrier if I had known. What Tyler’s going through? You saw his pain just now. No child should have to suffer like that.”

She’s silently weeping now, tears falling down her face, but she’s making no noise. I’ve never seen a woman cry this way before, it seems she just can’t help it. I take a seat beside her again, and it feels natural to pull her into my body. “What’s his prognosis?”

She starts talking as if quoting from a book. “People with sickle cell disease have a shortened life expectancy, but they’re coming up with new things all the time. And not everyone has painful episodes like the one you just witnessed.”

“He get these a lot?” Poor fucking kid.

“Too many.” A sob escapes. “The doctors want to try out a drug to limit the frequency, but I’ve found out all about it, and it might be dangerous at his age and have serious side effects. If he takes it, he’ll need biweekly blood tests for the first year to check he’s not having adverse reactions. They’re even talking about regular blood transfusions if it keeps getting worse. And it costs money, Dart. Money I haven’t got.” She half-turns to look at me, but it’s through her eyelashes, and she swallows a couple of times as if she’s guilty of something. “Ron gets insurance through his job…” She breaks off, stares at the floor, and mumbles, “But now he’s getting worse…”

“That’s why you haven’t started divorce proceedings. To stay on his insurance.”

“No. In fact, if I get a divorce I might be able to get Tyler’s additional needs taken into account as part of the child support.”

Something is niggling at me. I test out the waters. “If you’ve nothing to lose, file for divorce, doll.” I hate the thought of her being tied to that motherfucker.

My arm still around her, I can feel her go tense. “I told you he hit me. That sounds like nothing, doesn’t it?” Her hand goes to her cheek and traces the scar I’d noticed. “He knocked me out, then left me bleeding on the floor. He didn’t care if I was alive or dead. When I came around I managed to call for an ambulance. They kept me in as I was in quite a bad way. I needed stitches and had a concussion.”

She breaks off, as if there’s something else that she should be saying, but I don’t push. After swearing under my breath, I keep my voice fairly calm as I ask instead, “What caused the argument?”

“The same thing that caused all the others before it, only those were just verbal. That both Tyler and I were a waste of space. And that he’d be better off without us.” She grabs hold of my hand, and I can feel her shaking. “I thought he was going to kill me, Dart. I think he thought he had. And he’d have passed it off as an accident, I slipped and fell. There was a bottle of oil lying spilt on the floor when I regained consciousness. It hadn’t been there before.”

There it is, the real reason she ran. She was afraid for her life. And from what she’s told me, she had good reason. Just who is this man who’d leave his wife quite possibly dying, and set it up so it looked like her own misfortune? What am I dealing with here? “Doll, what does Ron do for work?”

“He’s a detective.”

Shit. She’s tried to keep under the radar, but from his job I’d bet good money he knows exactly where she is. Why hasn’t he come for her? One answer is that if she’s too scared to go through with a divorce, he won’t have to pay support. The other thought I can’t now get out of my mind is that if she’s right and he really does want her out of his way, he could be biding his time. If I, we, the club, give her our protection, what possible blowback could come down on us?

Parking that thought, I get back to the subject of her son. I don’t know anything about this disease he’s got. “Is there no cure for what Tyler’s got?”

“For Tyler, maybe.” Her words take me by surprise, I didn’t expect that. She’s still trembling, my arm holding her tightens. “Sickle cell carriers seem to have a higher incidence of carrying twins. And that certainly happened to me.” She takes a gulp of air., As there doesn’t seem to be another child around, I have a gut feel how this story is going to end. “They’re usually identical, but in my case, they weren’t. And oh yes, I won the lottery with my babies. As well as discovering Tyler had sickle cell, they discovered his twin, a girl, had anencephaly, a rare condition that stops brain and skull development. She was likely to be born dead, or only live a short while. I couldn’t abort her, as I could risk losing Tyler, so I carried them both to term. They were born early, at thirty-four weeks. Tyler seemed healthy, we knew she was going to die.”

I’m a tough biker, but there’s moisture in my eyes at her story. Fuck! She’s one hell of a strong woman to be able to cope with all this.

She resumes without prompting, “I’d already had so many discussions with the doctors by the time she was born, and they tested her immediately. She didn’t have sickle cell, and being a twin, there was a twenty-five percent chance she’d be a match as a tissue donor for Tyler, should he need a transplant in the future. She only lived an hour, but they harvested stem cells from the umbilical cord and were able to confirm she was a match.”

This is all alien territory for me. A cure? So why hasn’t she already gone for it? “What happened to the stem cells…?”

“They were frozen. The idea was if Tyler’s condition worsened we could try a bone marrow transplant using the cells. If it works, that will cure him.”

It sounds simple. Easy. But if it was, I wouldn’t have seen that boy suffering. “Why didn’t he have the procedure?”

“Money.” She breathes. “Sickle cell manifests in different forms. By the time we knew how much his disease was affecting him, we found that we weren’t covered for a stem cell transplant. The insurance company won’t pay, as it’s too expensive. They want us to go with the alternative and cheaper treatments. But they’re not a cure, just something to keep it under control.”

“If you need to pay out for this procedure, we’re possibly talking tens of thousands here, aren’t we?” I say the cold statement, not having a clue how I could help. Her nod, followed by a few more tears, tells me I’m right.

“At least half a million, possibly double that.”

Shit. That’s more than I thought. “And without the transplant, there’s no other cure?”

She shakes her head. “It’s the only chance he’s got, and even that might not work. His red blood cells are shaped like a sickle, that’s what gives the disease its name. They can get stuck as they pass through his veins. The idea of the transplant is to encourage his body to produce properly shaped cells.”

I’m processing that when she adds, “Time’s against us. And it could already be too late. I’ve looked into it. Though I’ve read some research that suggests frozen stem cells are good for up to fifteen years, doctors don’t normally use them after five. Tyler’s six.” She waves her hand toward the bedroom her son is currently asleep in. “Blood transfusions could help him, reduce his episodes, but if we resort to that, the chances of the transplant being successful drastically diminish. And if he experiences organ failure, then it will be too late.” She nods her head toward the short hallway. “That episode today, the cell must have got trapped in his leg. Many sufferers get heart attacks…”

I can fill in the gaps for myself. Fuck, that child I was so impressed by is a fucking time bomb. And it sounds like she’s got a long list of impossible decisions to make. Amazed at how strong she is, how she’s holding herself together, all I can think is, poor kid, poor mother. I want to help, but I have no fucking idea how.