Chapter Ten
Pru
I follow behind Hack to Trenton, singing along with Merle Haggard the entire way. My voice sounds shrill to my ears as I put more enthusiasm than I feel into the lyrics, but I have to sing. It’s either lose myself in the music or go crazy thinking about everything that has happened today. By the time we pull through a large gate connected to a chain link fence, my throat feels a bit raw.
Inside the fence, the place looks like a junk yard. There is a huge two-story building, built from cinder blocks that have been painted an ugly shade of industrial grey. At least fifty motorcycles sit parked in front of it. The building has double doors in the front, covered with peeling red paint, and a few windows that are full of spider web like cracks. Attached to the side is a huge garage with three bay doors.
Guys are inside of the bays, working on both cars and bikes. Each one of them are wearing the same leather vests that Hack and the guys he brought to the house are wearing. I’ve watched enough episodes of Sons of Anarchy to know that means they are all members of the same biker club, and being with them means Scarlett is now safe.
Looking away from the men working, I see row after row of wrecked cars sitting behind the building. To the left, there are piled up car parts sitting on tarps. From the distance, I can make out hoods, doors, tires, and rims. There is even a tarp covered in random parts that I assume are needed to make a car go.
To the right of the building, I notice a ton of picnic tables and random lawn chairs. Right at the center is a huge fire pit, surrounded by the same plastic chairs that sit on everyone’s back porches. Surprisingly, a child’s big wooden fort sits at the back of the picnic tables. It’s every kid’s dream, with swings, a slide, and a climbing wall. Where everything else I’ve seen looks like they’ve seen better days, the fort appears to be brand new.
I pull in beside Hack’s bike and watch while the other two bikers glide their bikes to a stop on the other side of my car. My fingers have been squeezing the steering wheel so long that it takes some effort to pull them away and cut the engine. I’m just pulling out the key when Hack walks over and opens my door.
“Are you okay?” he asks, keeping one hand on the door and the other resting against the roof of the car.
I nod, searching him for bruises and letting out a relieved breath when I don’t see any. “I didn’t want to leave you, but Scarlett is in the car. Her safety had to come first.”
He leans his head down, bringing his face only inches from mine, never letting go of the door. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Those men that stopped you,” I tell him, unable to keep tears from pooling in my eyes. “I just left you with them. I was afraid of what they would do to you.”
Finally, understanding washes over his dark chocolate eyes. “I’m fine, baby.”
He lets go of the car and leans in to cup my cheeks, closing the gap between us. His lips meet mine in a sweet kiss. There’s no tongue, no wandering hands, nothing but a sweet touch of his lips against mine.
“You grab your purse, and I’ll get Scarlett and her bag,” he says against my mouth then pulls back. “A few of the prospects will unload the rest of y’all’s shit.”
Trying not to think about how good his lips felt, I toss my phone back into my purse and sling it over my shoulder. By the time I swing my feet out of the car, Hack has already grabbed Scarlett’s car seat and is grabbing her diaper bag.
Shutting my car door, I look to the clubhouse and back at Hack. “Are we staying the night here or going to your place?”
“I live here, Pru. Never saw the reason for a house when I could stay with my brothers,” he answers while shutting the door. “It’s better for you and Scarlett to be here anyway. No damn way anyone would fuck with you at the clubhouse.”
Unease fills me as I respond, “If that’s what you think is best.”
“When this shit is over, I’m gonna start looking for a house. The clubhouse is okay, but it’s no place to raise a kid,” he says with a nod, as if he just made that decision.
I nearly ask what he is talking about when it hits me. At some point in time, he is gonna want more time with Scarlett than just a few hours at my house. The thought makes me sad, because after only a month, I can’t imagine not sleeping under the same roof as her. But I don’t let that show. Instead, I paste on a smile and tell myself I’m glad my daughter’s father wants a real relationship with her.
After another nod, he turns and walks toward the double doors. I follow behind him, watching the way his ass moves with each step he takes. Looking him over from head to toe, I take in every rippling muscle. I feel liquid heat pool between my legs as the vision of him naked fills my mind. Shaking my head, I force my sex-deprived mind to focus on putting one foot in front of the other before I fall on my ass.
Listening to his boots crunch against the gravel, I remind myself once more that there is no longer a Hack and me. He left me behind and only came back for Scarlett. As much as that hurts, I’ve got to get over it. My father has never even seen me. At least, my daughter is getting something I never had: a daddy.
Hack pulls open one of the doors and steps to the side so I can walk in. When I do, the smell of weed and stale liquor hits my nose. Growing up with my mom how she is, the scent reminds me of being a little girl and is somewhat comforting. What’s not comforting is the sight of half-naked women walking around. More than one of them glares in my direction as Hack steps inside and places his hand on the small of my back.
Giving me a little shove, he says, “Let’s get you to your room. Scarlett’s starting to squirm, so I’m figuring she’s gonna be screaming the walls down soon.”
My feet start moving as I look down and see my daughter’s face scrunched up and starting to get red. Her eyes are still closed, but Hack’s right. She is about to wake up, and when she does, her lungs will be getting a workout.
He leads me down a shadowy hall then up a set of steps, turning to the first room on the second floor. I’m shocked as shit when I see a complete nursery. Well, that’s not quite true. It’s a nursery and a playroom mixed together. It’s the room of every child’s dream. It looks as out of place here as the fort did outside. I wonder why it’s here. There sure weren’t any playrooms on the episodes of Sons of Anarchy I watched.
“My brothers that were with me today, their children had to stay at the clubhouse for a while. The old ladies came together and fixed this place up so the kids would have something better than just a clubhouse room,” he states, answering my unasked question.
There is a dark wood baby bed in one corner, covered it pale peach bedding. A changing table filled with diapers and wipes and a bright white bassinet sit only a few feet away. In the corner, there is a shelf covered in snacks and toddler eating supplies. There are even a few bottles sitting haphazardly on the shelf.
The other side of the room holds a set of bunk beds, both covered in Harley Davidson comforters, and a toy box that is overflowing with toys. A large flat-screen TV hangs on the wall, with a cabinet holding a DVD player sitting underneath it. The floor is covered with fluffy blue carpet, with a racetrack rug sitting in the center of it.
My eyes follow Hack as he walks over to a door that I can only assume opens to the closet, and he swings it open. “Brew’s old lady said we needed a fridge and a microwave up here, but she didn’t want the kids to be able to get to them.”
“It’s nice,” I mumble, at a loss for anything better to say.
He steps back to give me a view of the inside. It’s a closet like I thought, but instead of clothes, it holds an apartment-sized fridge with a small microwave sitting on top of it. There are shelves above it filled with bottles of water and a few snacks that I’m sure are meant for the caregivers and not the kids.
“You can make her bottles and stuff here. Put the dirty ones in that container,” he explains, pointing at the top shelf where a square blue container sits. “One of the prospects will come up at night and take it down to be washed up. The clean shit will be back in the morning.”
Still surprised at this room and everything in it, I can manage nothing more than a one word response. “Okay.”
Hack shuts the door as Scarlett starts to whine. I reach out and take the seat from him, setting it on the floor, and pull her out before she can get too worked up. I hold her in one arm, holding my hand out for the bottle he just dug out of the diaper bag. By the time it reaches her lips, she has worked herself up to a good fit.
“Our room is next door. I’ll show it to you after I talk to my brothers,” he says, putting the diaper bag on the changing table and heading toward the door.
“Our room?” I stutter out, sure I didn’t hear him right.
He looks over his shoulder but doesn’t stop walking. “Our room. We’ll talk about it when I get back.”
Without further explanation, he walks out of the room. When I hear the sounds of his boots hitting the steps, I look down at Scarlett and ask, “What has your momma got herself into this time, darlin’?