Bad Boy's Baby: Wicked Angels MC (12 page)

“Tristan?” I called his name softly and rapped my knuckles on the kitchen door frame. Tristan looked up at me with a lazy grin on his face. His skin was flushed and there was a bottle of beer in his hand. The table was covered with empty bottles and the thick miasma of cigarette smoke hung in the air. I stifled the urge to stamp my foot. I couldn’t believe he could throw me out of bed and then just go drink with his buddy like nothing had happened!
Breathe
, I told myself.
Stay calm. This is a big deal, maybe wait until he’s sober. He’s probably not going to understand right now
.

“Yeah?” Tristan gave me a cocky grin. He winked at me and I felt my insides slither and slosh around in my body. “Can I help you, Jenny?”

I flushed deep red all over. This wasn’t going like I’d imagined, not at all. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” Tristan said. He winked at me again and stretched out, sprawling out in his chair like a wild grizzly bear of a man. “What can I do for you?” The other biker, Rod, turned his face to me and smiled. He didn’t move, and I felt a wave of irritation fly through my body.

“Alone?” I pointed towards the door. “Do you mind?”

“Oh, sorry, ma’am,” Rod said.

I blushed when he called me ‘ma’am,’ and I almost corrected him, but I didn’t want to come off as even more of a fussy old lady.

“It’s fine,” Tristan said. He turned his lazy grin towards Rod. “Whatever Jenny has to say, she can say it in front of you.”

I blinked. “No, I can’t,” I said sharply. “Please, Rod. Just give us five minutes.”

Rod looked embarrassed as he got to his feet and shuffled out of the room. I sat down at the table and the beer bottles rattled and shook.

“So,” Tristan said. He folded his hands on top of the table and stared at me. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Our son,” I said softly. “And our life. And our future.”

Tristan shook his head. “You’re bringing that shit up again?” He didn’t wait for me to answer before continuing, “You know I don’t have anything to say about that, Jenny. That was a long time ago and done now. Past is past, you know.”

“I don’t know,” I said in the same soft voice. Frustration welled up in me and I blinked back tears, stamping my foot on the clean linoleum floor. “You’re not listening to me, Tristan. I’m sorry about everything, but I want to move past that. You have a family now. You’re a father.”

Tristan stood up before I could protest. He stretched up and I averted my eyes away from his taut, muscular torso. “This ain’t no good to talk about right now,” he said. “You get that, Jenny? We can’t talk about this right now.”

“Well, when can we?” I whirled around in my chair and stared him down, my eyes blazing in their sockets. “I’m sick of you brushing me off!”

Tristan blinked. He shook his head. “Jenny, this isn’t gonna work,” he said softly. For a moment, it sounded like all the cockiness and all the fight had gone out of him. “We’re gonna have to deal with this later.”

Before I could argue, he left the room. I heard him and Rod talking in hushed tones in the other room. I couldn’t even feel ashamed thinking about Rod hearing us—I didn’t even care. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest all over again, just like before. Everything would be just like before, Tristan would leave and I’d never see him again. Anger and sadness welled up in me and I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t start crying. Why? Why did he need so much time? Couldn’t he see that I meant it, that I loved him? That I’d never wanted to let him go?

I stared at the whorls on the wooden table. It was roughly hewn and unvarnished, but with a smooth sheen. If I hadn’t known better, I’d think that Tristan had carved it himself. I ran my hands over the soft wood and closed my eyes. I couldn’t be alone again, there was no way that would happen. I remembered how I’d felt while pregnant: alienated, alone, too giant for a world that didn’t want me. Just like my body was changing, so was my status in the world. I went from someone who could buy the entire inventory of a shop in ten minutes to someone who was scrounging for pennies to buy food off the dollar menu at McDonald’s. Shame had a distinct taste, like soap. I never wanted to taste it again. I never wanted to wake up with my stomach feeling as empty as a squeezed-out tube of toothpaste. I never wanted Phin to cry because he wanted more milk and all I could afford was water.

I couldn’t stand another year of sitting in my car and crying at that spot just outside of town. It would kill me; I’d die of loneliness. I didn’t ever want to have to explain to Phin just who Tristan was…and why he wasn’t around. It would hurt him so much. It wasn’t just me who I had to think about now, there was Phin, too. If I made another mistake like the first one, he could be miserable and unhappy for the rest of his life.

On bad days, one of the only things that kept me going was my son. If he were to cut off contact with me as an adult because I hadn’t raised him with a father, it would break my heart. Then I really wouldn’t have a reason to live. I thought about myself, old and alone in some state-sponsored nursing home. I’d be covered in spittle and drool and lumpy blankets the color of old gym socks. Phin wouldn’t come visit, no one would. Because I’d have no family, and it would all be my fault.

I set my lips in a thin line and prayed for Tristan to come to his senses.
I need you now
, I thought.
More than ever before. Don’t you see that?

Tristan

That night, I could barely sleep. I kept thinking of Jenny and wondering if she was turning and twisting in her bed the same way I was in mine. It was torture knowing that she was only a few rooms away. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to act, knowing she was so close but so far? I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was my fault. But whenever I started feeling sorry for her, some of the anger came back. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe her now when she said things like she wanted to be with me forever, or that she loved me. It was that I was worried. She had said those same things, many times, and then she’d left. I hadn’t ever heard from her again. She didn’t even have the consideration to break up with me to my face.

It had all started the morning after Jenny’s eighteenth birthday.

“Tristan,” my mother barked from the kitchen. As usual, she was perched on a stool with a cigarette dangling from her hand, her fingers stained yellow with nicotine at the tips. “Where the hell have you been?”

I ran a hand through my hair and looked at the floor. I had a bad feeling, ever since I’d woken up. After I’d dropped Jenny off at home, I’d driven around for hours. Even though we’d parted on terms like that before, there was something in the air that had felt final. I couldn’t believe the look her father had given me. It wasn’t quite one of conquest, but more like one of…pity. I hadn’t quite understood last night, but now an inkling of something darker was forming in my brain. Somehow, he must have felt for me. But why? What was going on?

“I’ve been home,” I said flatly. “Didn’t you hear me? I got in around five in the morning.” It was true. After I’d almost run out of gas, I ambled home and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I saw Jenny’s face in every whorl of plaster, every chipped bit of surface in my room. The hold Jenny had on me scared me. It was enough to make me change my life, change everything I’d ever done.

Mom looked at me with a blank expression on her pasty, doughy face. “Whatever you say, boy,” she said, blowing a plume of smoke at the ceiling. I was a few feet away but I could smell the booze on her breath like she’d just finished drinking. I shuddered. Mom had tried when I’d been a little kid, but not anymore. She’d about given up. I wondered if things would be different if my dad had been around, but probably not. Mom wasn’t the kind of person who could stand up to various stressors. She just didn’t have it in her. She couldn’t hold down a job for more than a month at a time, and she buckled under the slightest pressure. I felt bad sometimes, like it was my fault. But looking into Mom’s dead eyes, I could barely see the person behind the muddy-colored irises. She was like a shell, a husk of the woman she’d once been.

“I’m going out,” I told her. Even if she tried to stop me, it wouldn’t work. Just as I expected, when I got to the door, I heard her weak cries of protest. “Mom, this is important,” I said, my hand on the knob as I turned around to face her. “I have to do something, just for me this time.”

“Everything you do is for you,” she replied, catching me off-guard. “You men are so selfish; you don’t even think about how much we suffer for you.”

When she was drinking, Mom was prone to these bouts of “wisdom.” But much like the look Jenny’s father had given me last night, there was something different, something unsettling about her words this time.

“If you picked now to start lecturing me, this isn’t the best time,” I told her. “I’ll be back later.”

This time, Mom was silent. She stared at me with glassy eyes and kept her dry lips closed. The silence in the room was palpable, awkward. Finally, I shrugged it off and walked outside. The day was clear, chillier than I’d expected. The sunlight was harsh against my face. I’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep. I knew that I had to get to Jenny, I had to hear her reassurance. I had to make sure things would be okay. Even if this summer was rough, I’d be with her in the fall. I was already planning to move to her college town and surprise her with a ring at Christmas. I even had one picked out—it was yellow gold, with a small round diamond. On the inside of the band I had a four-leaf clover stamped into the gold, to match the pendant I’d given her. She didn’t know yet, at least I didn’t think she suspected. I was dying to give it to her now, but I knew I had to wait until she was at least a little bit out of her parents’ clutches.

The drive to Jenny’s house was torturous and long. Traffic was slow and I beat my fist against the steering wheel, more conscious than ever of my ripped shirt and grease-stained pants. It occurred to me too late that I should have changed, or even stopped to buy some new clothes on the way.

“Why are you so nervous?” My voice sounded hoarse, boyish, aloud in the car. I looked at myself in the rearview mirror—my eyes were wide, scared. There was perspiration on my forehead and I could see that I was shaking. As I shifted in my seat, a gust of sweaty odor came up to meet me. I cracked a grin. At least I was still cocky as ever: going to win my high-class girlfriend when I looked like shit. Jenny knew that I didn’t care about impressing her, but sometimes I still felt like I should try. After all, I was the luckiest guy in the world. I had the hottest girl I’d ever seen. So what if we’d had a bad night? We still loved each other just as much as ever. Right?

My nerves were jangling as I pulled into Jenny’s parents’ driveway. The gate was closed and I parked, hopping out of my car and pacing around. Her window was closed—unusual for Jenny; I knew she loved the chill air as much as I did. I wondered if she’d be happy that I’d shown up. Today was my first chance to make things right with her folks, and damned if I wasn’t going to give it a shot.

The property was eerily silent. I could see one of Jenny’s father’s cars, an Aston Martin, parked carelessly in the driveway. There was a scuff on the driver’s side door and I shivered. Whoever had done that was definitely going to get his wrath. Suddenly, I laughed out loud. I realized no one had scratched his car, it had to have been him. And he didn’t care, because he was so rich he could just go out and buy another one. Things, possessions must not have mattered to him the way they mattered to others. I shook my head. These people were nuts, but I loved their daughter. I had to get in right with them.

“Hello?” I called out as I pressed the button on the gate. There was no answer. After a minute, I heard the crackle of static over the intercom.

“Who is it?” The voice that answered me was unfamiliar. “Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, clearing my throat. “Is Jenny home? I was hoping I could talk to her.”

The crackling stopped and there was silence. No reply. I pressed the buzzer another couple of times. No reply. Finally, I mashed my thumb down on the button and held it. A little part of me, somewhere in the back of my brain, was insisting that this was a horrible idea. But now I was starting to get mad. Why wouldn’t they fucking acknowledge me? Why couldn’t they even give me a straight answer? It was like they didn’t even think I deserved one.

“Sir, I’ll be out in a moment,” the reply came. I wasn’t expecting the harsh sound and I jumped.

“Okay, fine,” I said, stepping back from the gate and lazily swinging my feet around in the air. “Fine. Come talk to me.”

The minutes that followed were some of the slowest I’d ever endured in my whole life. I kept craning my neck and looking up at Jenny’s window. All of the nights she’d snuck out, all of the nights I’d called her by throwing change at the glass. There probably had to be ten dollars in nickels under her window by now. The majority of our courtship had been silent, quiet, furtive. Well, not anymore. I was determined to love my woman openly. I was determined to try to win over her parents. If they rejected me after all of this, fine. They could do that. But I at least wanted to try, to try to show I was the bigger person. After all, we couldn’t be so different. We both loved Jenny. Even if that was the only thing I’d ever have in common with her parents, I didn’t mind.

Finally, I heard the front door open and close. I couldn’t see who was walking outside, but I heard heavy footsteps. They were booming too loudly to be Jenny’s father—even though he was a tall man, he was on the slender side. His intimidation came from his wealth, not from his size. His sense of self-importance was very clearly derived from his ability to buy the world and his confidence in that. I couldn’t see him in a fight, no matter how rough things became.

My mouth went dry as the gate opened. There was an enormous man standing in front of me. He was wearing a dark grey suit and wraparound sunglasses.

“Hello,” the man said. “How may I assist you?”

“I’m here to see Jenny,” I said, standing straight and tall. “We didn’t have plans, but she’ll want to see me.”

The man smiled and I felt a twinge of anger rush through me. Why wasn’t he talking? What the fuck was going on?

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” the man told me. I could see the faintest trace of a smirk on his fat lips. “Jennifer isn’t available right now.”

“I know she’s home,” I replied hotly. The man didn’t reply and I realized that he hadn’t said she wasn’t home, just unavailable. I frowned. “I need to see her,” I said. “I need to apologize.”

The man stepped closer and I felt a wave of menace emanating from his gigantic frame. “That won’t be possible,” he said curtly. “And besides, whatever could you have to apologize for? You don’t look like someone who associates with the Fosters.”

“Jenny Foster has been my girlfriend for almost a year,” I protested. “She loves me. Come on, dude, I know you don’t know me, but trust me! I love her! I just need to make sure she’s okay.”

The man looked at me over the tops of his sunglasses. “And why wouldn’t she be?” He smirked. “Did you do something to her?”

“No, god!” I yelped. My voice came out in a strangled cry. “No, I didn’t hurt her! I’d never hurt her! I love her!”

“I think it’s best if you leave,” the man said. He made a fist with one hand and tapped his other open palm with it. “You have no business here. I’ll be forced to call the police if you don’t leave the property immediately.”

I ran a hand through my hair. My heart was beating like a drum in my chest and my throat was getting tighter by the moment. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I’d never felt so scared in my life—it seemed like all of my paranoia and anxiety last night had come to fruition. Damn! Why hadn’t I snuck out and tried to phone her? I made up my mind that I was going to do that as soon as I had the chance. After all, Jenny was eighteen. She was an adult now. Her parents didn’t have to dictate her life; she was a free woman, grown up and ready to make her own choices.

“Fine,” I snapped. “I’m going. Happy now?”

The man shook his head. Confusion rose in me as he stepped closer. When he reached inside of his jacket and slipped his hand into a pocket, I ducked, thinking that he was going to emerge with a gun. The asshole had the nerve to laugh at my reaction, but it wasn’t a gun that he brought out. It was an envelope.

“This is for you, sir,” the man said with a touch of irony. “Why don’t you take a look at it now?”

Thinking that it might be a letter from Jenny, I reached out and grabbed the envelope from his proffered hand. But it was too fat to contain a letter, and when I peeled back the flap I saw stacks and stacks of green inside.

“Money?” I said in disgust. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Foster are very serious about this,” the man said. He smirked at me again. I thrust the envelope back into his hands but he didn’t take it, and the paper fell to the ground. Various bills of different value fell out and scattered all over the fresh coat of asphalt on the driveway. I barely glanced down. The guy took another menacing step towards me and I balled my hands into fists at my sides, ready for the attack. He swung first and I ducked, landing a solid punch at his side. Even though he had looked bulky from a distance, I’d seriously misjudged his girth. There wasn’t an inch of fat on this man’s body, and his solid muscle prevented my punch from really hitting home. Pain reverberated through my body and I yanked my arm back just as he swung back and cracked me right on the jaw. Bright lights exploded in front of my eyes and I staggered backwards, blinking and rubbing the side of my face.

“I think you’d better leave now,” the man said. He wasn’t even panting or breathing hard. “Unless you want to get the authorities involved.”

“Jenny!” I screamed as loudly as I could. It stung my throat and the man was rushing at me again just as I ducked around the side of my car. “Jenny! It’s me! Tristan! Come outside! What the fuck is going on?”