Jules (Devil’s Rose MC #6)

Prologue

Jules

S hit, did I leave the TV on last night? Why the hell can I hear a baby crying? Rolling over gingerly, I check the time. Just after 2pm. Way too early for me to be up after last night’s activities. With the DRMC in a quiet patch, it seemed the perfect time for Fox, Nitro, and myself to play. With their female contacts and my membership to Vibe, Rose Grove’s sex club, we spent the evening drowning in pussy. It’s a fucking hedonistic feeling having my cock balls deep in a girl’s throat, my tongue in a pussy and my fingers buried deep in another. It’s no secret that I very quickly bonded with the MC brothers over our shared interest of voyeurism, group sex and sharing women, although Fox and Nitro seem to share a little more than that. Not that it’s any of my fucking business.

The incessant crying continues and I know I’ll have to turn that fucking TV off. I have to piss anyway so I may as well kill two birds with one stone. My muscles groan as I stretch, rolling out of bed and stumbling into the ensuite, doing my business and then groggily making my way to the open plan living room. Scrubbing my hands down my face, I do a double take when the crying gets louder and yet the TV screen is black. Swiveling, I tilt my head to pinpoint where the noise is coming from. Gus may live next door, but not once have I heard his kid cry this loud. Heading toward my front door the crying grows louder. I throw it open, confused when I’m met with Tav’s Littles and Wire’s kid on my front porch.

“What the fuck?”

“What the heck Unca Jules?” My gaze follows Jovie and Cove’s wide-eyed stares to a baby carseat perched on the wooden bench on my porch. A baby carseat complete with an angry infant yelling at us. One that isn’t my brother Gus’s baby.

“Whose fucking baby is that?” I glare at them. That’s all I can do at the moment.

“How should we know? They were here when we got here,” Cove loudly answers. The kid has no inside voice whatsoever. Elio just stares at me.

“Why are you here? Did my brother put you up to this?” I squint at them. I’m sure this is probably some bullshit prank of Tav’s. A fucking loud prank because this baby won’t shut up.

“Aunt Ana is babysitting us.” Jovie shrugs. “Anyways, whose baby is that? And why did you put them on the porch?” Her little face screws up in confusion.

“Are you referring to the baby as ‘them’?”

“Well, yeah. Do you know what kind of baby that is? If you don’t know what they are then they’re a they/them.” I stare at the 8 year old like she has two heads. What type of fuckery is this? From the conversation, all I can glean is that none of us knows where this baby came from .

“I can’t think. How do we make it stop crying?”

Jovie’s eyes drift back to the baby while Cove squints at me. “We’re kids. You’re the grown up. You should know. ”

“Yeah, but don’t you hang out with the babies at the clubhouse?” I prompt.

“The babies have mommies and daddies.” Elio says in his robot voice, gazing over my shoulder.

“Yeah, where’s the baby’s mommy, Unca Jules?” Jovie asks.

We all look at the baby in the car seat. It miraculously stops crying and gives us all the stink eye.

“Oh! They look just like you Unca Jules! You must be the daddy!” Cove claps and stomps her feet, the baby moving its focus to stink eye her.

“What are we looking at?” We spin around at the feminine voice behind us.

“Ana! Thank fuck!” I let out a breath, my shoulders relaxing.

“The baby we found on Unca Jules’ porch! They were crying lots and we don’t know where the mommy is but Unca Jules could be the daddy cos they both do that face thing,” Cove info dumps.

“What face thing?” I frown at the kids.

“They? Do you not know whether it’s a boy or a girl? Do you know where they came from?” Ana asks, ignoring my question.

“No, we only just found them.” Great now I’ve fucking caught it.

Ana pushes past me, scoops up the carseat and flicks her head at the kids to pick up the bag sitting next to it. She walks into my lounge, places the baby on the coffee table and starts unbuckling it.

“You check the baby bag for anything that helps tell us who the hell this baby is and where they came from. Oh, and someone pass me the baby wipes and a nappy.”

We stare at her until she rolls her eyes. “A diaper. Pass me a diaper.”

As soon as she lifts the kid from their seat a horrible stench permeates the air. Now, having to clean up my sisters’ messes I have a strong stomach but this, this is enough to take down the toughest of men.

“Hey bay- oh my god Jr not a-fucking-gain son! I just changed you!” Gus moans, coming through the door with my nephew, stopping abruptly. “Who’s fucking baby is that?” He looks around the room, bewildered. I know if he didn’t have Jr, or Junior, in his arms he’d be popping those fucking antacids like Tic Tacs. My brother doesn’t like surprises.

Ana waves something in the air, “Found the birth certificate and other paperwork. Her name is Juno, she’s three months old and you’re listed as the father Jules.” Ana coos at the baby, clean clothing on and the foul diaper nowhere to be seen. “Juno is a cute name, goes with the rest of the Tombs’ names.”

“Who’s the mother?” I manage to rasp out.

“Do you know a woman named Eloise Greenlake?” Gus asks, reading the birth certificate over Ana’s shoulder.

I wrack my brain but nothing is coming to me. I mean, I don’t date women, I don’t sleep one-on-one with them. Whoever this Eloise Greenlake is must be mistaken.

“She does look a lot like you Jules,” Ana says, turning the baby to look at us. She has whiskey colored eyes, much like my sister Tuesday’s, and a hell of a lot of black hair.

“I dunno. Jules is way too ugly to make a kid that cute.” I give Gus the dead eye, ignoring the fact that this kid looks almost identical to Jr at the same age.

I know I’m not the only one to notice, as Ana stares between the two of them. “Aw what a little sweetie,” she coos. It makes her feel some type of way because she gets all soft eyed.

Shaking myself off I know I have to get this baby out of my house. It can’t belong to me. I’m not built for kids or relationships or family outside of the ones I have. There is no room for anyone or anything else. I’m a selfish fucker and I can not and will not share my space. I list out in my head more reasons why I cannot be this kid’s father. I’m too busy. I have a dangerous job. I don’t have the time. I am somehow fucking not right on the inside. I don’t have the emotional intelligence to raise something or someone. My chest grows tight and my stomach clenches, but I ignore it. That’s panic rising but I can control that. My mind needs to rationalize what it needs to and once it does my body will follow suit. Moments pass as my body comes back into itself and I watch my family gently touch the baby’s face, hair, hands.

“I gotta get this kid to the MC. See Fox and Nitro. There’s a good chance it could be one of theirs.” I stomp to my room, throwing on clean clothes, socks and boots, only to return to a wide eyed Ana.

“Holy crap are you telling me that the mother is probably someone from one of your orgies? Oh my god!” Ana looks like she’s going to fucking keel over with glee and then she bursts into laughter so intense she has to hand the baby over to Gus as she collapses on the floor in a fit of giggles. Gus somehow manages to cradle both babies as he waits for his wife to calm down. The kids are obviously bored because they’ve fucked off to do whatever it was they were doing before they found this kid.

“Right, let’s load up, I need answers.” I stride to the door, press my key fob unlocking my SUV, and throw the door open, ready to get in when I hear a throat clearing.

“Ah, you gonna strap your kid in?” Gus asks, shit eating grin on his face.

“Nah, brother, why don’t you take them in your vehicle? You know how all that shit’s meant to work.” Slamming the door behind me I start the car, jolting when the back passenger door flies open.

“Your kid rides with you.” Gus somehow in 11 seconds flat has the seat locked in, the diaper bag beside it, and some fucking giant sunflower mirror thing pointing directly into my rear view meaning I get to see a baby stink eye everytime I check behind me. The kid and I stare at each other until the door flings open once again.

“I’m riding with you.” Gus says, looking straight ahead.

“What the fuck? Don’t you trust me? Gus, I’ve saved loads of mothers and children from shit situations. I’m sure I can drive a baby to the clubhouse.” I grumble.

He side eyes me, watching with his beady fucking eyes that look just like the baby in my rear view. “In these rescues have you once carried a child? Held a baby? No? Didn’t fucking think so. Just drive the car so we can get this ‘whos’ the daddy’ ruse over.”

“What? It - she - fuck, the baby, could belong to Fox or Nitro,” I say, pulling out of our drive onto the road heading toward the clubhouse.

Gus snorts, not even answering me. Dickhead.

I need this SUV to go faster. I have to get to the clubhouse, sort this shit out and find the baby’s real family. All while hoping against hope that the baby’s real family isn’t mine.

Skidding into the MC compound ignoring the almost naked blue man coming out of the clubhouse, I fling open my door and storm to the back passenger side. The baby glares up at me and I stare back, realizing I have no idea how the hell to get it out of here and into the clubhouse in the fucking hopes that Fox may be the daddy. Yeah, it must be his, he has that dark hair and shit.

“Fuck sake, move,” Gus’s fat elbow digs into my rib as he pushes past, presses something and releases the kid from my back seat before shoving it into my arms.

I fall into step behind him, walking through the clubhouse doors to the usual pandemonium.

“Why was that man blue?” Gus asks, before he’s shoved out of the way by his wife, Jr strapped to her chest.

“You bitches started the ‘Welcome Mira Strip Show’ without me!”

“Serves you right for being late. What the hell were you doing anyw- whose baby is that?” Blanche stops mid-sentence, spotting the baby carseat looped over my arm.

All eyes in the clubhouse turn toward me, silence descending over the nosy fuckers.

Clearing my throat, I address Fox and Nitro, “Does this belong to you?”

Fox’s brows fly up, almost disappearing into his black hairline. “Why the fuck would that belong to me?”

“Because it was left on my porch and I’m guessing,” my eyes dart toward the kids who are sitting on the couch in a row watching this go down, “Earmuffs kids,” they all put their hands over their ears, but watch with eager eyes. “It belongs to one of us because I don’t fuck with women solo. If you get my drift.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Tav, steps up, hands in the air. “Are you saying that someone left their kid on your porch thinking you’re the father but in actual fact that kid could belong to any one of you due to your extracurricular activities?” He turns, waving his finger between us. He stares for a beat and then collapses on the ground, pissing himself laughing. Much like Ana did.

While I wait for the laughter to subside, and Fox and Nitro to take this kid from me, Pops has made a beeline for the kid and has been staring at it, hands on knees, crouching, with a serious look on his face. He reaches out and gently turns the baby’s head, looking at god knows what.

“What did the mom look like?” Nitro asks, snapping out of his shock.

“Dunno. Her name was on the birth certificate, an Eloise Greenlake?”

“Lou? Shit. She left town a year ago, never heard from her. That’s probably why. She was growing your spawn,” Nitro chuckles.

“What the fuck makes you think it’s mine?” I growl.

“Besides the fact that it looks exactly like you?”

“Accept it. It’s yours,” Pops interrupts. “That’s a Tombs kid right there. See the ear? We all gotta pixie ear on the left side. Sorry kid, but you’re fucked.” Pops’ grin spreads wide across his face, Fox and Nitro breathing a sigh of relief and the clubhouse all making noises of congratulations.

I stare down at the face in the baby carseat. A face I know well because I stare at the same fucking face in the mirror every damn day.

Fuck my life.