Chapter 18
Summer
I watch numbly as Eric speaks to well, apparently the guy’s name is Anchor, the same road name as him which has to be confusing.
Doc, who apparently doesn’t come on these runs much because of his job, speaks to Steal, the president of the Huntsmen MC, or that is what Eric called him and by speak, I mean taking a look at Steal’s bruised hand.
Apparently some guy made a pass at his old lady, Cassidy, and while she thought it was hilarious because the guy was only eighteen and a wanna be gangster – Eric’s words not mine – Steal was pissed and knocked the kid out or so that is how Eric explained it on the way here after Steal called Doc last night to confirm him or Tank would be here.
I look away from Doc shaking his head at Steal and look towards the van I travelled here in and see the prospects swapping the merchandise from one van to another.
I don’t judge or raise a brow. As far as I’m concerned, some of that merchandise saved me and hundreds of women, men, and children.
I sigh, the image of the cages haunting me and I look down at my drink.
Eric wanted me to stay in the van, concerned I may have a panic attack around all these men but I needed to stretch my legs, to not be confined like I had for a year and a half, so I wandered over to the bench.
Willie, the prospect for the club handed me a drink with hesitation but soon smiled when I gave him a small smile in thanks and that was half an hour ago where I’ve stayed put, away from all the men, drinking a hot chocolate as I watched the men do their business, all while my mind spins.
I blink and look back at Eric and Anchor who are still chatting, though I do see Eric’s eyes are on me, like they always are, concern etching off him.
I want to question why he and the Huntsmen road captain both have the same name —or well, road name — but I think I’m broken, like my voice box has stopped working.
I haven’t said a word since I passed out in Eric's arms two days ago after he told me about-about…
I look down at my flat stomach, and it sinks like it has since I was told about...
Maybe I screwed up in a past life? Because surely no one can have this much bad luck?
My mama didn’t want me, I lost my dad, forced to live with said mama who pushed me to date a douche.
My boyfriend basically cheated because he thought I was using him taking a situation the wrong way, I was kidnapped because of my mother and ex-boyfriend, raped repeatedly, had pregnancies kicked out of me, I had to kill seven rapists over the course of the time I was held captive, I failed at killing myself and now I’m carrying one of my rapist’s baby, which one, I couldn’t tell you.
Over the course of the past ten weeks, roughly fifty men had raped me, including Hanz, along with four women.
“She hasn’t spoken in twenty-four hours, Tank. What the fuck do I do?”
Eric's panicked voice echoes in my head, and I swallow hard, flinching a little at the pain throbbing in my throat.
Tank told me I’ll be struggling with swallowing for a little while, that I may not have done permanent damage with what I tried to do, but I did cause some.
I’ve been in a fog for two days. Even before that, I was struggling, and now my skin feels itchier than ever.
I can’t do this.
Breathing alone is a struggle and not just because of my injuries from the year and a half I was choked, beaten and raped, but because the memories alone are tearing me apart, and now this, a baby, my rapist’s baby…
How am I supposed to carry it to term, to give birth to it?
How am I supposed to love it?
The answer is, I can’t, I simply can’t. It will be the reminder of what I went through, and I’ll most likely resent it, but can I go through with a termination?
I had three babies kicked out of me, three. I felt them leave my body, I felt the pain, then I was raped, only twenty-four hours after each pregnancy was forcefully terminated from me so how can I go through a termination?
But it was conceived through rape, torment, horror, the voice reminds me and I wince.
I look down, hoping Eric doesn’t see my pain and quickly wipe away a tear.
For so long, I could control my tears, could hide them knowing the punishment if they were seen, and now it’s like a dam has broken because I can’t seem to make them stop.
I can’t bring up my rapist’s baby, I just can’t.
Doc, Tank and Eric have encouraged me to think about it when I didn’t bring it up to them, to not make any rash decisions, that I had time and that they were there for me while Rose, Brittany and Ashley who is absolutely sweet to come sit with me for an hour despite her baby boy being in the hospital, have all stated they were here for me but that doesn’t help.
I’m so confused.
Everything is just all too much right now.
I’ve gone from being heartbroken, to repeatedly raped, to being saved, to my boyfriend still wanting me, to pregnant.
I feel like I’m in a nightmare, one I don’t know how to get out of.
Maybe I could give the child up for adoption? Let it live its life without being reminded that it was conceived by rape?
But can I carry it for six months or so when I want to die?
Damn…
“Sunshine?” Eric whispers, and I look up and blink, seeing him kneeling before me, concern in his beautiful hazel eyes that I have loved for so long.
I didn’t even hear him walk over.
I notice a few brothers looking at me with worry, and I clear my throat with unease and look back at Eric.
“So this is what you do on a run? Stand around and talk shit while the prospects do the grunt work?” I whisper, but he doesn’t smile like I had hoped. Instead, he’s looking at me full of fear and worry.
He can see my torment, he can see my indecisiveness, because he sees me —he has always seen me which is why I’m struggling to understand how he thought I would hurt him the way he thought I did.
Moving slowly, Eric lifts his hand and gently cups my cheek, and instead of flinching, I move my head into his warmth and close my eyes, allowing myself that one moment to remember how I used to feel.
“Yeah, sunshine,” he murmurs, and I look at him again to see his whole attention on me. “This is my life,” he agrees, “But the question is, what do you want to do with yours?”
That is a good question, especially when I have no idea what I’m doing with the baby, let alone my future, when I don’t see myself having one, though something tells me this man before me, who stole my heart and refused to give it back, won’t let me give up.
His eyes race between mine, and when I don’t say anything, he asks, “Do you want to go back to college and finish your degree? Your lawyer has made sure your place is still there, or do you want to live the life of luxury you know you can have? What would you like to do, baby?”
I cast my eyes down, not knowing how to answer his question, and he gently squeezes my jaw, causing me to look at him again.
No pressure, no judgment. All he does is look at me with comfort and love —a look I used to love but now don’t think I deserve.
“I don’t know,” I choke, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”
He nods, then leans forward and presses his lips against my forehead. I flinch involuntarily, but he doesn’t deter. Instead, he moves his hand from my jaw, cups the back of my head, and holds me to his chest, and I melt into his embrace despite my body shaking with unwanted fear.
“Whatever you decide, sunshine, I will always stand by you,” he says, his chest rumbling against my ear, and a few tears fall, hearing his true meaning.
He means the baby, the innocent baby who didn’t ask to be conceived.
He pulls back, and I instantly miss his heat, but before I can comment, something I didn’t even know I was capable of doing again, he grabs my hand and gently pulls me up before wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling my body close to his.
I tense again, but I try to ignore it and lean into him, placing my head against his chest.
The image of that woman over his desk hits me again like it always does when I allow him to touch me against my body’s reaction.
I squeeze my eyes tight as he guides me towards the van, and I try to get rid of the image, only for one of Hanz grinning at me, holding a bloody knife that was inside me blinds me.
I can’t live with these memories, I really can’t.
“Brother, I’d like for you to meet my girl,” Eric says, snapping me out of my memories, and I open my eyes, locking them with dark brown ones that look at me with softness. “Sunshine, this is Anchor,” Eric murmurs.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Anchor says softly, tilting his head, and I give him a small smile.
“You too,” I lie. Don’t get me wrong, he’s probably extremely sweet and kind, but I feel uneasy, and the only thing keeping my breathing under control is the man beside me with his arm wrapped around my waist, despite my body wanting to revolt away from him.
“Did you get your road name by doing something stupid as well?” I ask, hoping to cut the awkwardness — or, well, my awkwardness, anyhow.
Anchor smirks, “No, I’m apparently the anchor to my club while your man there is an idiot.”
I smile widely for the first time in so long, and Eric doesn’t even reprimand that man for calling him out and I look at him to see what has his attention but instead he’s looking at me with awe and fondness.
“I missed that smile,” he whispers, and I swallow hard.
“So did I,” I admit, and he squeezes me tighter to him.
“So, brother, how did you manage to get a girl like that to give you the time of day? She is totally out of your league!” Anchor asks, and I clear my throat to stop my snort, which I know will hurt if I let it out.
“Basically told her she was my girl without giving her a choice,” Eric says with pride, and I roll my eyes and mutter, “No basically about it, you did demand it, then showed up at my college like some stalker.”
Anchor smirks while Eric grins and states, “I’m not even sorry about it.”
Damn this man and his words.
My heart flutters, and I swallow hard, but instantly flinch at the pain yet again, and I look down as Anchor and Eric begin talking about a woman called Annalise sending strippers to several clubs after her old man told her ‘no’ to another dog.
Honestly, the woman sounds absolutely hilarious by the rumors I’ve heard about her, and if I weren’t so in my head right now, I’d probably laugh and want to meet her.
I zone out as so many questions fill me and I don’t know how Eric could want me, not after everything, and I don’t know how to process what he did, just like I don’t know how to process this pregnancy.
I never should have survived that warehouse. I didn’t believe I would, and now everything is up in the air —my life, Eric, Amber, Hanz, Gabriel.
I feel like I’m floating in limbo and can’t get down.
***
“You’ve gone quiet on me again,” Eric says two hours later, and I look up, seeing him leaning against the cream dresser, his arms crossed over his chest, his hazel eyes assessing me.
After the brothers finished, we went out to a diner, where thankfully Eric never left my side, even when I had to use the bathroom, keeping me grounded and ensuring a panic attack didn’t happen.
After we ate he brought us back to the motel we’re staying in tonight before beginning our next journey to meet another MC group but I have been in my head the entire time.
I’m thinking adoption might be the best route. It isn’t the baby’s fault that it was conceived, and being ten weeks, I know there will be a heartbeat, and I don’t feel comfortable terminating the pregnancy, but I also know I can’t raise the baby.
Eric tilts his head when I don’t say anything, assessing me before sighing, “Once we're on our way home, I need to pop into Rebel’s Honeys. Dad's struggling with the books so we’ll only be an hour tops.”
Rebel’s Honeys as in… I instantly shake my head.
I can’t go back there, I won’t and not because I had to pick up Gabriel from there or because I met Eric there, but because he had that woman bent over his desk.
Eric's eyes race between mine before he slowly nods and murmurs, “Okay, I’ll get Dad to bring the paperwork to me, at least that way I won't have to see the twins.”
“They’re still causing trouble?” I ask quietly, vaguely remembering the troubled two that feels like a lifetime ago and he groans.
“Every day without fail. If they didn’t bring in so much revenue, they would have been fired years ago,” he admits, and I nod.
“You could always drop me back off at your house,” I offer, and he gives me a pointed look, and I mutter, “Or maybe not…”
We’ve been staying the night at his Victorian-style home, while during the day we’re at the clubhouse.
He won’t allow me on my own, and I get it, I do, but he left me, thought the worst of me, so why does he care what I do?
Why hasn’t he moved on like I thought he had?
Because he loves you, the small voice whispers, and I squeeze my eyes tightly as Eric sighs, “I’m not going to give up, Summer, I’m not going to lose you.”
I open my eyes as a knock sounds on the door and look at Eric, showing him my fear and he pushes off the dresser and walks over to me before bending and pressing his lips against my forehead making me tense involuntarily but he doesn’t deter as he whispers, “I love you Summer, the good, the bad, the ugly, only you, I always have…”
He presses another kiss before turning and walking out the front door. Doc, standing just outside, catches my eye, and I look away, despite Eric keeping the door ajar. I slowly climb into the bed, knowing Eric will follow soon.
Another thing he’s made sure – I’m always in bed with him, no matter what, and I feel safe, a feeling I never thought I would feel again but my body still repels from him.
Surely he can find someone better? Someone who isn’t broken?
Surely he doesn’t see forever with me when I don’t see a future for myself?
Guess I should have remembered the man who wouldn’t let me say no nearly two years ago, the man who wouldn’t let me walk this earth without him because Eric, he’ll never let me go again.