Chapter 22
22
Anchor – One Week Later
I tap my finger against my leg, my eyes on my left hand on my other leg. The black tattooed ring is the only thing I can focus on.
I’m a fucking idiot….
Drowning in my sorrows for what I put my wife through, trapping her only for her to lose our baby, I forgot Ginger was still around and expected my wife to sit in her presence for an hour while I was at church.
I only went to the hospital to let her know I’d be later than usual, needing to see her if only for a minute, still staying with her at night, but this time, her body basically sleeping on top of mine, only to find her sitting in the chair, shocking me.
I didn’t have time to process anything. She keeps trying to ask how I got the bruises, which I keep dodging, knowing she’ll kick my ass.
I’m expecting her to blame me for the baby, but nothing, and it’s killing me. My head is all over the place because I know I’m to blame for her going through that trauma, and she hasn’t screamed and shouted at me yet, hence my not thinking about who was at the club.
Like I said, I’m a fucking idiot, and now, she won’t talk to me, not one fucking word.
Idiot, idiot, idiot….
“John is back to guard duty today,” Steal says as he side-eyes me and nudges my arm, getting my attention, but I don’t react.
What the fuck did he expect me to do, the fucker kissed my wife!
Okay, she kissed him to piss me off, but it’s not the point. His lips still touched hers, and he still fucking kissed her back.
“Cass gave him the all-clear then?” Shotgun confirms, smirking my way, and I itch my chin with my middle finger, making him chuckle.
“She did,” Steal answers him, also smirking my way, and I sigh.
“Okay, I get it; I shouldn’t have hit him the fifth time,” I admit, and the brothers laugh, and I shake my head. “Can we get back to club business, please?”
Acid sighs and sits forward. Looking at me, he says, “We’ve done club business. You zoned out, which is understandable. We’re just worried, brother.”
Fuck.
I sigh as Piston asks, “How is Heaven doing?”
I snort, leaning back in my chair, and ask, “Before I tried to get her to sit an hour in a room with a woman that I fucked on our wedding anniversary or after?”
He winces. “Let’s try with before….”
I shrug. “She was clinging to me like I’d disappear, despite my acting off-kilter. I felt guilty that she lost a baby she shouldn’t have even had, yet every night, she held onto me.”
“And after?” Steal asks.
I scrunch my nose and admit, “She hasn’t said one word to me.”
“Can’t really blame her, brother,” Pitbull adds, and I roll my eyes.
“What else was I supposed to fucking do, brother? I only brought her to the club because I thought she’d try and leave if I took her to the house; I just forgot about that bitch is all. She hasn’t been on the list of my priorities lately.” I grit my teeth. “And don’t get me fucking started on her kissing that fucker.”
Cannon grins and reminds me, “She only did that so you’d get some feeling as to how she felt, and brother, you fucked Ginger, so what you felt wasn’t even half of what she’s feeling.”
I swallow hard, knowing he’s right. All I did last week was show her I hadn’t changed at all. I didn’t think of how she’d feel being here, fuck, I was going to allow the brothers to fucking question her straight after being discharged from hospital.
I sigh. “Steal, bang the gavel, brother. " I need to leave this room, but won’t disrespect my president, my best friend.
He looks at me with concern but does as I ask, and states, “Church over.”
I don’t hang around. I quickly stand and walk out of church, grabbing my phone from Webster, who raises a brow.
I shake my head at him, but before I can get two steps away, a fist lands in my face, making me grunt in shock. I stumble back before I lock eyes with Arts, and I groan, “Not now, brother….”
He crosses his arms over his chest and demands, “When then? Because for the past month, you’ve fucking dodged me, and you’ve dodged the club, and it is about time you give us some fucking answers.”
I stand taller as every brother looks my way, including their women, while the clubwhores are nowhere to be seen as today is family day, a day Heaven wants no part of and refuses to allow my son to be here.
Not that I blame her. The only way to get her to go to our home was to threaten no access to Micah, something I regretted instantly.
In my defense, I had just watched my fucking wife kiss a pansy.
I look Art in the eye, and I snap, “I don’t owe you or the brothers fucking anything. This is my life, and it has fuck all to do with the club, and right now, my priority is my fucking wife.”
He narrows his eyes. “It has everything to do with the club because the club means fucking family, and it has everything to do with me because I was there the day you met Heaven. I was the one who watched you fall madly, deeply in love with her.” I deflate, and he softens. “You cheated on her, Anchor…. Why?”
I look around the room and see everyone looking my way before I notice my dad standing at the back of the room, his hands fisted, my mother keeping him back, knowing I need to explain myself when really, I fucking don’t want to. This is between my wife and I, not the club, but I know Art, and I know he won’t let shit go.
“Because I was a selfish prick,” I answer.
“Bowler and I decided Anchor should claim his relationship ended because, at the time, he was only a prospect, and because of club law, we couldn’t guarantee Heaven’s safety despite them being married,” Hammer says, getting everyone’s attention from near the front door.
“Dad, when did you get back?” Steal says happily.
Hammer looks at me and gives me a sad smile before replying to Steal, “Your mother and I decided to return when we heard Heaven was in a coma, and we knew the crap he was about to receive from the club; she’s gone to the house to air it out.” He looks around the room. “Anchor and Heaven married on Heaven’s high school graduation day, a few months later, they had found out Heaven was pregnant with Micha. Now, at the time, we had a traitor. Prospects’ women, even ones they just hooked up with outside the compound, were found dead, murdered by The Killers. At the time, we had no idea who was involved. We didn’t want what happened to the women to happen to Heaven, or worse, to Micha.”
“So, explain what happened with Ginger?” Tank asks from the back, where he’s sitting with some older generation.
I sigh and admit, “I didn’t want to be a brother,” shocking them. “Everyone here knows what Dad did to Mom, that she had to bring up his affair, baby.” I send my little sister a wince who just grins at me with tears in her eyes. “I was petrified the cut would get to my head, and I’d hurt my woman, and I was right. When I patched in, I wanted nothing more than to celebrate with the club, to prove to my dad that I’m in this, that I’ll be better, but when I went to grab my wife, to finally show her off, she’d just finished nursing our two-month-old, and refused to come. She got angry at me, and I called her selfish, then left her with our son.” The brother's mouths drop open while the women scowl at me, and rightfully so.
I huff. “I was so fucking angry at her. In my head, she wasn’t supporting me; in my head, I’d done everything for her, yet she couldn’t do this one fucking thing for me, so I came back here, got drunk, and Ginger caught my eye, just like she did in high school that one time behind the bleachers.”
“Fuck’s sake, Anchor,” Bulldozer snaps.
I nod, then admit, “I was a fucking idiot.”
“I can kind of understand your mindset. I guess if she wasn’t the wife she should have been, to be your other half…” Candice, Tanks old lady says with a furrowed brow.
I raise a brow and add, “Did I also mention she was two months post-partum, tired, never left our son with anyone, breastfeeding, and it was our first wedding anniversary, where I planned to cook her a meal, which I forgot?” Her brown eyes widen in shock. “She also quit college so I could continue with my business degree, and took on night shifts at a retirement home until about six years ago, and started bartending at Jimmy’s Girls, refusing to accept the money I’ve been transferring her.”
“I take it back, you’re a jackass,” she says.
I nod. “Yep, and that is what she carved into the tank of my bike before one of our couple therapy sessions, after Ginger decided to lie to her at the grocery store, stating I was fucking her.”
Steal butts in, “Heaven was the best girlfriend and wife to Anchor. She put her dreams on hold so he could give everything to the club, and Ginger wasn’t just a clubwhore; she was Heaven’s high school bully for her last year of school, hating that Anchor didn’t choose her, and yet Heaven never told him what was going on.” He looks around the room. “For ten years, she’s been filing for divorce, not wanting anything but to be free of a man who could hurt her in a way she never thought he would. Ten years he’s been trying to prove to her he loved her, all while not knowing Ginger was causing shit behind the scenes, and that her mother was badmouthing him, not wanting her daughter with a man who could hurt her that way.”
I swallow the emotions wanting to take hold, and I finish, “She finally agreed to couple’s therapy, but in her mind, it was to finish us for good.” I look around the room. “Before the accident, she finally agreed to give me an actual chance to prove myself.”
“Why isn’t she here now?” my sister asks, and I wince.
“Heaven wants nothing to do with the club, and she doesn’t want Micha here, either,” my dad says loudly, then points at me. “The idiot, here, not realizing she was being discharged last week, thought it would be a good idea to have her wait in this room while he was in church because he was worried she’d run to the house he emptied while she was in her coma, not remembering Ginger was here.”
The brothers wince, and the women openly curse at me.
“You’re pushing her away,” Art says from beside me. I look his way, not denying it, and he demands, “Why?”
I look at Steal, who tilts his head while Acid comes up beside me and says, “As some of you heard that day, Heaven was pregnant, and she lost the baby.”
My sister sniffles while the brothers’ eyes soften, some still full of shock.
“I’m the reason she was pregnant to begin with,” I state and my mom chimes in and snaps, “It takes two, son, you shouldn’t blame yourself.”
I grit my teeth and snap back, “I fucked with her birth control!” Mom’s mouth drops in shock, and I sigh, running my hand through my hair before Moira, Steal’s and Cassidy’s little girl, runs my way. I smile at my best friend’s daughter and pick her up before her arms wrap around my neck. I hold her close before looking back at my mom.
“If I hadn’t messed with her birth control, she wouldn’t have been pregnant during the incident, meaning she never would have felt the pain of losing our child, so yes, I’m pulling myself away from her…unintentionally, and I messed up, yet again, last week because of it.”
Piston offers, “But she’s still here, brother.”
I kiss Moira’s head before handing her off to her dad. Then I answer Piston, “Because when she tried to walk off, I threatened to keep our son from her.” I look around the room. “Something, by the way, she has never done with me. The only thing she said after I did what I did ten years ago was that I couldn’t have him overnight while she was nursing and that he wasn’t allowed here.”
“Brother,” Steal says, and I look his way, “she tried dating but always took the call when Micha called her, allowing him to ruin them, she kept going back to you, she said yes to couple’s therapy, fuck, she stayed, knowing you fucked with her birth control…. She won’t leave you now because of your threats.”
“He’s right,” Hammer says, and I look his way. “She loves you and knows your threats are bullshit. Don’t give up….”
Twenty minutes later, I silently open my front door. The fireplace is lit, the pictures of Heaven, Micha, and I littering the shelf above it. My son is immersed in his soccer videogame, his eyes on the TV in the corner. I smile as I remove my cut, hanging it up.
“Hey, Bud,” I say quietly, and he turns his head my way, grinning.
“Hi, Dad,” he replies before returning to the TV to pause his game.
“Where’s Mom?” I ask him, and he points to the open kitchen, and I see Heaven standing outside in the yard, and I swallow hard.
“Hey, Dad,” Micha says, getting my attention. I look his way to see him frowning. “When will I get to go to the clubhouse?” he asks, and I sigh.
“I don’t know, Bud. The clubhouse and your mom, well, she doesn’t like it there,” I admit, and he nods in understanding, acting all grown up for a ten-year-old.
“Mom will get there,” he says before he turns back to the TV, not complaining that he can’t meet all the brothers yet, understanding his mom’s fears. I walk into the dark oak open kitchen with the large glass door, the dining table to the right, with a breakfast bar separating them.
Slowly, I open the glass sliding door and walk out, shutting it behind me. I wait for her to turn, but she doesn’t. Instead, she continues to stare off into the distance, the soccer net right at the end of the yard next to the swing set.
I hear her sniffle, and instantly, I feel like a fucking dickhead.
I’ve been so focused on myself and how I feel that I haven’t stopped to think of her. Honestly, even though she goes to sleep on the edge of the bed, refusing to cuddle, she always gravitates toward me, but it’s not enough. I miss her voice. I miss her .
How I went ten years without her in our home, together, I’ll never fucking know.
“Heaven,” I say to get her attention. She tenses, but she doesn’t cower; instead, she turns, looking my way as she crosses her arms over her chest, not bothering to hide her tears. I can’t even take her in because of the pain that’s shining in her eyes, and I sigh. “I’m so sorry, Angel.” I walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist, placing my face into her neck, ignoring how uncomfortable it is with her arms crossed between us.
“I’ve been a fucking idiot, and I’m so sorry,” I rasp, and it takes her a few minutes, but she relents and moves her arms, wrapping them around my neck as she steps up on her tiptoes to hold me tight. Everything in me relaxes as I lift her, causing her to wrap her legs around my waist. She straddles me as I take a seat on the rocking swing on the deck, not once letting go of her.
Fuck, I’ve missed holding her like this….
“I’m an idiot,” I whisper after roughly ten minutes of just holding her.
“No arguments here,” she replies, and I smile against her smooth, soft skin as I breathe her in. “It wasn’t your fault,” she sighs as she rests her head on my shoulder, putting her face into my neck. I kiss her forehead, gripping her hair in my hand.
“You wouldn’t have been pregnant if it wasn’t for me, Angel,” I whisper with heartbreak.
She huffs and pulls back, gripping my cheeks. Her eyes race between mine as she says, “It still wasn’t your fault, Travis. Accidents happen, and unfortunately, it did happen to us, and you need to stop punishing yourself, your son, and me for it. You wanted to work things out, to prove to me you’re not that stupid kid you were ten years ago, so prove it.” She gently pecks my lips and whispers, “I’m still here, Travis; I haven’t run off with our son, I’m here, so please don’t take it for granted again. Show me we can get through this together.”
My heart flutters at her words, and I rasp, “I love you, Heaven Turner, so fucking much….”
Her eyes tear up, and she admits, “And I love you, too.”
Fuck, there it is. My whole body relaxes, and I slam my lips against hers. I know she still doesn’t trust me, I know she doesn’t want anything to do with the club, and I know there’s a chance she’ll still leave me, but she loves me—admitting it out loud is the first step to moving forward.
I deepen the kiss, my tongue tangling with hers as our son shouts at the TV in the background, and I can’t help but smile into the kiss, finally feeling happy after so long.
I just hope I don’t fuck it up again….