Marlena 7.
“Animals! Filthy fucking animals, the lot of you! You need Moses or Jesus!” Judah’s voice gets louder with every word. It’s breakfast in the clubhouse and normally a sedate experience. Today, however, Judah is unhinged. Akivah pushes against his chest in vain, trying to back him out of the dining room but it’s like a mouse trying to push a lion. His eyes are wild, his hair flying as his head jerks side to side, right hand pointing menacingly at everyone. “You’re lucky the towels didn’t start reproducing in the dryer, no one here can afford that much child support!”
Ignoring the mental breakdown of the Golem Guerillas beloved President, I turn to Revkah and ask, “I was hoping to leave after breakfast is over, do you have any food for me to bring back?”
Rev, usually sweet unless Asher pisses her off, throws her head back and laughs like a movie villain. It’s…unsettling. Akivah plops down across the table from us, breathing heavy. I look up at the doorway and watch as Solomon and Titus carry Judah away. Shaking off that image, I look to Akivah since Rev is still laughing. “Do you have any food for me to bring back?”
She laughs too, but hers doesn’t make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “The club cage is already packed.”
“Oh, ok.” Glancing once more around the dining room, I confirm Elazar hasn’t entered, then muster up the courage to ask, “Is Elazar ready to go? I haven’t seen him since he came to the clinic night before last.”
She smiles with a nod. “He’s just finishing up his latest shower. Should be down shortly.”
“Latest shower?” I try to push the image of him naked with water traveling down the ridges and valleys of his muscles, his large hand wrapped tight around his—
“His punishment affected him…negatively. 16 hours of bald-headed children, creatures with tv tummies and sun babies, and whiny trains took a toll we didn’t anticipate and left him feeling dirty.”
Rev nudges my shoulder, “I don’t think our Czar is going to be able to hear or say the word ‘Love’ without needing to cleanse the ickiness from his person anytime soon. You’ll have to come up with a different way to express your feelings.”
“Revkah!” I gasp. Her and Akivah are far more evil than anyone gives them credit for. Sweet and innocent my ass.
“What?” She quirks an eyebrow at me, “Is it a secret?”
“Is what a secret?”
“Oh, honey, don’t play games with me. Elazar and Marlena sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love—”
“NO!” We startle, jerking our head toward the entrance and see Elazar with his hands tugging on his hair, folding in on himself, “Make it stop! Where’s a fucking asteroid when you need it! Fucking purple dinosaurs!”
I start to rise from my seat to go to him, he’s obviously distressed, though I’m unsure why. Rev puts her hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down in my seat.
Akivah leans conspiratorially over the table and whispers, “I would also avoid the color purple, and Thomas, Percy, Edward, and Gordon when naming your children.” My hands automatically go to my stomach, troubled that she already knows I’m pregnant. But then Akivah’s eyes narrow on my hands, she tilts her head, shares a look with Revkah and then relaxes into her seat with a knowing grin. “For the children you and my son have together.” She amends and it doesn’t help my rapidly beating heart or the tingles in my fingers and toes.
On instinct, I grab my fork and stab Akivah in the hand, not enough to puncture but enough to hurt. She hisses and wrenches her hand back, cradling it against her chest. I sigh in relief, but it’s short lived when I realize the entire dining room is staring at me in horror. This can’t be the weirdest thing they’ve seen.
I lift a shoulder and explain, “I was checking to see if she was a witch.”
Pris places a platter on the table between us, “I coulda told you she wasn’t.”
Akivah glares at Pris, still protecting her hand. “You weren’t checking for witchcraft.”
Pris leans over and is inches from Akivah’s face, “No, bitch tried to steal my raviolis.”
“I was trying to serve dinner to everyone.”
“They were mine!” Pris’ voice is low and lethal.
“It was a serving bowl with like 13 dozen raviolis!”
“MINE!”
“Hey, you ready to go?” I jump with a squeak when Elazar’s voice rumbles in my ear. I didn’t even hear him approach. Everyone here moves like ninjas. “I can’t…I can’t stay here any longer. Too many memories…I can’t escape the voices.”
I keep my face expressionless, not wanting to insult him by smiling at how adorable he is right now, and nod in agreement. He pulls out my chair for me and offers a hand to help me up. It’s sweet. I wipe my sweaty hand on my pant leg and then slip it into his. His hand is rough and dwarfs mine, I stare dumbfounded at how they look together, my clit throbbing at the sight. The contrast. The texture.
Lawdy, lawdy! I’ve thought of little else but his words to me two nights ago, the parting forehead kiss, the heat that consumed my body. I’d like to blame the hormones, but I can’t. Elazar Freidman is sexy as all get out and he is interested in me. And I want to give in to those feelings, but I don’t think now is the right time. He’s still in the Army, I’m pregnant, and I’m still not sure how I feel about physical affection.
But I want to try for him.
He tugs my hand and draws me from my chair. Suddenly a doggy bag is slapped against my chest and I’m wondering how long I sat staring at our hands if Pris was able to pack us breakfast to go.
“Thank you, Mrs. Havlin,” Elazar says with detachment, not his usual fondness. She chuckles and winks at me, dancing back toward the kitchen.
“Son, you can’t blame her. It was the decision of the tribunal; she simply conveyed our ruling.” Akivah tries, sliding under Elazar’s other arm and hugging him. It’s always funny to see him with his mom. He’s almost a foot and a half taller than her, he’s taller than Judah too, but not by much.
“She has too much power. She’s drunk on it.”
Akivah eyes her son like he’s stupid. “Well, yeah.” Shaking her head she steps away from us and walks out of the dining room, “Come on, let me explain what’s in the cage.” It’s only after we’ve exited the clubhouse that I realize we’re still holding hands. An excited flip of my stomach has me pressing my free hand to my mouth to stop the inopportune vomit from happening. I haven’t had morning sickness, per se, more all-day indigestion.
When we get to the club cage I drove up here, Elazar drops my hand and circles the SUV. “What the fuck? Where the hell are we supposed to sit? Is my shit in there?” All four doors are open and the trunk and honestly, there isn’t a spare centimeter of the interior that isn’t filled. It’s a good thing I don’t really pack anything to go back and forth, I’ve got enough of everything at both clubhouses.
“Trunk is meals and treats for the club. Backseat is for Vesta and P-Daisy, the floor of the backseat is for Maneater. Everything is labeled and cooking temps and times are on the foil. And the pod on top,” I didn’t even notice the addition to the roof of the vehicle, “is emergency reserves should the incubators get restless.” Akivah stops in front of me, she grabs my shoulders, squeezes, then whispers, “It’s actually for you. I imagine the baby of a god will require quite a bit of sustenance.” She does know! How?
She pulls me into her chest and somehow, despite the several inches I have on her, it feels as if she surrounds me in the bestest way. I never had a real mom, like the ones I would see on tv or movies, the moms my friends had. I had a woman who lived in our house that Mars and I shared DNA with, but she was never a mom. But Akivah, right now, feels better than any of those moms I dreamt of as a child.
When she releases me, tears shine in her eyes but she’s smiling. “All good things take time, and it will never happen sooner than it’s supposed to.” She walks away, heading around the SUV and latching onto Elazar like a barnacle. I watch mother and son for a second before a dark blue leather vest fills my vision and I’m hugged once again. Judah rocks us back and forth for a few seconds, leans back, then cups my face. We stare at one another, his lips tipping up slightly. And before I know what’s happening, he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, much like his son two nights ago, and he’s gone.
Since I come and go so often, goodbyes are usually brief and casual. I feel like my world is upside down and inside out this morning, and we haven’t even left Squirrel Hill.
And just like stupid girls in horror movies with no sense of self-preservation, I get into the driver’s seat of the SUV and buckle up. Moments later, Elazar stuffs himself into the passenger seat, grumbling about keeping his duffle on his lap, and drags his seatbelt across his sculpted chest, distracting even under his kutte and t-shirt. He rests his left arm on my armrest and fiddles with the radio, syncing his phone with Bluetooth.
“You ok with oldies?” He asks, then glances up at me and I’m caught in his gaze, frozen to the spot. “Marlena?” Oh, right. I nod, because I love all kinds of music.
Enclosed space with his concentrated scent. Inches from his firm and muscled body. The memory of his lips against my skin.
No self-preservation indeed.
I remind myself that I’m an adult, shake off my ridiculous behavior, put the cage in gear and pull out of the clubhouse parking lot.
The music continues as I navigate to the highway. Once we’re on the main stretch to Morgantown, Elazar turns down the volume slightly and shifts in his seat so his back is against his door and he’s facing me. My eyes dart to him several times, before I force myself to focus on the road and not the heat creeping up my neck and face the longer he stares.
“Alright, woman, catch me up on the happenings in Morgantown.” I bark out a laugh at his directness. This is a topic I’m happy to discuss. I love the found family Mars has acquired over the years and I love them more for always including me and treating me like an extension of my big brother.
For the next 45 minutes, I expound on all things Golem Guerillas Morgantown and Aventine Manor. The couples and throuples, the hospitality specialists, the businesses and the valued employees who run them, the ever-growing list of enemies that I know of, the clubhouse and its expansion, the dicks and boobs, Runs and Biscuit’s wedding, and note-worthy anecdotes because I love to listen to him laugh.
“A watermelon fell on her face?” He breathes out when he stops laughing long enough to speak.
“It was epic. And she milked that for weeks after. You should have seen Jupiter fall all over himself to take care of her.”
“I can’t imagine Tops doing anything like that.” He replies, thinking fondly of his previous CO.
“Dru has that effect on people.”
“Damn right she does.” He agrees happily, his lips tipping down a second later. “I don’t know that I could have ever predicted Jupiter and Dru when I first discussed the club with him. But thinking about it, it makes perfect sense. She isn’t a force, she’s the force to be reckoned with. We had such a unique upbringing, and it amazes me how differently we’ve all applied that to adulthood. There isn’t a better woman for Jupiter to have at his side. She was born to be the first lady of the Golem Guerillas, but it could never have been in Squirrel Hill. Aside from the fact Solomon and Kezia have been together since toddlerhood—”
“Solomon? Why wouldn’t you be the next president?” I interrupt, confused.
Elazar chuckles, “To quote my father, ‘We aren’t a monarchy’. And honestly, I can’t be president in Squirrel Hill for the same reason Dru can’t be first lady in Squirrel Hill. The mother chapter isn’t our forever home. There are several of us kids that are woven into the DNA of the Squirrel Hill clubhouse. And the rest of us are meant to carry that DNA and spread it elsewhere.” He pauses, and I look at him quickly and see his face screwed up in disgust. “That got away from me. I just mean we’re supposed to move on.”
“The world is a big place and with plenty of evil to vanquish.”
“Exactly.”
We’re quiet for a while, I’m thinking of the evil the GGMC took care of for me. I’m drawn from my head when Elazar groans. He’s staring at me again, only this time, I can feel his eyes running up and down my body. Once, I catch him looking intently at my breasts. Another my belly. And then the junction between my legs. He licks his lips and groans again.
“I’m pregnant!” I blurt out and wish with everything I am that I could take that back. Say it eloquently or not say it at all. He blinks owlishly and I realize we can’t have this conversation with me driving. I need to look at him, see his reactions, gauge his response. I flick my turn signal, change lanes, then pull onto the shoulder, the rumble strips brief as I come to a stop. Once the vehicle is in Park, I jump out. He curses and throws open his own door to meet me at the back of the SUV.
“Marlena! Busy highway! Look before you open your door!”
“I’m pregnant.” I tell him again, because that seems to be the important thing to focus on.
His eyes drop to my belly, and he grins. “Damn, I’m good.”
“What?” Stepping toward me, I back up until I hit the trunk, his arms coming up to bracket my head, his fingers curled around the top of the vehicle. His arms…good Lord, so thick and rippling with muscle. Snap out of it, hussy!
“I got to thinking about spreading my own DNA and how my dad told me he and mom want grandkids, and I pictured you, belly big with my child, your tits filling with milk, my mouth…and then you tell me you’re pregnant.” He stands up a little straighter, puffing out his chest, a cocky smirk on his chiseled face, “I thought it and it happened.”
“It’s my brother’s.” For heaven’s sake, seriously? His jaw slackens, eyes widen in alarm, and his entire body coils tight. I step out from under his arm since he seems to be frozen in place, spread my arms wide and rise up on my toes. Nothing. I do it again.
“What are you doing?”
“Now would be a great time for the rapture.”
“Marlena.” I drop my arms, my body sagging in defeat.
“You can’t tell anyone yet. We’re waiting until I’m at least 12 weeks along and I’m only a little more than a month right now.”
“Marlena, tell me how you are carrying Mars’ child in a way that convinces me not to kill him with my bare hands!”
“Oh!” I spin around and rush to him, placing my hands on his chest. “No! No! Sorry, surrogacy. I’m their surrogate. His sperm, Etta’s eggs, my baby baker.” He shivers, placing his hands on my hips and turning us so I’m against the SUV again and he’s all up in my grill.
“Never call it that again.” He states firmly. “And never speak of another man’s sperm either.”
“My brother—”
“Especially your brother’s.”
I lean back, resting my head against the back windshield and giggle, “Yeah, ok. It’s weird.”
“So weird.” He steps closer, his body covering mine, blocking out the road, the passing trucks, the sun and clouds, it’s just him and me and it’s amazing…and scary. “But it only makes me like you more.”
“W-w-what? Why?”
“Silly girl—”
“I’m older than you.” I don’t know why I point that out, but it seems like pertinent information.
“Don’t care. You’re kind of incredible.” Closing my eyes, I breathe in, let it out slowly, and do it again, then open my eyes and find him watching me. His right hand lifts from my hip, he brings it to my long black hair and twirls a chunk of it around his finger, “Beautiful. Selfless. Kind. Brave.”
“ I’m not brave ,” I whisper in shame.
“Marlena. You broke the cycle, freed yourself—”
“The club freed me.”
“No. The club may have done the heavy lifting, but if you weren’t brave enough to leave, to seek help, to be better, do better, then it wouldn’t have mattered.” He lets my hair fall, then cups my face with both hands, tilting it up until I’m forced to meet his gaze. “You are more than your past. The Marlena of 4 years ago is long gone. She’s been buried, mourned, and laid to rest. I have no doubt I would have liked that Marlena too, but the one that’s been hiding in the shadows, living in the periphery, giving everything she’s got for someone else’s better tomorrow…that is the woman I want to follow into the unknown. Chart our own path, design our own future, create our happiness.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“So, you’ve mentioned,” he says dryly.
“And you’re still in the Army.”
“For less than 6 months.”
“For real?”
“For realsies.” I laugh at his answer, burying my face in his chest and soaking in everything that he is.
“I don’t think…” I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I think it’s the responsible, adult thing to do. “I don’t think starting a romantic relationship right now is a good idea. You are leaving in less than two weeks, I’m growing a human, and this all sounds absolutely wonderful and terrifyingly sudden.”
His jaw ticks, his eyes moving over my shoulder. He nods and looks back at me, his expression determined. “We write, we talk on the phone when I’m able, we get to know one another…and then when I am discharged, free and clear from Uncle Sam, this,” he points between us, “is happening.”
“All you GGMC men are the same,” I tease, knowing I’ve heard this speech before, worded differently but the sentiment is the same.
“When you look into a woman’s eyes and see your future…when every cell in your body screams for her…when you know that you would do insane and dangerous things to keep her, you tie her to you anyway you can.”
“Uh…sure. Yeah. That.” I blink a few times, and my brain comes back online. “We’ve acknowledged that we like each other. That needs to be enough right now, Mr. Commitment. We have a lot of hurdles to jump over in the coming months.” He doesn’t like it, that much is obvious, but he nods curtly in agreement. “And… um…I would appreciate it, if you’re serious, if you could refrain from…”
“Woman,” he growls, dipping to run his nose along mine, before he whispers harshly in my ear, “did you not just hear my grand declaration? I haven’t been with anyone for a while, but even if I had, the moment I saw you sitting at the dinner table I was yours.”
I decide to be honest with him, “I haven’t been interested in…since…but I’ve had a crush on you since I met you.”
Cocky Elazar is back, front and center. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. But…I…the sex worries me.” Concern morphs his face in an instant, followed quickly by anger, but I know for certain it’s not directed at me. “Full disclosure, I know what you told Conrad, but you should know, I can’t…I won’t perform oral sex. It’s…just the thought of it brings back…”
“Shh.” He drags me against his chest again, his arms circling me tight, anchoring me to the here and now. I cling to him, knowing he’s the only thing keeping me from floating away into the unforgiving past. “You never, NEVER, need to do anything you don’t want to. And you don’t need to justify yourself to me either. I meant every word I said to Con. Your sexual potential is not why we’re having a heart to heart on the side of the road.”
“I don’t want to hold you responsible for someone else’s actions—”
“Recognizing and establishing your own limits is not punishing me.” He leans back with a wry grin. “Do you have any allergies?” What?
“Uh…yeah. Avocados.”
His dark eyes widen in surprise, “Really?” Shaking his head, he continues, “Never mind. You’re allergic to avocados. Because I care about your wellbeing, I will never give you anything with avocados in it.”
“Thanks?”
He rolls his eyes, “I care about your wellbeing, I will never push you to suck my dick. You’re allergic to fellatio.” He pinches my chin gently between his fingers, “Is it limited to you performing oral? Can I lick your pussy? Or is that off the table too?”
“Oh.” I never really thought about him doing it. I just figured if I didn’t do it for him, he wouldn’t reciprocate. Only now, the thought of him between my legs, his tongue extended…mmm. “Just me, I think? You can fellate to your heart’s content.”
His smile stretches until his teeth are on display, “If that changes before, during, after, don’t be afraid to tell me. Be prepared, though, when I’m back for good, I plan to spend quite a long time between those thick thighs.” His expression softens as he takes in the tomato red blush that I can feel has taken over my face. “For now, let’s get back in the cage, and get to Morgantown before Dru starts following the scent of food.”
“She’s even more rabid with all those pregnancy hormones.”
“God, save us all.”