Chapter 27 The Prospect
The Prospect
Konan
Mom is on her date with the old guy. Luca and the brothers left this morning, after watching Victoria and Rudi drive off.
Warren is out, no doubt looking for where the Hades fucks are located, and King is stuck here babysitting the Mayor’s daughter.
Tension is taught between them, and I don’t plan on sticking around to witness their shit for the rest of the night.
The girl is strange and is a master of manipulation. I see straight through her thanks to my mother.
“I’m heading out. I’ll have my phone on me if you need anything.”
“Be safe,” King says without taking his eyes off Annabel.
I grab Rudi’s car keys and make sure to lock the gate after me. I’m glad Luca wanted Tor and the baby away from the city while he is gone. The pressure of protecting her, saving us from Luca’s wrath, is heavy to hold.
I drive across the city and find a parking spot across the street from the restaurant my mom’s having her date in.
Climbing out of the car, I lean against the hood and light a cigarette.
From my point, I have a clear view of Mom laying it on thick.
The old guy doesn’t stand a chance. When my mom sets her sights on a guy, nine times out of ten, they’re putty in her hands.
She moulds them into whatever she wants, though on a few occasions it’s blown back in her face.
When I was a kid, I could never help her when a guy would suss her out and go after her.
It wasn’t until I was fifteen, I learned how to defend her and could send the assholes on their way.
She hates being alone, but I learned a long time ago, she doesn’t like men either.
She can draw them in easily enough, but she makes them her toy to play with.
To drain financially dry, take what she can until things sour.
A baby’s cry distracts me from the fake date, and I look right and left.
It grows louder and I inhale on my cigarette as I see the woman from the swimming lesson.
Pippa was her name. The baby sounds in pain.
She holds the kid in her arms, her baby bag hanging off her shoulder.
She frantically keeps looking left and right, clearly worried.
Grinding out the cigarette under my boot, I head up the street.
I approach her cautiously. It’s late and this part of town isn’t the best to be out after dark. She’d be a prime target for anyone looking to mug someone for a little cash to get their next high.
“Hey, I’m Konan. You remember me from the pool?”
She looks me up and down. “Vaguely.”
“What are you doing out at this time?”
“He’s got a temperature and won’t stop crying. I’m waiting on a cab to take us to the hospital.”
“How long have you been waiting?”
“Long enough to think it’s not showing up.”
“I can take you. I have my car over across the street.”
She narrows her eyes but eventually nods as the baby’s cries start to pierce my eardrums.
She follows closely and I open the back door for her. She slides in and dumps her bag by her feet. She jiggles the baby on her lap, trying to soothe him.
Inside the car, the kid’s cries are deafening and don’t let up. By the time we reach the hospital, my ears are ringing. I park and jump out and open her door. She slides out and goes to lean back in for the bag. I grab it for her and lock the car.
“You don’t have to come in with us.”
“I don’t mind. I’ll carry this for you.”
She ignores me and walks into reception. She joins me in the waiting area, juggling the baby, a clipboard and a pen.
Unable to fill out forms with the kid crying, she sighs, looks at me for a few moments, and says, “Here, hold him while I fill this lot out.”
She doesn’t give me time to think of another solution. She plonks the kid on my lap and gives me no choice but to take hold of him.
I do what she did in the car, I bounce him up and down in my arms. It doesn’t help but feels like I’m doing something. An older woman across from us stares, judgement burning in her eyes.
“What?” I snap. “I’m sure you’ve seen a poorly baby cry before.”
Pippa lifts her head to see who I am talking to, and the older woman looks away, her pointy nose in the air.
“Don’t bother, if you say something to everyone who stares, you’ll get nothing done in the day.”
“He’s clearly not well, or he wouldn’t be here,” I mutter.
“If it isn’t their kid, they expect everyone else’s to be quiet. That much I have learned.”
She goes back to filling out the forms and I stand with the kid. Maybe if I pace, it will help him. It doesn’t but every time the older woman moves chairs, I make sure to walk past her.
When the doctor calls his name, I find myself walking with them, still holding the baby.
I step back once Pippa takes him back and sits with him on the hospital bed.
While the doctor checks him over, I slip out of the room and wait out in the hall.
I should leave but I hang around until she walks out with more tears in her eyes than the baby.
“Can you give me a ride home, please?”
“Sure.”
Wordlessly, I take the bag from her, and we walk in silence to the car. I don’t know what the doctor gave the kid, but he’s drifting off to sleep in her arms.
“I can’t do this. My sister was amazing with him. She would have known what to do. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You knew to bring him here. You did the right thing.”
“He’s teething,” she retorts.
“You’re not a doctor to know that, that’s what doctors are for, to tell you what’s wrong. You’re tired…”
“I’m tired every day. I can’t remember the last time I slept more than a couple of hours.”
Out of character, I drive her to the clubhouse. No one is there besides King and the Mayor’s daughter. It’s the middle of the night, they’ll most likely be in King’s room.
It occurs to me she is probably going to freak out when she realises I’m not taking her back to her place. She doesn’t know me. Wearing my cut, people always assume I’m the scum of the earth.
I get out and unlock the gate. I jump back in behind the wheel and drive into the club.
“Where are we?”
The fear in her voice hits me hard. “It’s where I live. You’ll be safe here, you have my word.”
“Why bring me here? I don’t know you.”
“I’m not a total stranger,” I counter parking the car back in its spot. “You’ve already said you’re exhausted. I’ll help you out.”
She doesn’t argue as she follows me into the kitchen. She looks around every nook and corner, asking, “How many people live here?”
I tally it up. “About ten of us, but all but one is out of town for a few days. It’ll be quiet for you.”
When we walk into the bar, she laughs. “This is why I shouldn’t be his guardian, I’ve brought him to a biker club.”
“You need help and I’m offering. It doesn’t matter where you are.”
I must be out of my mind. Luca sent Victoria to her hometown because he didn’t want her here alone. I have no place bringing her here when we could be attacked at any moment.
“You can have my room, I’ll sleep down here. If he wakes, come down and I’ll help you out.”
“It’s stupid to ask since I’m already here but can I trust you?”
“Yes.”
She’s quiet on the way up to my room and it dawns on me that she must be tired as all Hell, not thinking straight. She hasn’t asked me to take her home.
“Are the bed sheets clean?” She pauses, then adds, “You know what, I’m so tired, I don’t even care.”
She lays the kid in the middle of the bed and then curls up beside him.
“They are clean,” I tell her and grab my cell charger.
I turn around and she’s out for the count. The kid begins to cry, and I pick him up before he wakes Pippa. She doesn’t stir. I grab the kid’s bag and close the door behind us.
I head down the stairs and dump the bag on the bar. The kid’s cries scale down to a whimper and I walk around with him until he drifts off back to sleep.
The quietness is short lived. He wakes, but this time he doesn’t cry.
I root through his bag and find two clean bottles, diapers, wet wipes, changes of clothes, and a few toys.
I grab the most colorful one and wave it in front of the kid’s face.
He reaches out for it and kicks his feet out in excitement.
He grows bored pretty quickly and returns to whimpering.
When River cries, it’s mostly because he wants his milk. “Is that what you want?”
He obviously doesn’t answer but I’m sure I am right. Grabbing one of the bottles, I find a tub of milk Victoria uses. Reading over the instructions, I set to work. The kid’s cries grow louder while we wait for it to cool down.
“I thought I was hearing things or that Victoria had come back. What the fuck are you doing with a baby?”
Glancing over my shoulder, King is stood in the doorway.
“Don’t tell me you’ve kidnapped a kid, Prospect.”
I smirk. “Why the fuck would I steal a baby?”
He shrugs. “Fuck knows, why cut off a finger when you just needed a fingerprint to get into a phone,” he retorts. “Who the fuck knows why you do the shit you do.”
“Rest assured, King, I haven’t kidnapped a baby. I’m helping someone out. She’s asleep up in my room.”
“You didn’t kidnap her either, did you?”
I go to roll my eyes but stop. It is sort of what I did.
“She’s free to go when she wakes up,” is all I say.
“You’re meant to be getting Luca that warehouse,” he reminds me.
“I’m on it. Shit’s in play.” Picking up the bottle from the jug of cold water, I say, “Hold your wrist out.”
Frowning, he asks, “What the fuck for?”
“Gotta make sure the milk is warm.”
“How do you know this shit?” he asks sticking out his arm.
“I’ve watched Victoria and Rudi with River.”
“Don’t let Luca know you watch his old lady, he’ll cut your eyes out.”
This time I do roll my eyes. Like I stare at her like that.
“It’s warm,” he tells me.
“It doesn’t burn?”
“Nah, so if that’s all. I’m going back to bed.” He turns to leave when he stops and adds, “If your girl that you haven’t kidnapped is still here in a couple of days, let Luca know.”
He disappears and I take the kid in the bar and sit. He greedily sucks on the bottle as soon as the teat touches his lips.
This isn’t so hard.
My phone rings and the baby flinches. Trying to hold the bottle to his mouth in one hand and digging my phone out of my pocket with the other is a chore but I answer and put it on speakerphone, resting it on the table.
“Hey, my love, I’m just checking in.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“He’s asleep. I’m in his bathroom. I don’t want to wake him.”
None of these are images I want but with my mom, it could be worse.
“Did he ask you back or did you wheedle your way in?”
“He asked me, thank you. I don’t wheedle my way in anywhere.”
It amuses me when she huffs, offended, when I’ve seen her in action.
“Why do people pat babies backs after they’ve had a bottle?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m feeding a baby and he’s nearly finished his bottle.”
“It’s to burp them. You don’t want to pat too hard but not too softly either. Keep doing it until they bring up their wind. Now tell me why you’re feeding a baby? You haven’t made me a grandma and forgotten to tell me, have you?”
As always, advice first, questions after.
“No, I’m helping out a friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes, she’s getting some sleep while I watch out for the kid.”
“Okay, just remember babies are delicate. Don’t drop it or lose it. I’ve got to go.”
She hangs up and the kid starts sucking on air. I take the bottle away from him and sit him on my lap like Victoria does. It doesn’t take long for him to burp and I’m glad to see his eyes are heavy. I sit back in the chair and lay him against my chest. He’s out for the count just like his aunt.
A warm hand squeezes my arm and my eyes snap open. Pippa hovers to my side and the baby is still crashed out on my chest. Morning sun light streams through the windows and I look for the time. It’s nearly midday.
“How long have you had him down here?” she asks.
“About five minutes after you crashed.”
“You’ve been down here all night with him?” she gasps.
“He woke up a few times, but his temperature has gone down. He seems to be doing a little better.”
She goes to pick him up until I say, “Leave him to sleep. Go make yourself some breakfast, there’s plenty of shit in the fridge to choose from.” I jerk my chin in the direction of the kitchen.
Staring at me, she smiles and says, “Thank you.”
The kid wakes as I hear the coffee machine kicking on. “Your aunt is beautiful when she wakes up. You need to let her sleep more.”