Chapter 21 #2
Pippa hisses by his side, and right at this moment, I think it’s her that Doc should be most afraid of, especially when I confirm, “She was younger than Trip is now when it started.” Wiping a hand over my brow, I come clean.
“I like her, Saint, you know that. I know you’ve been suspicious of me for a while.
My intentions toward her have always been innocent because, as I thought she was untouched, she was out of bounds.
When she told me Trip was her boy, I fuckin’ lost it.
” Shaking my head, I admit, “Said things that should never have been aired in the heat of the moment. Accused her of being promiscuous when she was just a kid, of abandoning her son and taking him away from Doc. Before I knew Doc was not only his son’s, but Trip’s mother’s father, I even fucking suggested he had done the right thing in raising him as his son.
” I look my VP dead in the eye. “That’s why I called you and Pippa over.
I was going to throw her out on her ass, and needed someone to watch Trip while I was getting rid of her.
” I swallow hard. “I was even going to return the boy to that monster of a man.”
Saint hisses air in through his teeth. “Right now, I want to punch you in the face.”
Even though I’m not healed from the blow landed by Freak, I’d willingly accept his punishment. Even physical pain won’t mend the agony in my heart, but it could momentarily dull it.
“I’d deserve it,” I tell him, knowing nothing he could do would equate to what I’ve done to Bronwyn. I’ve fucking destroyed her.
With his head shaking side to side, his long hair swinging, he snarls, “Believe me, Short, you’re this far from me punching your lights out.
” He holds his finger and thumb a fraction of an inch apart.
“But first, I want to hear more. Sounds like one fuck of a story she’s told you, and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker.
She could be fuckin’ with you, getting your sympathy to do exactly what you’re proposing.
Getting her the protection of the club, and just to prevent her and the boy from going back to her father. ”
“You didn’t see or hear her, pouring her fuckin’ heart out.” I scoff. “She’d have to be an Oscar-winning actor to put that shit on. You know her, Saint. Do you really believe she’s been putting on an act all along?”
He simply stares at me. I can’t read what he’s thinking, or whether he’s just leaving the ball in my court for now.
“I believe her, VP.” It seems the right time to give him the respect of his title.
“Look, I jumped to the wrong conclusion, put two and two together when those numbers weren’t even part of the equation.
Then I started to listen and heard the truth.
Saint, she isn’t lying. If you think about it, everything she says makes sense.
Doc was struck off because he couldn’t keep his hands off female patients.
It stands to reason he was also stepping over the line at home.
And, we didn’t know Doc had a son. In fact, no one does.
Something he definitely wanted to keep hidden. ”
Saint’s expressions are changing rapidly as he processes what he’s just been told. “Has Doc been abusive to the boy? Did he attack him last night? Was that the reason she’s come running?”
Again, shaking my head, I reply, “There doesn’t seem to be a physical mark on him, or not that I’ve seen. But, Saint, that boy’s not been treated right.”
“Why last night then?” Pippa, content so far to listen and leave the questions to her man, asks softly. “Why did Bronwyn bring the boy and herself to the compound last night? The abuse has obviously been going on for years, so why has the situation escalated now?”
Fuck it, but I hadn’t realised the door behind me had opened until a small voice interjects, “Because Dad was going to make hot chocolate. For Trip.”
And fuck me, I only just manage to turn, so my vomit ends up splashing into the bushes lining the path, and not all over my VP’s boots.
With me out of it for a moment, it’s Saint who rounds on her, his voice brusque as he asks, “And why was that a problem? Kid allergic or something?”
She stands up to my VP and answers, her hands clenched into fists, and her face tight.
“It was what he gave me when he wanted me pliant. Hot chocolate laced with Rohypnol. It would stop Trip from having a meltdown when he did to him what he’d done to me, when I had just turned eight years old.
” Her soulless delivery makes Saint rear back as Bron’s voice only grows firmer. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
Pippa might not be law enforcement anymore, but she’s still got the analytical skills she’s taken from that employment. Gently, as if probing an unwilling witness, she queries, “How did you manage to get away? I mean, if that was his intention, how did you stop him from following through?”
Bronwyn proves she can stand up to interrogation. “Dad and I got into an argument. He laid into me. By the time he’d finished, he was too wound up and shelved the idea.” She shrugs. “Maybe he knew I’d fight him to hell before I’d let him put a hand on my son. I called Short, and the rest you know.”
In the ensuing silence, I open the door, indicating to Bronwyn she should go inside, then I usher Saint and Pippa in, following them and closing the door behind me.
Saint and Pippa take the sofa, though Saint sits down and immediately shifts over, raising his ass slightly to glare at the offending spring.
I motion for Bron to take the recliner, and then stand with my back to the wall, arms folded.
The VP rubs his brow and is the first to break the weighty silence. “Trip’s really your son?” he asks, tentatively, as if he’s having trouble accepting it.
“I think I should know,” Bronwyn answers him haughtily. “I clearly remember twenty hours of agony, me crying, pleading for help while pushing a bowling ball out of my vagina with no drugs and only Dad by my side. My own father stitched me up after the birth.”
“Christ,” Pippa says, wincing. Being pregnant herself, she’s got to feel empathy.
For his part, Saint pales.
Choosing my timing, I make my request once more. “I want to claim Bronwyn, take her as my ol’ lady, and Trip as my kid. I want to bring them under the club’s protection.”
Bronwyn’s staring at me wide-eyed, making me realise I should have explained my thinking to her first.
After giving me a contemplative look for a moment, Saint pats his pockets. “I need a smoke. Come with me, Short?”
For one, Saint wasn’t ever much of a smoker and gave up when Pippa knew she was expecting. For another, he’s an officer, and I’m just a member. I can’t call him out on his excuse to talk to me outside, in private.
Pippa glances at me. “Short, have you got decaf coffee or anything?” I know it’s her way of saying she’ll be staying inside with Bronwyn.
Decaf? I’m not even sure the prospect bought the real stuff. “Knock yourself out looking. Prospect did the grocery shopping.”
“Come on, Bron. Let’s go see what we can find to drink.”
Certain that Bron’s in good company, I hold my head high as I follow the VP out into the front yard. I’m going to fight for what I think is right, and I’ll counter every objection he throws at me.
Saint rubs his hands against his face, then draws his cheeks down and simply stares toward me. I hold my ground, letting him think, holding my tongue until he speaks.
“Wish you could have told me what I was walking into. Fuck, Short. Even hearing the highlights was hard.”
“I did warn you,” I remind him. “And believe me, the totality was worse hearing it first-hand. But hell, Brother, I can’t believe what she’s gone through.
Men might have put a bullet through their head well before now, for suffering even half of it.
Yet her? She’s still alive, still standing, functioning in the real world, and letting no one suspect a thing. They kept her quiet with threats.”
Thoughtfully Saint nods. “Had to be something like that. Did the abuse continue after the pregnancy?”
“I didn’t ask. I don’t even want to think about it. But I just know she can’t ever go back. Neither her nor Trip. They’re the innocent parties. They didn’t ask for any of this. That’s why I want them to have the best protection they can, which means becoming the Kings’ property.”
“By taking her as your ol’ lady?” He barks a laugh. “Not you, Short. You’re not the settling down type.”
“Neither were you until…” I tilt my head behind me, indicating the doorway.
“Pippa’s my fuckin’ one,” he growls. “Bronwyn? She’s even further out of your league, than I previously thought after what I heard tonight.”
“She’s not a virgin.” My teeth grind as I voice the words.
“No?” He waves his hand in the direction of the house.
“If she’s telling the truth,” he holds up his hand to stop me from interrupting, “well, let’s assume she is.
I’ll break it down for you if you haven’t connected the dots already.
She’s been abused for almost all of her life.
She’d need more gentle handling than the most chaste virgin, and if you couldn’t handle a woman untouched, how the fuck are you going to deal with her?
” He places a hand on my shoulder. “I know you, man.” He chuckles softly.
“You’re not exactly discreet in the club.
I’ve seen your kinks and your desire for control.
You haven’t got it in you to go at the pace she’d need. ”
“Fuckin’ sex is the last thing on my mind,” I rasp.
“I just want both her and the boy away from her, his, fuck it, their father. I want them untouchable, and if I’ve got to step up to achieve that, I’ll do it.
” As Saint goes to speak, this time it’s my palm that’s raised to stop him.
“Doc depends on the money from the club. He wants to get paid? He’ll have to keep working.
He’ll just have to learn his daughter and son are out of bounds. ”
“And you think I want a man like him anywhere near the club after what I’ve heard tonight?” Saint’s shaking his head at me. “My woman’s going to have a baby. And you want him treating you when you know he’s a pedophile?”
Shrugging, I answer, “We’re all adults, and you knew he was handsy with females, yet you let him touch Pippa.”
“She wasn’t mine then,” he snarls. “And we put a stop to that game pretty fuckin’ fast.” Again, his head moves side to side. “I told you to stay away from her. Yet you had to get involved. Fuck knows what Prez will have to say about this, or any brother who sits around the table.”
I fist my hands. “Are you telling me to walk away from her? Leave her and Trip to go back to a family like that?”
“Of course, I’m fuckin’ not. Just thinking how much easier it would have been had we never found out about it. Then we could just have gone on with our lives.”
“With a fuckin’ wrong going on behind closed doors.” My jaw is clenched as I look at him. “What we don’t know doesn’t hurt, right, Brother?”
Saint’s chest puffs out, but even as I prepare myself for our conversation to turn physical, he deflates in front of me.
“Not what I’m saying, but fuck knows how we’re going to handle it.
Those kids have suffered enough.” He takes a breath.
“Now we know, there’s no way to condone what’s going on.
The Kings don’t let harm come to women and children.
I see only two options. We somehow protect them by getting them far away from here, with one of our other chapters, perhaps?
That would allow us to keep Doc working for the club.
” I open my mouth to protest, but he pre-empts me.
“Which, of course, would be condoning his crimes, right down to aiding and technically abetting what’s already been done.
Or we get rid of a pedophile, putting him six feet under.
” He looks up and meets my eye. “Short, I’ll speak to Bullseye. We’ll see what we can do for them.”
“Me claiming them is putting them under the club’s protection,” I obstinately point out. There’s no way I want them to leave, be out of my sight, and be somewhere I can’t help them.
“And how’s that going to look for you? Being tied down to a girl who won’t fuck, and a boy who can’t talk. Fuck, even his problems make sense now. He’s a victim of incest. Aren’t they all born retarded?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with the boy, only that he needs professional help he’s not been getting up to now.
Maybe even a mother’s love, which he’s been denied, might help him.
Retarded? I advise you not to use that word.
Different? Special needs? Let’s talk about it in those terms.” I don’t even know why I’m defending him.
But when I’d done the only thing I could to stop his fists whaling on Bronwyn, I’d acted instinctively in holding him tight.
And it had fucking worked, even though Bronwyn had expected differently.
Perhaps I have something I can bring to the table to help him.
Maybe it’s because I see something of myself in a boy who’s been abused by his father. Perhaps not sexually up to now, but being locked in a fucking closet until he calmed down. Yeah, I know all about fathers who don’t give a damn about their kid’s feelings.
I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a part of me that didn’t want to help.
Everyone needs chances, don’t they?
Saint’s been staring at me while I’ve been lost in my head. He clears his throat to get my attention. “I can see you care for them both. As I said, I’ll speak to Prez in the morning. Lay the groundwork for you to plead your case.”
Though I called him over to help me deal with a deceitful bitch taking advantage of her father, after her admissions, my thoughts had done a one-eighty, and I’d ended up pleading her case rather than throwing her out.
I’m still glad he’s here. I offer my hand, and he takes it, pulling me into him and slapping my back.
As I reciprocate the gesture, I think he could be a good ally.
Maybe his hearing it all tonight will help me in my inevitable meeting with Bullseye tomorrow.
And, after him, he might prove useful, providing backup.
Fuck knows how what I’m proposing will go down with the rest of the club.