Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Lola
A fter ten hours and half a dozen pee breaks, I pull up outside the mother chapter and park.
I leave my bag in the car—just in case I need to make a quick exit—and walk the short distance to the gates where a prospect comes over to meet me.
“Can I help you?”
I hesitate, wondering if Havoc will even listen to me.
He tends to react first. “I’m here to see Nevaeh.”
“She expecting you?”
“No, but it’s important I talk to her.”
He pulls out his phone, giving me a pointed look.
“Name?”
“Lola.”
He nods and takes a few steps away to make the call.
I bite my lip, waiting for him to return, trying not to think of the time or I’ll spiral.
I should be okay, as long as I’m back before anyone notices.
The only person who might realize I’m gone—besides Driller—is Gunther.
But if he doesn’t see me today, he’ll probably just assume I’m not feeling peopley again.
No way he’d think I’ve taken off to the mother chapter.
“God, what am I doing?” I ask myself for the millionth time.
If Driller finds out I’m gone, no excuse on the planet will save me.
The prospect steps in front of the gate, snapping me out of my increasingly panicked thoughts.
He unlocks it and motions for me to come inside.
I slip through and wait as he closes them.
He moves around me, taking me in.
“You armed?”
I frown.
“No. I didn’t even bring a bag.” My face flushes as my stomach growls, a reminder that I need to eat something other than crackers.
He opens his mouth to say something but turns at the sound of footsteps.
“Why are you here, Lola? I have nothing to say to you.” Havoc’s cold voice cuts through the quiet.
I flinch at the sound, my palms beginning to sweat as vomit rushes up the back of my throat.
I hate that after everything, he still has the power to hurt me.
I turned myself inside out for him, and he just walked away.
I don’t have time for a pity party.
I promised myself I’d do this one last thing, and then I was done.
Whatever love I had left for him lays in shattered pieces at my feet.
“I came to warn you. Khan and Driller are planning something,” I tell him, sliding my hand over my stomach—thinking about what Driller said—wishing I knew more.
“Aren’t they always? Besides, shouldn’t you be beside your old man, cheering him on?” Havoc asks.
His words hit me like a slap, and I jerk back, my face burning.
“You don’t know me, Havoc. You never did, or you’d never have asked me that,” I say, my voice cracking—but I don’t look away from him.
I never should’ve come, but I let some stupid sense of loyalty override common sense.
Loyalty only works when it’s returned.
And Havoc’s shown me exactly what his loyalty’s worth.
“You’re right, I don’t know you. The woman I loved was a fucking lie. Go home, Lola. You’ve caused enough damage.”
I suck in a breath.
Just when I think he can’t hurt me anymore, he finds one more way to twist the knife.
I don’t notice his old lady is in front of me until she reaches up and slides my glasses off.
“What the fuck?” Havoc snaps, stalking toward me.
I brace for a blow, but it never comes.
His focus is entirely on the purple swelling of my eye.
“Who did this?”
“Who do you think?”
Silence falls and crackles between us, making me want to scream.
“He hit you anywhere else?”
“You believe me?” The words slip out, surprised.
It would mean something if he did.
He shrugs. “I don’t care if you’re lying to me or not, but Driller never did know how to take care of his toys.”
I flinch back so hard I almost fall—and all he does is watch me with that cold look in his eyes.
“Lola, do you need to see a doctor?” Nevaeh’s soft voice asks.
I stare at Havoc, betrayal choking me as I feel my insides turn to dust. Fuck this and fuck him.
I’m done.
“Lola, think about the baby. Do you need to see a doctor?” Nevaeh presses.
Fighting back tears, I look at her and take in a shaky breath.
“If I go to the hospital, it’ll only make it worse. We’ll be okay. Nugget’s moving around, so he’s fine.”
It’s true.
Driller might not think twice about hurting me, but he hasn’t laid a hand on my stomach—yet.
I’m not stupid. I know the baby gives him even more power over me.
If he has my kid and threatens to hurt him, there’s not much I wouldn’t do to protect him, even if that means whoring myself to him.
That’s why, when I’m done here, I need to run.
Havoc pulls out his phone and makes a call.
The second person on the other end answers, he barks into the phone.
“Head to the clinic. I’m bringing someone in for you to look at.” He hangs up without giving them a chance to say a word, and I shake my head.
“I have to go before they notice I’m missing.” Driller might not be there right now, but he’ll be back—even if it’s just to sneak in and remind me I’m still at his mercy.
“We have a clinic here onsite, Lola. It won’t be much longer. Wouldn’t you rather know for sure the baby’s okay before you go?” Nevaeh says softly.
I open my mouth to tell her the baby’s fine, but Havoc cuts in before I can, “For once in your fucking life, stop being selfish and let Hannibal check you over. Don’t worry, he’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.”
“Havoc.” Nevaeh scowls at him.
Then she steps in front of him and gently takes my hand, catching me off guard.
“Look, I don’t know you. You don’t know me. The history between you two is just that, history . Right now, all that matters is getting you and your baby checked out. I promise nothing will happen to either of you while you’re here.”
I close my eyes for a moment, feeling a tear slip free.
The longer I stay and fight with them, the longer it’ll take for me to get back on the road.
With that thought, my shoulders sag in defeat.
“Okay.”
“Okay, good. You okay to walk?”
“I’m fine,” I say, but they don’t look convinced.
“Lock the gates and watch yourself,” Havoc tells the prospect, who I’d forgotten was even standing there, as Nevaeh leads me away.
“Driller might come looking for her, and he won’t give a shit about starting trouble.”
I don’t hear the rest, Nevaeh’s voice drowning it out the farther away we get.
I’m not really listening to what she’s saying—I’m too busy taking everything in.
She leads me through a giant warehouse that seems to house all the brothers’ bikes, but it’s what’s on the other side that leaves me speechless .
It looks like something straight out of one of those old westerns my grandfather used to watch.
A wave of sadness hits me.
He passed away when I was still in high school.
He had been the only one who supported my decision to stay with Havoc.
He said he used to look at my grandmother the same way Havoc looked at me.
I’m almost glad he’s gone.
I wouldn’t want him to see how that beautiful life he dreamed of for me turned to ash.
A few people pass us.
Some look at me curiously, while others glare—obviously recognizing me, though I couldn’t name a single one of them.
It’s bizarre being hated by strangers, all because they believed the lies people told about me.
Lies nobody ever bothered to question because in this world, a brother’s word is their bond, and loyalty means everything.
What a fucking joke.
Nobody ever asked me what really happened.
And when I tried to tell them, I was silenced—with fists and threats.
When Havoc first started prospecting, I was hesitant.
I wasn’t against it, not really, but we were supposed to go out and experience the world first and live a little.
I didn’t know much about club life beyond what I’d seen on Sons of Anarchy , but I knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Still, I was young and in love and thought my love would be enough to hold us together.
I was so na?ve—something Driller made painfully clear in my hallway five years ago.
I’ve spent years hoping that Driller would fuck up and end up dead in a ditch somewhere.
Then I could finally break free of the fucking nightmares and get away from this godforsaken club.
“This is it,” Nevaeh says, pointing to the building just in front of us.
She steps in front of me and pulls open the door, holding it wide for me.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t an actual clinic.
Back home, they have a small room they use, but it’s only good for a quick patch-up.
This place looks more like a hospital.
I pause when a man steps out of one of the rooms and heads towards us.
I tense as I take him in.
I vaguely remember meeting him the one and only time I went to Sturgis—back when the club was still new to me and I wasn’t a pariah.
The man had scared the shit out of me back then.
It had nothing to do with how intimidating he is—though yeah, he definitely is.
He’s tall, maybe even taller than Havoc, so probably around six-four or five.
He’s not quite as big as Havoc, at least not now that Havoc’s bulked up, but that doesn’t make him look any less lethal.
He might be leaner, but I can tell by how his T-shirt clings to him and the way he fills out his jeans that he’s pure muscle.
His dark hair’s messy in that effortlessly sexy, just-rolled-out-of-bed kind of way that men can pull off, the ends curling around the nape of his neck.
I have the strangest urge to reach out and touch it to see if it’s just as soft as it looks.
I don’t, of course. And as his gaze sweeps over me, I remember what used to scare me about Hannibal—his eyes.
As good-looking as he is, it doesn’t hide the fact that his eyes are empty.
I get the distinct feeling he could slit my throat as easily as he could hold my hand, and the only thing keeping him leashed is the cut on his back.
“Lola,” he says, his gaze moving to my swollen eye.
“Hello, Hannibal,” I reply softly.
Something flickers across his face—something that almost looks like curiosity.
But it’s gone in a moment, so I can’t be sure.
Not that it matters.
As long as he doesn’t hurt my baby, I couldn’t care less if he was the Antichrist.
“I hear you need to be checked out. Are you okay with just me, or would you like Nevaeh in the room too?”
Nevaeh might’ve been nice enough, but I don’t want her in the exam room with me.
“I’m fine with it just being you,” I say, surprising them both.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind, honest,” Nevaeh offers.
I smile, though it feels brittle as hell.
I’m sure she’d love to come in so she can tell Havoc everything she sees and hears.
But this is my body, dammit, and my baby, and I don’t want my ex’s woman anywhere near either right now.
“No, I’m good. But thank you.”
She looks between me and Hannibal, then shrugs.
“Okay.”
Hannibal motions to the open door closest to us, so I head through it and stop near a bed that looks just like one you’d find in a doctor’s office.
The door clicks shut behind me, and I turn to face Hannibal.
“You have anything on under that sweatshirt?”
I swallow.
“A tank top.”
“Take the sweatshirt off. You can leave the tank top on.”
“Look, this isn’t really necessary.”
He ignores me and pulls a machine over to the bed.
That’s when I realize it’s an ultrasound machine.
“Let’s get a look at your baby.”
I hesitate, knowing it’ll lead to more questions.
Driller refuses to let me go to my prenatal appointments without him, even though he just sits out in the waiting room.
He’s missed the last two appointments, which means I have too.
I’m desperate to see my boy again.
I take off my hat and place it on the chair by the door, then shrug out of my sweatshirt and lay it with my hat.
Taking a deep breath, I turn and walk back to the bed, wondering how the heck I’m supposed to get up on it.
Why the hell do they make these things so damn tall?
I gasp when Hannibal moves up behind me and his hands land on my hips.
Before I can say anything, he picks me up and sits me on the bed.
“Lay back and get comfortable.”
I do as he says, still kinda in shock.
When his hands touch the hem of my tank, I grip the edge of the bed.
“Just need to move this out of the way,” he murmurs, sliding it up to just under my boobs—boobs I didn’t bother covering with a bra.
I look away, feeling my cheeks heat.
When his hands move to the fly of my jeans, I reach out to stop him.
He looks at me, and something in his eyes makes me loosen my grip—but he doesn’t loosen his.
Without breaking eye contact, he unbuttons my fly and lowers the zipper, exposing my belly completely.
My breathing turns shallow, my shock bleeding into fear.
I don’t think he’s here to hurt me, but I already know I suck at reading people.
“Now, this will be cold.”
I turn my head when I realize he’s not touching me anymore.
Instead, he squirts some gel directly onto my stomach, making me flinch.
Picking up the wand, he gently presses it into the gel and starts moving it around, spreading it over my bump before pressing more firmly.
My eyes flick to the screen as the rhythmic thudding of my baby’s heartbeat fills the room.
I relax a little, the steady beat the most soothing sound in the world.
“This isn’t my area, but from what I can tell, everything looks good. Your son looks healthy. Shit—I didn’t mean to blurt that out.”
“It’s okay. I know I’m having a boy. Driller doesn’t, though, so please don’t say anything.”
He doesn’t ask me why.
He just reaches over and wipes the gel from my stomach.
“There anything else you want me to check?”
His eyes move over my bruises, but I shake my head.
“No. I just wanted to see that my baby was okay.”
“It will only take a few?—”
“I said no. My son is all that matters.” I cup my stomach with both hands.
Hannibal’s quiet for a second.
I can see him studying me out of the corner of my eye, but I refuse to look at him.
“It will only get worse, you know.”
I don’t say anything.
He thinks he has me all figured out—but he has no idea.
“Why do you stay?”
It’s that question—the one that makes me, and every woman trapped in an abusive relationship, want to scream.
I turn to look at him, his question lighting a fire inside me.
“Because choices are a privilege I don’t have.”