Chapter 2 #2
Luckily, Marissa already thought Buzz was weird, so she didn’t seem to analyze his words much. Besides, Junior started crying, so she was in a rush to get him home for his bath.
I decided right then and there I’d stay away from Rebel, and I’ve been successful so far.
“I see Angie’s still keeping an eye on you,” Claw remarks as he calls.
All of us glance at the two women at the bar. Angie looks upset while Rebel animatedly explains something to her.
“Don’t remind me,” the Prez grumbles. “She’s been on my case ever since the thing with Maya.”
“What happened?” Truck asks.
He’s a great VP and basically runs the club's finances and stuff, but doesn’t engage in gossip or other people’s business.
“She caught Prez fucking Maya last month,” Twitch reveals a little too gleefully.
“I don’t know why she’s making a big deal of it,” Prez sighs. “She doesn’t even like anal, so I wasn’t really cheating.”
Some of the men nod, while Truck looks incredulous. All I can think of is how much Rebel liked taking it up the ass.
Fuck.
I fold and tell the boys I have to take a piss. On my way upstairs, I catch Rebel’s eye and tilt my chin up. She nods almost imperceptibly, and ten minutes later, I’m fucking her brains out with more anger than I even knew I had.
On the drive home, the last bit of my restraint crumbles. I guess I’ve successfully avoided seeing Marissa and DJ for so long that I can pretend they aren’t real.
I finally decide to just stop denying myself the pleasure of unloading my every worry, frustration, and care in the world into Rebel’s hot, slick pussy.
***
“You know it makes me feel cheap when you just leave me like this,” Rebel says in a petulant tone.
She’s sitting on the floor in front of my workstation with a pearl necklace oozing down her perky tits.
“What do you want from me, Bell?” I snap angrily as I tuck my dick back into my boxers.
“Do you want us to be in a relationship? Do you want to be my friend, my fuck buddy, my ol' lady? Do you even know what you want? One day, you’re grinding up on me at the clubhouse, and then the next day, at the barbecue, you tell your brother that we’re just friends? Which is it?”
“You’re the one who kissed me first! You came up to my room that night! You’re the one who’s been fucking me every single day before or after work for the last month, all the while having an ol’ lady at home, so you tell me!”
“I’m not gonna kick Marissa to the curb, upend my son’s life, and cause potential custody issues for myself only for you to disappear on me again,” I say bitterly. “If you can’t guarantee a level of commitment to this relationship, don’t even come at me with that bullshit.”
Bell bites her lip as she looks away.
“That’s what I thought. Merry fucking Christmas,” I tell her, and storm out of the shop. It’s her turn to clean up anyway.
It’s Friday, Christmas Eve. I walk into the house smelling of cigarettes and sex, and I find Marissa sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for me. She looks so lost before she notices me standing in the doorway.
Her face is bare, her hair in a braid, and her pajamas are Christmas-themed. My heart stops for a moment.
She knows.
She’s gonna look at me with those tear-filled baby blues, and she’s gonna tell me we’re over. I feel my body panicking at the thought. I don’t want things to change. Or do I?
“Hey, baby,” she says, and I am awash with relief.
Her innocent smile makes me feel like a jerk. I quickly transform that guilt into anger. Maybe my road name should be Alchemist.
How can she not see that something's wrong with her man? Is she so absorbed in being a mom that she’s stopped caring for our relationship?
“Hey, Riss,” I give her a small wave, careful not to get close enough for her to smell Rebel or the cigarettes.
She’s been on my case even before the pregnancy, but since Junior’s been born, she’s militant about it.
Doesn’t let me take him to indoor events at the clubhouse, which is a little too much if you ask me.
Prez and Bell and a million other kids grew up in clubhouses and around cigarettes, and they’re fine.
But no, Marissa acts as if our kid is made of glass.
The kid I had conceived with Rebel would have for sure taken his first steps in the clubhouse. I smile despite the pain that slices through me at the thought of him.
“What are you doing up so late?” I ask, pushing the what-ifs aside like I’d learned to do a long time ago.
“I was wrapping presents and preparing the food to take to your mom’s tomorrow, and then saw the time and decided to wait up for you, like in the old days,” she smiles, but it’s small and uncertain. “Do you want me to fix you something? Are you hungry?”
“No, thank you. I ate at work.” Rebel’s pussy. I don’t know whether to cry or laugh at the thought. I’m a piece of shit. I try to be nice. “How was DJ today?”
Her eyes light up at the thought of him. “I had him try some of my avocado today. He made the silliest faces! Remind me to show you the video later.”
She is an awesome mom. Better than my own. “I will.”
I look away. Why is it so hard to have a conversation with her these days?
“Listen,” she starts, and I’m alarmed again.
“I know things have been crazy these past few weeks, with work and DJ, and everything, but I’ve missed being with you, just the two of us.
So I arranged for your mom and a babysitter to keep Junior for an evening so you and I can go to the club’s New Year’s party and just… cut loose for a night.”
“Oh wow. Thank you. That… ’s great.”
“Merry Christmas,” she beams, and for some reason, I remember how often I told her I loved her when she was pregnant.
We were as close as two people can be back then, with my baby growing under her heart. A little family.
I walk over to her and give her a hug, then freeze. She doesn’t seem to smell anything and just melts in my arms. Thank God.
What if she starts kissing me? Shit.
Luckily, DJ starts wailing through the baby monitor, and Marissa shoots me an apologetic smile.
“Go, I’ll be right up too,” I tell her, relieved.
After my shower, I waste enough time in the bathroom to make sure they’re both asleep when I join them in bed. I carefully position my body as close to the edge as possible.
I stare at them for a long time. They look like a painting, Mother and Son.
I don’t wanna think about it anymore.