Chapter Thirty-Three
TRAVIS
P regnant.
With a baby.
With my child.
This isn’t something I wanted. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
This baby will be a part of you and a part of me. This is us. Ours. We can’t throw that away.
Our chaos.
I roll onto my side. What have I done?
Fear was leading me. My past, haunting me. Is that enough of an excuse? I remember every vicious word I spoke. Every harsh attempt to put this on her. It worked. I succeeded. I can still see the moment my final dagger was struck, the part where I gave her some bullshit ultimatum I didn’t really mean. The part where she chose it.
It?
The baby.
My baby.
Fuck . I push myself to sit up, dragging a weary hand down my rugged face, my feet hanging off the side of the bed.
Her spirit broke. Everything that shone so brightly, I doused it with my being. Watched it fade to black before me all because this wasn’t something I asked for. Who the fuck do I think I am?
I didn’t want a baby. I still don’t think I have it in me. But I want the woman I love. That will never change. What I did to her, though… there’ll be no coming back from that. I can’t take that back.
Not now .
Not ever.
Forever. I promised her that when I asked her to marry me. And now I find myself alone. Lost.
I realise the gravity of my absence the moment I check my phone. Thirty-three missed calls. Twenty messages. Everyone’s been looking for me. Perhaps they still are? Who knows. It’s been two days since I walked out the house. Two days without Mollie.
That’s it.
I put an end to our relationship. Our future together. She knows more than anyone actions speak louder than words. The way I left. I know I’ve hurt her.
My phone rings in my hand and Rocco’s name across the screen makes me shut my eyes. “Fuck,” I sigh to myself. Answering the call, I hold it away from my ear. “Yeah?”
“Fucking, yeah? That’s all you’ve got to say to me?”
“Yeah,” I say again, this time rubbing my eyes, feeling the heavy, dull thud behind them.
“You’ve fucked up big time.”
I know.
“You even know what day it is?”
I look at my phone. “Fuck.” I was thinking about Mollie. Not the deal I missed. How could I be so fucking stupid?
“Yeah. Fuck. You fucking wanker. Now, where are you?”
I sigh. “Travellers Lodge.”
“How the fuck did you end up there?”
I rode my bike until the fog began to clear. Until the miles drowned out the noise. “I’m heading back.” I stand. Collapse. The thud making me shout.
“Travis?”
“I’m okay,” I mumble, clutching at my rib.
“I don’t give a fuck. Can you ride?”
Great . Looking down at my legs, I’m seeing double. I let out a tired breath. “No.” Damn it. I need to move. I’ve already missed the meet. Maybe they managed to push it back or fob Matthew off. Stall him until we were both there.
“I’m on my way. You need to get yourself up and dressed. A lot’s happened. ”
Don’t I fucking know it.
He hangs up, and I manage to get off the floor, heading to the bathroom. I end up stumbling on an empty bottle of Vodka. Of course. I drank the whole thing in one go. I was shitfaced. A mess. But I forgot. If only for two days, I forgot. The pain, it wasn’t there. The look in Mollie’s eyes, gone from my mind.
Until thinking about it makes me see it.
I should get another bottle. Start again. Remind myself why I never wanted any of this. Love hurts. Feelings hurt. But to have lived and not experienced it? Isn’t that a crime?
You’re about to get something you don’t deserve.
She’s right. I don’t deserve it. It really is that simple.
Vodka.
No.
Bathroom.
Battling with myself, I wash my face and swallow some water, my mind beginning to go round and round in circles. I start the torturous process of reliving what I said and what I did, wishing I could go back and change how I handled it. The cycle goes on and on like a loop.
Unsure how long I sit there, I only move when the telling sound of Rocco’s bike pulls up outside the hotel. I grab my things off the side and step outside into the dead of night.
Rocco shuts off his engine, his eyes firmly locked to where I’m standing. He assesses me. His eyes scrunching when he sees my face. Is that worry?
No one else is around. The faint sound of cars on the motorway can be heard. Their distant headlights proving how far I rode. We’re miles away from home. At least an hour’s ride from the clubhouse. Is that how long I sat and tortured myself for after taking his call?
“You look like shit.”
I guess so.
His tone isn’t as harsh as I was expecting. “I feel it,” I reply. Grateful he isn’t coming down hard on me.
“Then this shouldn’t hurt.” I look up but I’m too late. His fist slams through my face, knocking me to my arse. My nose erupts, blood trickling to my top lip.
Blinking away the stars, I see him stand over me, slowly moving to hold out a hand. He’s angry. But more than anything, he’s here.
His shoulders drop when he drags me to my feet and he gets in front of me. If there’s anything I know about the man looking me up and down the way he is now, it’s that we—his men, the men who ride for him, mean the fucking world to him.
He’s the same height as me. Our eyes are in perfect alignment. “You’ve been here the whole time?”
Sometimes, our respect for brotherhood and leadership comes out in a way we know best. With our fists. I deserve so much more than one punch. I still have no idea what’s happened with Dean and the deal, but I can see that’s not how he’s going to handle me right now. Can he see my pain? Does he know what happened with Mollie?
I nod, delayed, and he shakes his head. “Why are you here?” I ask, one hand going to my pocket in need of a smoke. There are none.
Rocco sees, reaching into his cut and passing me his. “Seriously?”
Accepting one, I light it and taste the coppery twang on the end. I wipe the blood away with the back of my hand, sniffing, looking at him as I blow out the smoke. “I know I fucked up.”
“Yeah. You did.” He gets a text which he reads with a deep breath out. “You were supposed to be there.”
I take another inhale. “I’m sorry. Me and Mollie… we…” I don’t finish my sentence.
He looks toward the hotel. “You stayed here, away from everyone for two days because of something that happened between you and Mollie?”
My eyes slide to his, and he watches me, scrubbing a hand over his face. I can’t read his expression. I’m tired. But I can see him thinking. “It’s done.”
“Is that so?”
I nod.
“I’m guessing she left you?”
I let out a small snort of air. You’d think so. “It was me who left.”
He frowns. “Why?”
“Because she’s,” I grind my teeth, knowing I have to tell him, “she’s pregnant.” With my baby. “I’m going to be a dad.” My head drops. I’m ashamed I’m not happier. I’m also disgusted that I suggested she get rid of it.
Rocco takes me in, staring at me for a beat. I don’t miss the scornful look he gives me before he turns and swipes at his phone, bashing out a message to someone. “What did you do?”
When he turns, I smile, demented, before taking another long drag on the cigarette. “Told her I thought she tried to trap me.” I’m a cunt.
“And did she?”
I hate how much he’s making me talk. “I,” I turn around, “I don’t fucking know.”
After a few moments of silence, I walk to my bike, taking a seat.
“What’s really going on?” he asks, his voice hard.
I throw my cigarette to the ground. “Nothing I can’t handle. I just need a few days to get over it.” What will I do? Wallow? Pity myself like the old days? Drink? Jesus.
“Bullshit.” He clicks his teeth, sitting on his bike next to mine. “Sometimes you can’t handle these things or forget them. Some things stick with you. Rot you from the inside.”
He’s not looking at me. He’s staring into the distance. “You speaking from experience?”
Turning his head, he simply looks at me like I’m one of his men. No, scrap that, like I’m his family. I couldn’t be more grateful. “You have no idea.”
The corner of my lip twitches, my emotions catching. “What am I supposed to do?”
With a sigh, he replies, “That depends.”
“On?”
“What you want.”
I huff, my voice low and gravelly. “What I want got me into this mess.”
He sighs. “So what are you going to do to get yourself out of it?”
I hold my hands out. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do.”
Another sigh. “There’s always something.”
I turn to him. Wondering. Rocco doesn’t have a wife or a family. I know he was close to Dean’s mum. Used to take them money from Ronnie and food when times were tough. But I’ve never seen him with a woman. Come to think of it, I’ve never even heard him talking about a woman. Yet, when he stills and eventually looks my way, I recognise the look staring back at me. It’s pain. The kind of pain I’m feeling now. The kind of pain only a woman can bring. “What would you do?” I ask, aware I might be overstepping some sort of mark here .
Rubbing the back of his neck, he shrugs. “You love her?”
It’s more than that. “She’s mine.”
He gives me a half smile. “I didn’t realise it was that serious.”
It is. Or it was, anyway. “Yeah, well. It’s done now.”
“And the kid? You going to be done with them too?”
My lips roll between my teeth. “I have no fucking clue,” I say honestly. “I don’t want it.” I sigh heavily, my fingers curling tightly into fists. I hate how I sound. “Does that make me a bastard? Does that make me any less of a man?” I bite down hard, my bones beginning to shake. “Because she wants it, and like a fucking idiot, I made her choose. Like she was ever going to pick me over the life inside her. She hates me. I saw it in her eyes before I closed the door on her.”
Rocco frowns at me like I’m missing the point. “Son, the life inside of her is you. Of course she chose to keep it.”
Jamming my eyes shut, I listen because it’s all I can fucking do.
“A strong woman can stand up for herself. A woman like Mollie, stands up for everyone else and herself. She’s the constant you have fucking needed. Look at everything you have going for you. Don’t tell me it’s not because of her.”
I rest my head against my balled fist, knowing he’s right. Getting back to the farm. Rebuilding my relationship with Mick. My business with Dean, the club business, the way she helped. Fuck, all of it involves her. She is the reason my life makes sense now. Mollie is the reason I wake up every day knowing what I’m doing and where my place is. “What have I done.” It’s not a question. I fucking know.
He shakes his head. “You backed her into a corner, rather than setting her free.”
“But she is free. I ended it.”
He stands, checking his phone again. Someone keeps messaging or calling him. “Letting Mollie go wasn’t for the better. You didn’t save her. You didn’t give up what you love to protect it. You gave her no choice but to choose the option you wanted her to, to make yourself feel better.”
I look up in a rage, knowing he’s right, but wanting to disagree with him so badly.
“What we do and how we live, it isn’t for the faint hearted. We have enemies. People who want to watch us burn. If we’re lucky enough to find someone strong enough to take that all in, see our flaws and watch us dance with the devil, and still deem us worthy to want to give us their love, then we need to hold onto that. For the love of fucking God, we need to never let it go.”
His face is troubled. He’s breathing heavy. He knows. He’s felt this. Before I can push him any further, he turns, giving me his back.
“And if she won’t take me back?”
He looks down at his phone. “She will.”
“How can you be so sure?”
His head drops. “Because she asked for you.”
I stand in a rush, waiting for him to turn around. He doesn’t. I look at the phone in his hand. “What’s going on?”
Pain drips from his voice. “There was a fire.”
Fire? “What do you mean a fire?”
He turns then, his face panicked for a man so rough around the edges.
I step closer, reaching and failing to snatch his phone to see who the fuck has been trying to get hold of him.
Pushing me back, I stagger, the banging in my chest fuelling the fear within. “Dean’s with her. She’s fine, but you need to get to the hospital. Fast. Can you ride?”
Hospital? “You think I give a fuck about that?” I’m on my bike, turning on the engine and ramming my helmet on my head. I’ll have to ride fast. “Which hospital?”
“St. Andrew’s. Look, Travis, her dad’s just arrived.”
I pause, the engine the only noise between us. “Her dad?” The man she’s scared to disappoint.
Rocco looks down quickly. “He’s not making things easy. Dean needs one of us there.”
No. I bet he’s not. I give the throttle a tug. “Where are you going?”
“Clean up,” he says, giving me knowing, fierce eyes. Something went wrong. The drop didn’t run as they usually do. That’s on me. “I need to trust you won’t do anything stupid? Seriously, we can’t have any more fuck ups tonight.”
I can’t promise that and he knows it.
I don’t even give him a nod as I ride off. I need to get to Mollie .
When I arrive at the hospital forty-five minutes later, I ditch my bike and sprint to the Accident and Emergency. Dean meets me by the door since I called him, but I can immediately tell by his face something’s wrong. I go to move past him, needing to get to Mollie, but he stops me.
I collide with his outstretched arm. “The fuck?”
I see him recoil a little. “You can’t go in there.”
I’d smile if I wasn’t so sure he was being serious. “What do you mean I can’t go in there? Get the fuck out of my way!”
He pushes me back when I step forward again, surprising me. “Her dad’s in there. Guy’s a mean motherfucker.” His temples twitch, his fists are balled on my cut.
I look down at his hands. “I’m meaner,” I grunt, trying to get past him again. “Dean what the fuck are you playing at?”
“Looking out for you, brother.”
Checking his expression, he’s been put through it tonight. I see the creases on his face. The thick, heavy lines showing his exhaustion. Everything inside me wants to physically manhandle him out of my way, but I take a second, realising whatever’s happened tonight is on me. I need to know what went down. “Rocco said there was a fire.”
Dean stares through me. “I found her at Matthew’s, Travis.”
Wait, what? “Mollie was there?” Worry branches across my back like lightning. Why the fuck was Mollie at the drop? My need to see her intensifies.
“She went when she knew you wouldn’t. I only found out when I went by your place.”
My eyes search his, pain exploding behind them. “Fuck!” I swing my arms, batting his away. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Calm down,” Dean warns, stepping closer. I can’t tell him to back off. I can’t yell or throw my hands, demanding why I wasn’t made aware. They tried to get hold of me. They fucking tried to warn me. And where was I? Drowning in the drink because of something I fucking decided. I hate myself. Loathe the fact I’m breathing.
I run a tetchy hand, roughly through my beard. “Is she hurt?” Stupid fucking question. They brought her to a hospital. My heart stops. The cold wave of misery I used to feel every day, hits me hard. Is she alive? Please, God, don’t tell me—
“She’s alive,” Dean says, reading my mind, filling in the blanks.
I suck in air, my hands going to my knees. “Was she in the fire?”
I watch his feet enter my vision, staring at the ground. “No. But I found her before… before I lit the place up.”
Dean’s a man who fights for what’s right. Acts where and when he’s needed. More than anything, I know he’s a man who’s watched women get hurt under the hands of men. He wouldn’t jeopardise everything we’ve worked for lately if it wasn’t necessary. He would only react if… I stand straight. “Matthew.”
The chilling way his face turns down is all I need. Matthew hurt her. Did something to my girl. I barge past him; this time he doesn’t stop me. I charge, my feet heavily treading my way down a corridor, swinging back curtains, looking and desperately searching for her.
Ignoring the calls for me to stop from the nursing staff, I trudge on, coming to the last cubicle. I fling back the curtain, eyes wide, a lump in my throat. But it’s empty. My heart sinks like the last slither of hope I had that I was about to see her. See her face. That God damn face I stare at every morning before she wakes. The one that steals my breath when I see her eyes flicker whilst she dreams. The one that is beyond all things beautiful and calm. I could watch it forever.
Could.
Won’t.
“She’s not here.”
I swing around not instantly recognising the deep voice from behind me.
Dean comes running up, his feet steadying to a stop close by. They exchange a look, but my gaze is fixed firmly on the man stood still. “Travis,” Dean says. It sounds like a warning. I don’t look.
Mollie’s father is dressed in a suit. It’s crisp. Pristine. His power oozes from him.
When he scowls at me, I can see why Mollie hasn’t wanted to see him. He looks like a man who’s used to getting his own way. “Where is she?”
“In her own room as far away from you as possible.”
“Is she okay?” My voice is threatening, but my words show my intentions. I’m here to see Mollie. I will see her. Regardless of who stands in my way.
“She’s no longer your concern. ”
I hum. “That right?”
Dark, deep, brown eyes hold mine the same way hers normally do. “You have,” he looks down at his Rolex, “thirty seconds before you’re escorted out of here.”
I flick a look to Dean. He gives me a subtle nod. I immediately know his warning is real. Dean must also know I don’t give a flying fuck. His face drops, and the corner of my mouth twitches in apology. “Best get moving then.”
Striding past him, Dean blocks his move to me, and I’m given the smallest of head starts. I run, not knowing where the fuck I’m headed or which room she’s in, but knowing I have to fucking try.
Catching a small window on one of the doors, I chance a look, getting fucking lucky when I see a head of brown hair. I halt. Step back. My heart’s racing. It’s her. She’s asleep. Laying on the bed, she’s unmoving, her chest rising and falling steadily. Apart from her wrist which is clearly injured, a sling holding it steady, I can’t see any other obvious injuries.
I send up a prayer, my hand lifting to the handle. I have no clue what I’m going to say. No idea how many apologies I’ll have to give for her to forgive me. But I’ll grovel. On my hands and fucking knees, I’ll claw my way back into her heart.
If she’ll let me.
I can feel my heart stopping. She has to.
My hand nudges the handle, making it rattle. I briefly see her eyes open and look my way before two sets of hands catch me off guard, and I’m dragged back before being slammed to the floor. “Don’t move!”
A knee’s pressed into my back as my face rebounds off the floor, the heavy weight being pressed between my shoulder blades, keeping me still. I can’t move as they grab my wrists, holding them behind my back. Immobilising me.
“Travis?” Dean shouts.
I look in his direction as best I can, only just catching sight of him being taken away.
“That was the one,” Mollie’s father says as my eyes land on him. He’s pointing at Dean who’s being escorted out. “He brought her in.”
Then he’s gone, shouting my name one last time as Mollie’s father looks at me. What kind of power does he have to know exactly when the police are coming?
“And this one?” I’m hauled to my feet, my head swinging around to see through the window.
Mollie’s eyes meet mine. The connection intensifies the longer we look at each other. Then, ripping my resolve, she looks away, her head dropping. She’s crying. I can tell by the jerking of her shoulders.
My girl. What have I done?
“He’s a nobody.”
My head slowly turns to look at him. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even look satisfied that this is happening to me. There’s no joy at seeing the man who ruined his daughter’s life face to face. He wants me dead. Wants to make sure I suffer. These cuffs aren’t enough.
I get it now. He just wants her back. Wants his daughter to go home. I’m in his way. An obstacle. Remove me, and he gets what he wants.