Chapter 18
JOKER
I throw my leg over the saddle of my bike, hit the throttle, and wheel toward the road. I pull into our formation, determined to keep my head in the game and not focus on what could happen. My main objective is to get home and protect my family from whatever weird shit is going on.
I concentrate on the bike in front of me and the white line of the highway, but I can’t help my brain from flashing back.
“ Fuck!” I howl, then cradle Daisy’s head, pressing my forehead to hers, willing her to open her eyes. Her pale, sallow skin burns my palms, clammy yet hot at the same time, and when my eyes skim down her body, I see … blood staining the sheets.
I remember the desperation and guilt, and this latest fucked-up situation has brought it all back to the surface. No matter what happens, I have to be there for Daisy.
We’ve had plenty of rivals over the years. Other clubs trying to take what’s ours. Even a street gang from Downtown tried to move in on our shit, but this enemy hides in the shadows. This enemy came at me personally when I least expected it. This enemy is my ghost.
DAIS Y
He drags me backward into the kitchen. “Do exactly as I say, and maybe I’ll spare your children,” the rough voice hisses in my ear.
I struggle to break free, but it’s impossible. Whoever’s holding me has incredible strength, and I’m no match for him barefooted in my maternity PJ’s.
“I’m going to take my hand away, but you better stay quiet,” the deep voice warns.
No problem since I have no intention of fighting him and putting my baby in danger or risking Derek and Deana coming into the kitchen before this person gets what he wants. I’ve dealt with crazy before, and crazy has no boundaries.
He spins me around to face him, gripping my biceps like a vise. He’s wearing a bandana around his face, and his coal-black eyes widen at the sight of my baby bump. His straight black hair is tied back with a leather tie, and a silver feather hangs from one ear.
“Take whatever you want and leave. I won’t stop you, and I won’t tell the police.”
“Of course you won’t ‘cause your husband’s a criminal too.”
My mind spins with his words. This isn’t a random burglary; this is planned, which makes it worse—way worse.
I search the patches on his cut. On the left side is the one percent patch and above that reads, Nomads, Lake Tahoe, NV . The other side where his name patch should be is ripped off, which means he’s been “thrown out bad,” and I’m dealing with someone who has nothing to lose.
“If you know my husband, then you know he won’t let this stand. Your best bet is to leave now, ‘cause he should be home any minute.” I pray my words are true.
“Nah, I made sure he won’t be home, and by the time he does get home, it’ll be too late.” He slams my back up against the counter, and I wince. My back is tender with the weight of the baby, but the pain travels around my midsection, grips me hard, then releases.
I draw in slow, deep breaths.
“Your husband took out someone very close to me. Now it’s his turn to lose someone close to him.”
“You doing this won’t bring back whoever you lost.”
His deep, rumbling laugh fills me with dread. “Before I’m done, I’ll take out everyone he loves.”
My brain scrambles for a way out. A diversion.
I grip my belly with my free hand. “I need to sit.” Then I groan, deep enough for him to hear but not loud enough to attract Derek or Deana.
His dark eyes narrow above the bandana.
“I’m not kidding. I’m due this week.” Total lie. I bend from the waist, and his eyes dart around the room.
“Please just let me sit.” I bend down farther, and he steps away from me.
Perfect. I groan, twist my body, then grab my heavy Calphalon stainless steel frying pan off the stovetop and whip it at his head.
The dull thud knocks him back against the counter.
I whack him again, this time connecting with his shoulder.
He staggers for a second then regains his balance.
“You’ll regret this, bitch.” He charges toward me, his body hitting me with all two hundred pounds of pissed off.
I grapple for the edge of the counter seconds before I lose my footing and stumble backwards. My back hits the floor, and I cradle my stomach, but my head makes a sickening crack against the tiles. Pain sears through my skull, my ears ring, and my eyes focus on Derek bolting into the room.
“What the fuck?” Derek bellows, then sweeps his leg, connecting a perfect roundhouse kick to the guy’s head. The guy staggers backwards and lands with a thud on the floor.
I struggle to get up, but my abdomen clenches so hard, you can see the baby move beneath my shirt. A second later, I’m drenched, and the floor is covered with amniotic fluid .
Derek crouches beside me. “Are you all right?”
“My water just broke.” I grimace as another contraction hits harder than the first. “The baby’s coming.”
“Now?” His eyes grow wide.
“Now,” I moan.
Derek fumbles with his phone and calls 911. He gives them our address and information, then swipes away the call.
I grab his hand and nod to the guy laid out on the tile. “You were amazing.”
“All these years of karate finally paid off.” Derek stands, then opens the kitchen drawer. “Who the hell is he?”
“I don’t know, but he knows your father.”
He pulls out the duct tape and makes quick work of securing the Nomad’s ankles and wrists together.
“I don’t want to know where you learned that trick.”
“You forget I spent the first thirteen years of my life living at the raunchiest, wildest, craziest clubhouse on the East Coast.” Derek grins, and I swear I’m looking at his father fifteen years ago.
Another contraction hits, and this one makes me curl into a ball.
“Mom?” Deana’s little voice drenches me like a bucket of cold water. “Are you all right?” Her bottom lip quivers, and my heart melts.
Another contraction rips through my abdomen, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my pain.
“I’m fine, honey,” I pant out. “But I don’t think your baby brother or sister can wait to meet you.” I catch Derek’s eye. “Take her in the other room and try your father again, because I don’t think the paramedics are going to make it in time.
Another contraction tears through me, and before I can recover, it hits again stronger than the first. I cradle my belly, and my body automatically folds into the fetal position.
I’m timing them on my watch—they are now less than one minute apart.
Before the next contraction, I yank open the bottom drawer of the cabinet and pull out the kitchen towels.
I lay them under me, and when the next contraction hits, I focus on my body, draw up my legs and anchor my hands behind my knees.
I concentrate on my breathing, zoning out everything around me until I hear heavy footsteps on the stairs then a thunder of male voices.
“Fuck!” Joker’s deep rumble surrounds me as he barrels into the kitchen, followed by Cobra and the other Serpents.
They stop short at the guy lying on the floor.
“Holy shit!” Cobra examines the Nomad. “Who the fuck is that?”
Joker pulls the bandana off his face. “That’s the same one who’s been spooking me.” He shoots a look at Mamba. “The guy who’s supposed to be dead.”
Mamba leans in for a closer look. “He was dead.”
Joker falls to his knees beside me and grabs my hand. “Baby, I’m here.”
“Our little person just decided to come a little early,” I wheeze out, then squeeze his hand hard.
My abdomen rolls and convulses on its own. I desperately do my breathing, but it’s no match for the force of nature and the overwhelming need to push. I twist my body and lean up on my elbows, unable to halt the process as my body shudders and shakes.
More footsteps on the stairs. “That’s probably the paramedics.”
“Get that fucker outta here,” Cobra orders, and Mamba and Rattler drag the Nomad into the other room and out of sight.
Two seconds later, two paramedics barge past the Serpents crowding the door. One kneels on the other side of me and opens his medical bag. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Daisy,” I huff out .
“And how far along are you?”
“I’m thirty-four weeks.”
“And how old are you and do you have any underlying medical conditions. Diabetes, high blood pressure?”
Another contraction hits and Joker answers for me. “She’s thirty-two. No diabetes or high blood pressure.”
“Okay, everything’s going to be fine, but we need to examine you.” They snap on surgical gloves, and the other paramedic waves his hand at the Serpents. “Everyone out of the kitchen except the father.”
The Serpents look to Joker, and when he nods, they all file into the living room.
“I’m going to examine you now.” The paramedic says to me, then I feel the pressure of his hands.
“She’s got six weeks left,” Joker tells the paramedic.
Ignoring Joker, the paramedic continues the examination then locks eyes with me. “You’re fully dilated, and the baby’s head has crowned. You’ll never make it to the hospital.”
Joker grabs the paramedic’s arm. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means we’re going to make her as comfortable as possible, then she’s going to have her baby right here.”
“Can you do that?” Joker demands.
“We’re trained to deliver babies, sir, and doing it here is safer than trying to transport her this far along.”
Joker narrows his eyes. “You better be right.”
The paramedic is unfazed by Joker’s warning as he nudges him out of the way and wraps a blood pressure cuff around my arm.
A flurry of activity surrounds me as the paramedics exchange words and phrases I don’t understand, preparing for our baby’s birth.
An overwhelming desire to push takes over, and I grunt, digging my heels into the tile.
“Don’t push,” the paramedic yells. “Not yet. ”
Is this guy kidding? That’s like telling someone not to sneeze. I feel the pressure of their hands against my thighs, and the need to push comes stronger.
“Okay, we’re ready.” The paramedic nods to Joker. “Get behind her and support her shoulders.
Joker smooths my hair off my face. “You can do this,” he whispers in my ear.
“Take a deep breath.” The paramedic locks eyes with me. “Exhale, now take another, and on my count, give one long push.” He holds up his gloved hand. “One, two, three, push.”
I squeeze Joker’s hand and push with all my might.
“Okay, that was great, but hold up a minute.” I feel the pressure of his hands again.
“Good, baby, you’re doin’ great,” Joker encourages.
“One more should do it.” The paramedic shifts forward. “Another nice deep breath and bear down hard. Again on my count. One, two, three.”
I push with everything I have, the pressure releases, I collapse against Joker, and three seconds later, I hear the squawk of my baby.
“You have a healthy baby girl,” the paramedic announces.
“Afterbirth delivered.” The other paramedic moves between my legs. “Excessive bleeding. Gauze, give me gauze.”
Sticky wetness and then pressure as the paramedic presses the gauze into my body.
“You did it, babe, you did it.” Joker smiles down at me.
“We have another girl.” I gaze up into Joker’s smiling face. He leans in for a kiss, the room spins, and everything goes black.