Chapter 12 #2
“She’s okay. Tired, mostly.” I decide to keep it vague.
I told him she’s pregnant during my last visit, and it lessened tensions a little bit.
Anything else about her condition isn’t anyone’s business but ours, and while I know he means it from a good place, I want to keep anything else under wraps.
You know, for the sake of diplomacy and all of that.
“I’m sure. How far is she now?”
I smile softly just at the thought. She looked so damn sweet this morning as she was getting ready for work. It was one of those moments that should’ve been nothing special—a peek at what any normal, domesticated life would look like. But she was fucking breathtaking.
She was standing in front of our bathroom mirror brushing her long hair out, and she hadn’t put her t-shirt on yet.
So, she was just standing there in her leggings and tank top.
It fit so perfectly on her curves and over her round little belly.
I had to stop for a moment and soak in her beauty.
One of those looks that I knew I would keep in my mind forever.
“Sixteen weeks,” I say proudly, and Grease grins back at me.
“That’s awesome, man. I’m happy for you both,” he says, but then his face morphs into something more serious. “Any signs of that woman from the groom house?”
The temperature must drop at least ten degrees in an instant, because a wave of cold washes over me.
Gianna DeLuca. The vile bitch who is apparently a succubus.
The overwhelming sense of failure from last night threatens to follow the fire shooting through me like an aftershock.
I shake my head to answer his question, but when I realize it’s more like a tremor, I speak up.
“Not yet.”
“We’re keeping an eye out, too. Not that she’d show her face in town, but if we notice anyone else going missing, we’ll be sure to relay it to you,” he declares.
All I can do is grit my teeth and nod so I don’t say something I would regret later.
I don’t need him to fucking tell me. I’ve got eyes and ears all over this God-forsaken city.
“Well, if you all feel comfortable, we’ve got that community barbeque thing we do once a year at the park in downtown.
It’s coming up in a couple of weeks. You guys should come.
It’s public, and a lot of civilians. So, no one should be stupid enough to cause any problems. It might help dissolve some of the tension. ”
I look back up at him, and just when I’m about to reject his invitation, I see the sincerity behind it. The event is something the MC works hard on, and it’s good for the community. Plus, he has a good point about practically forcing our two groups to get along.
“Okay. Yeah, that sounds good. We’ll meet again then?” He nods and I stand to shake his hand. “Contact me if you see anything weird.”
“Same for you.” He looks at me with a determined stare, and while I should probably sit my ass back down and demand him to tell me what’s got him so curious, I don’t.
Grease has earned some level of respect and trust in my opinion, and if this truce is going to last, I don’t need to get involved in the MC’s problems unless I’m asked to.
I nod once and turn to leave, both feeling a little lighter and a little heavier.
Things around this city, and in our lives, keep piling up, and it's only adding to the growing weight in my chest. I can’t help but look to the future warily, like I’m both excited and nervous for it.
The question of ‘when is it all going to end’ keeps popping up in my head, but it’s hard to say if the answer to that is good or bad.
“How was the appointment?” Carter turns in his chair and asks as I walk into the Batcave.
I look around to assess his most recent damage, and I’m surprised to see that it’s mostly clean.
He doesn’t have clothes piled up here anymore, and the amount of trash is less than minor.
I open my mouth to say something, but when smart-ass comments about him keeping it tidy for Serena is all I can conjure up, I decide against it.
I don’t know if they’re in a good place or not, and I’m not prepared to bring that up.
“Which one? The tattoo or the motorcycle club?” I ask jokingly.
“Well, as much as I would love to stare at your body, that’s for the Lost and Found,” he sarcastically taunts. I stop just a couple of steps in front of his computer chair. My head tilts just a tad, and I can feel my lip lift in a partial snarl.
“The what?”
He lays his arms on the rests, like he’s Doctor Evil or some shit, and sits forward slightly like he’s about to unveil a sinister plan.
“Lost and Found,” he reiterates. I think for a moment, wondering who the fuck he could be talking about, when it snaps into place.
“Are you talking about my wife?”
“And her long lost brother.”
I roll my eyes.
“That’s a little dramatic. Zeke is not interested in me, and for the last time, I don’t want to fuck my brother-in-law.
” I cross my arms and try to get the point across.
Ever since we found out Zeke is Ashia’s brother, Carter’s been cracking jokes about ‘having the best of both worlds’ and the thought of touching someone other than my wife disgusts me.
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to fuck you,” he cackles, and as much fun as this conversation is, thinking about holding Zeke in my arms instead of Ashia is not on my list of happy thoughts.
“Well, I’ll just go tell Alex about the meeting then.” I turn to walk back out of Carter’s office, when he shakes his head and laughs so hard he can barely breathe.
“Come on, D. Lighten up. Show me,” he hisses as he tries to control the laughter bursting out of him. I just shake my head back at him and pull my t-shirt over my head.
“You two have got to stop busting each other’s balls.”
“Hey! All of you bastards joked about my virginity for years. The least I can do is pull Zeke’s chain for taking dick. In a loving, best friend kind of way, of course.”
I roll my eyes again. None of us have any issues with Zeke being bisexual. He just so happened to make it worse with his own jokes about a special night with Alex and his wife, Trina. Did it actually happen? I mean, I can imagine it, but I’ve never asked questions.
“I think he’s the giver, not the receiver, but I could be wrong,” I point out as I take off the tape around the new ink on my chest. Carter just chuckles, and then once I finally take the wrapping off, he shuts up.
It’s weird how that one area of skin can breathe again now that it doesn’t have a covering, but the air conditioning whips over the red, raised skin in a relieving caress.
After wiping the dribbled blood and ointment away, I finally look back at Carter’s face. His eyes have actually softened some, and he has this approving smirk at the corner of his lips.
“She’s going to love that.”
“You think?” I ask in a somewhat nervous tone. She’s loved everything else I’ve had tattooed on my body, but this is different. Plus, I did it without asking her first. But, in my defense, it’s for her. So, I couldn’t show her and say ‘what do you think?’ It’s supposed to be a surprise.
“Hell yeah, man. She might even cry.”
Oh, shit. I didn’t even think of that.
“In a good way, right?”
Carter just shrugs.
“I don’t know, man. Pregnant women cry over everything.
She’ll probably sob because she loves it, but also because you covered up more of your dreamy body,” he teases once again.
I just shake my head and lean on his desk.
This big piece needs some time to air out, and I’ve got awhile before Ashia gets home from her ‘best friend date.’ “Her tattoo artist did that?”
“Yeah. He agreed not to post anything until I told him that she saw it.”
He puckers his bottom lip just a little and nods while he looks a little closer.
“Remind me to go to that guy when I finally get one.”
“Sure. You going to get Serena’s name next?” I tease, but the moment I finish the sentence, he shuts me down.
“So, how did it go with Grease?” he says pointedly, like he wouldn’t answer my question for anything in the world. I stare at him for a second to try and decipher what that could mean.
Carter is one of my best friends, but living with both him and Serena for those first couple of weeks of recovery was hell.
I mean, literal hell. She did nothing but give sly, back-handed comments towards him, and when she finally softened, he was too agitated to notice.
So, he pushed back at the wrong times, and the cycle continued over again.
I swear those two love to pine after one another as much as they love to hate one another.
Thank God Serena went back to her own apartment eventually.
“Not great.” I try to focus back on his diversion. Carter pulls up the file we have on the MC and starts recording our conversation to keep records of everything.
“Why not? I thought that was going well?”
“It was, but Viking was there this time and certainly wasn’t happy to see me.”
Carter’s head tilts, and his eyes narrow with dumbfounded tightness.
“He forced your wife into an ongoing gun fight. What the hell is he mad at you for?”
“He’s mad that I shot him.”
“You could’ve killed him.”
“That’s what I said!” I throw my arm out and let it fall to my side. “We’re apparently invited to their community barbeque, though. Anything else going on today?”
“No, actually. It’s relatively quiet. Which is weird, but I think we’ve all needed a quiet day lately.” He shrugs.
He can say that again.
“Popov didn’t resurface?”
“Not yet, but we’re looking along the main highway from here to New York. We know he’s not stupid enough to go back to that warehouse, but we’ve got men patrolling the nearby cities to scope things out, too. We’ll find him, D.”