Chapter 11
CALLIE
SEVEN YEARS AGO…
Two months after Colt got injured because of me and I finally managed to find a routine with the Vultures.
Between working the garage and going on transport runs, I kept myself busy.
And I gave Hawk the key to the room he’d offered at the clubhouse, choosing my own place a mile away so I’d have distance from the temptation they presented.
I saw them all almost on the daily.
Colt came and went on his own schedule, and I kept pretending none of it bothered me. Being confused became a part of daily life, and I chose to ignore it in favor of begging for answers.
Who was I to ask them to make an exception for me?
I tightened my grip on the handlebars and steered my bike into Grady’s parking lot.
The run down gas station with the junkyard in the back was my least favorite stop but no one else had the exact part I needed if I wanted to fix the bike in the garage today versus next week.
I dropped the kickstand and scoured the lot, counting bikes and cataloguing patches on the men gathered close to the door.
Most of them ignored me when I swung off the bike and approached the side entrance where Grady promised to have the part waiting for me.
A guy to the left of the door shifted, revealing a Hellhound patch on his leathers.
He crossed his arms and stared at me until the hair on the back of my neck lifted. I’d been around enough rough men to know the difference between someone who stared because they were curious and someone who stared to send a message.
This was the second kind.
He didn’t look away when I met his eyes, and I forced my gaze to stick on him without flinching. Looking away first meant admitting I didn’t belong.
I’d rather get run over and dragged down the highway than give any ground to a man like him.
A few others grouped up between us, naturally breaking our line of sight and ending the stalemate.
Some Vultures I knew from the clubhouse eyed me and then their rival. I took another look at the parking lot.
I’d worked on six of the ten bikes out there.Four unknowns.
Last time it had been two. And we were right in the middle of Vulture territory.
There shouldn’t be a single Hellhound for twenty miles. But there they stood, bold as brass and acting like they owned the place.
I brushed off the shiver snaking down my spine and opened the battered wooden door. The scent of oil and decrepit building soothed the last of the fear away, and I gave Grady a tight-lipped smile. “You have it?”
Grady, pushing seventy and still trying to act twenty, smiled back and handed over a paper sack with a wink. “Pulled it myself.”
Great. Grady imagined himself as some great mechanic, but since he’d started losing his eyesight a couple years ago it was a fifty-fifty shot on whether the part would be right or not. ‘
I opened the bag to check and pushed down a sigh.
“Thanks, Grady.” Closing the bag, I tucked it into my pocket.
“Listen, I have another bike rattling around. Pretty sure it just needs a spark plug. Any chance I could poke around for a few minutes to see if you have one? It would save me a ton of time.” And I could pull the part I actually needed without hurting Grady’s feelings.
Poor old guy couldn’t help it, but he’d given me a useless, completely stripped wire off a battery instead of the one I needed.
Grady frowned and scrubbed a knobby knuckle down his grizzled cheek. “Well, I dunno. I don’t usually let people back there.”
Uh-huh. I’d seen at least a dozen men come and go through that junkyard in the last month alone. I arched my eyebrows and crossed my arms. “You trying to hide something from me, Grady?”
“Not me.” He held both hands up and took a step back. “You want back there, go on. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You didn’t.” I shake my head and mutter on my way to the junkyard.
Ten minutes later, I’ve found the wire I needed and pulled a decent spark plug to show Grady if he asks. I doubt he will, but better if I cover all my bases than risk hurting a harmless old man’s feelings.
Grady waved at me as I walked past, but he’s holding a phone to his ear and doesn’t bother grilling me about my time in the junkyard.
I’ve already swung my leg over my bike when I look down and realize the front tire is sitting lower than it should. Low…and flat.
Dread curdled my stomach, pinching it tight into a hard ball.
I leaned forward and to the side to check for a leak and found a long gash in the sidewall.
My head snapped up, gaze drawing tight as I scanned the group standing at the door.
Different men from when I arrived. No one looked my way or even acted like I existed.
Smart.
Do it clean, fast, and walk away like nothing happened.
I’d seen Wade operate the same way.
He’d smile at a man while stabbing him in the back.
The parallel turned my stomach more than the flat.
It had taken some balls to slash my tire in front of witnesses and in broad daylight.
Which meant it might have been a Vulture who did it. I’d felt the tension growing in the clubhouse.
It was another reason I’d started sleeping elsewhere. No one bothered me, but I didn’t feel like anyone protected me either.
Fuck. I can’t drive on a flat, and I don’t trust any of the tires on the bikes I saw in the junkyard. I don’t have much choice but to call Hawk and tell him what happened.
He answered on the first ring with a gruff, “Hello?” that weakened my knees.
I hated that. Hated that one word from him could do that to me when I stood in a parking lot full of men who’d love nothing more than to make me feel small.
I swallowed it down and kept my voice flat.
The last thing I needed was for him to hear my fear.
“Someone slashed my tire at Grady’s. I need a pickup. ”
“Be there in ten. Stay put.”
Like I could go anywhere else. I propped myself up against my bike and crossed my arms.
True to his word, Hawk pulled in ten minutes later.
He climbed out of the truck and rolled my bike into the back without so much as a word until the doors closed and we hit the asphalt.
The silence sat between us with the weight of a third passenger leaning in.
Hawk drove in that deliberate way he did everything. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Just like nothing happened the day I found the note under my wiper or that fucking symbol carved into my back door. This is three fucking times I’ve been threatened, Hawk. Three times and no one is doing a single damned thing about it.”
“I can’t do anything.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “Not like I can make any accusations when I have no proof.”
“Someone slashed my fucking tire, and I’m sick to death of every fucking one of you blowing it off like it’s nothing.
Do you know that last time I tried to talk to the club about the symbol they told me to calm down.
Calm down. Like this is all make believe or I’m reading too much into it.
” I was not hysterical. Every single word that came out was one I’d planned and calculated.
“I’ve been telling you all for a month that something is coming.
No one wants to believe me.” I scoffed when Hawk glanced my way.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep my mouth shut. I’ll let you all keep pretending that nothing is wrong.
And when the shit hits the fan, I don’t want to hear one single fucking word about it. Because I warned you.”
There were times when I hated them. I hated being told it was nothing.
Hated being told to calm down like the threats were harmless. They were not pranks.
They were not harmless.
I’d heard that bullshit my entire life from my mother when she brought home shitty boyfriends.
Hawk wheeled into the parking lot in front of the clubhouse and killed the engine. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Right. Sure.” I shrugged and hopped out, taking extreme care not to slam the door behind me.
That would show too much emotion and prove my hysteria.
Damn it all to hell and fuck the devil while they were there but I’d had enough of this bullshit.
I rolled my bike off the trailer and took it straight into the garage, locking all the doors behind me.
If someone wanted inside, they’d have to break down a door, because I needed space and a break from their excuses.
No one bothered me, and even though I realized it might’ve been irrational, even more anger poured through me when I left out five hours later on my brand new tire without a single check in from Colt, Diesel, or Hawk. Not one word or even a knock on the door.
My teeth locked as I drove. I took a turn too fast, and nausea rose. It did the same thing again on the next turn, forcing me to the side of the road until it passed.
I’d felt off this morning too, but I attributed that to my upcoming period being late.
My hands went clammy and my spine snapped straight when I finished heaving into the bushes. I dug my phone from my pocket and checked the date to confirm, halfway praying the calendar app would lie to me. Not only was I late, but I’d missed last month too.
No. It couldn’t be that. I always took a morning after pill even though I was on birth control. I’d seen what it was like to have a child unexpectedly. I hadn’t wanted to put myself or a baby through that. So how…
Colt.
Damn me. I’d been so shaken after seeing Colt injured that I’d stayed at the clubhouse after Hawk sent him away. By the time I remembered my extra step of protection, it was too late. I’d assumed it wouldn’t matter. Just this once I’d let my regular birth control take the heat.
I kicked my ass into gear and shot off toward the nearest store, snagging the pregnancy test off the shelf and paying for it at the self-checkout register. No one glanced my way or paid any attention at all. Good. I’d gotten good at being alone. Maybe too good.
I finished out the drive on auto-pilot, my mind lost to the what ifs and possibilities.
By the time my tiny, one room apartment came into view, I’d almost convinced myself it was all a great big cosmic joke.
I’d skipped periods before. Thank you very much.
Being late and nauseous were almost as normal as my daily craving for coffee and chocolate.
Nothing more than dealing with the daily stress of hormones.
I almost didn’t even take the test but I wouldn’t be able to rest until I did. After locking up my bike and stumbling into the apartment, I followed the instructions to the letter, then sat on the toilet to wait.
The minutes crawled past one by one, each tick of every second on the timer app pounding through me.
I stood twice, once to splash water on my face, once just to move.
Sitting still with that test on the back of the toilet brought a new rush of fear I barely kept down.
My heart beat fast enough it hummed and I kept drying my sweaty hands on my jeans.
Nothing helped. Nothing would help until that test came up negative.
My phone beeped, and I lunged for the test. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to look as it worked, and it took a second for my eyes to focus on the two lines slashing across the viewing screen.
I double checked the instructions as a pit opened up in my stomach.
“No.” I whispered the word into the void of space, unable to imagine what kind of horrible mother I’d be.
I had no reference for what a good mother did, but I knew I could not be anything like my own.
The positive pregnancy test slipped from my grasp and clattered onto the cold laminate.
My hands shook, then my entire body. I dropped to the floor and brought my knees to my chest. The test sat face up two feet away.
I didn’t look at it. Couldn’t. I didn’t need more evidence of this very real fact.
What was I going to tell Hawk and the others?
Once they knew, nothing would ever be the same.