Page 77 of Snake (Road Rebels MC 3)
Noelle
I had barely dropped my purse to the floor, after a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, when my cell phone rang, and I saw that it was my mom calling.
“Noelle! You haven’t been answering our calls for days!” she barked into the phone, and rolli
ng my eyes, I plonked myself down on the couch. I lifted my feet up and tried to make myself comfortable, aware that my body could only take so much. Very soon, I would have to just acknowledge what my body needed.
“I’ve been busy mom. I’ve been working twelve-hour shifts for the past two weeks,” I told her and mom didn’t sound too pleased with that information.
“Twelve-hour shifts! Why on God’s Earth would you do that to yourself, darling?” she asked, and I pressed my eyes closed and imagined what I could have said to her…if it was possible to tell her the truth.
The truth that three weeks ago, I’d woken up throwing up and a craving for chocolate peanut butter cups. The truth that, after I’d thrown up for the third time that afternoon I’d taken eleven pregnancy tests, all of which had returned as positive. The truth that I’d taken two days sick leave from work, to visit my gynecologist and also to lock myself in the apartment and come up with some sort of plan, and figure out what I really wanted to do. The truth that I was working twelve-hour shifts now…for as long as I could because, in a few months, I would have to go on maternity leave and would need money to sustain myself and my child.
There was no way I could tell her all of that. Not now. She would never understand why I wanted to keep the baby, or how I don’t speak to the father anymore. The news would have to be broken to my parents as gently as possible.
“I need the money, mom,” I told her instead, and I heard her huff.
“You can ask your father for money…you know that! There is no need to tire yourself out like this. We haven’t seen you in days!” she continued, and I tried not to snap at her. If she knew what was actually happening to me, there was a good chance that my father would refuse to ever lend me any money.
Their precious only child, for whom they had big hopes and dreams…now pregnant out of wedlock, carrying the baby of a man she hasn’t seen in two months and possibly will never see again! My parents would not only be devastated, but they would also be enraged.
“I don’t need dad’s money, mom. I have a job,” I replied, trying to sound as calm as possible. The last thing I wanted right now, was an argument with my mother over money.
“We can talk about it when we see you tonight, Noelle,” she said, and I sat up on the couch.
“See me tonight? What’s tonight?” I was quick to ask, but mom was in no hurry to illuminate me.
“Oh…you know, your father’s booked our usual table at the Club…we haven’t seen you in ages, darling, and we were hoping that we could all have dinner together,” she said, and I was already trying to come up excuses for why I couldn’t make it. I was pregnant, for one!
“And darling, wear something nice tonight will you? No jeans or sneakers or things like that,” mom continued, without giving me a chance to respond.
“Mom I…” I began to say, but she interrupted me again.
“We’ve invited the Robinsons to join us for dinner tonight, Damien will be coming, and you two should try spending some time alone together tonight and see how you get on,” mom sounded excited as she spoke, while my heart was ready to beat out of my chest.
Here, my parents were trying to set me up for marriage with a man they had handpicked, while I was pregnant and carrying the child of a biker. And not just any biker. A biker who belonged to a gang. I could feel panic start to form in my chest.
I stood up from the couch and ran a hand nervously through my hair.
“Maybe wear that beautiful fawn colored silk dress I bought you for your birthday? It looks lovely with your hair. And keep your hair down, darling…” mom continued, fear coursed through my veins and I knew I had to stop her. There was no way I could face my parents.
“I can’t tonight, mom,” I said, feeling the guilt rising quickly inside me.
“What do you mean you can’t? Of course, you can. We have it all planned out. You don’t have to wear that dress if you don’t want to,” she said, and I could hear the sharpness in her voice.
“It’s not about the dress mom, I just can’t make it tonight. I wish you’d told me earlier. I have plans…work plans…with colleagues. It’s important that I go…I can’t just cancel it right now,” I said, trying to sound as apologetic as I could.
“But what about the Robinsons? Damien stated that he was looking forward to meeting you. Noelle, this is most rude,” she barked, and I took in a deep breath, and my hand instinctively traveled to my belly. I had been pregnant for eight weeks now, very soon, I would start showing, and then I wouldn’t be able to hide it from my parents anymore. Would they be ashamed? Embarrassed? Angry? I needed to start standing up to my parents for once and for all. I mustered as much courage as I could into my voice.
“Mom, I’m really sorry, but you gave me no notice, and I have no choice. Maybe I can meet him another time. I really have to go now, mom. I need to get ready for the party,” I said, and before she could add anything to that, I’d ended the call.
I was guilty and nervous and feeling too warm for comfort. These days, since I found out about my pregnancy, I was waking up at night in cold sweats, gushing down liters of water just to cool myself. Even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself, the truth was that I was scared.
I was afraid of being a single mother, of doing a bad job as a parent, of something going wrong with my baby. I stroked my belly and swayed on the spot, trying to calm myself but I couldn’t…I was all alone. The man I should have been with had rejected me. He had broken up with me, just hours after making me happy.
I hadn’t seen or heard from Tank in two months, and I had no idea how he was or how he was doing…if his wound had healed if he had found other women to fuck if he had got shot again. Every time I thought about Tank, and the night we had shared together, I was filled with feelings of contentment. This child was going to be a reminder of him, of how happy I was that night.
And other times, I felt nothing but regret and foolish. For sleeping with a man, for trusting someone who was bound to break my heart, to leave me. He had said it himself, that I wouldn’t understand him and that we belonged to two different worlds. He had warned me already that this could never work, and yet, I had tumbled deeper and deeper into his web. I had fallen for him, and I couldn’t resist his body. It was all my fault.
I walked around the apartment, holding my belly. Despite how I had gotten myself into this situation, and how scared I was, a small part me was excited. I had always wanted to be a mother, and even though this wasn’t the most ideal circumstances, I was still given a chance.
In the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror.
“It’s just you and me, kid,” I said aloud, with a small smile on my lips.
Did I even look the same anymore? My hair looked limp, I didn’t bother with makeup these days, and there was a pinkish glow on my cheeks now. Very soon, I wouldn’t be able to fit into my clothes anymore, and that was when I would have to figure out what to do after the baby was born. Would I be able to afford some kind of day care? I knew for a fact that my parents would refuse to help me, out of shame.
I wished I could speak to Tank. I could still feel his arms around me, holding me close to his chest, his fingers weaving in my hair. I still remembered the way he had looked at me adoringly when I had woken up beside him in the morning. Had that all been an act?
What would I tell my baby about their father? I guess that the best thing would be if Tank never found out and if the baby never found out either. That way, we could all live our lives separately.
Even though I wished he was here with me, that I had him to lean on…I did wish him well. I hoped that he was safe and happy, doing what he loved doing. And whatever happened, I was going to love his child and try and give it the best life that I could.
CHAPTER 15
Tank
We were sitting around our usual table at the Rusty Pelican. Gunner, Glock, Sniper, Hunter and I had just returned from overseeing another shipment of weapons that had come in, and we were downing a
well-deserved round of drinks, or two.
Ever since the shootout two months ago, when I got shot, we were more careful about an ambush and always on high alert. We also had some of the men working towards gathering intel about the Dragon Knights and their progress.
“I heard from Blade, from The New Wolves, that they’ve started working with Four Skulls,” Glock told us, as he dangled his fourth bottle beer from his hand. The New Wolves were a newer motorcycle club in the area. We had formed somewhat of an understanding with one another, and we kept out of their business, as long as they kept out of ours.
“Four Skulls? That low life street gang?” Sniper asked, and Gunner and I exchanged looks. Glock always seemed to have new information, but it wasn’t always reliable. Too many times it had been just rumors rather than hard facts. Every time he told us something we didn’t know, Gunner or I had to go and confirm the intel through other sources first before taking action.
“What do you mean they’re working with Four Skulls now?” Gunner asked, and Glock shrugged his shoulders. He was pleased with himself for knowing something we didn’t know. In a lot of ways, Glock was still a kid.
“They’re trying to work with weapons. Now that their prostitution ring has gone to shit, they’re trying to build up a stockpile of weapons, just like us,” he explained, and Gunner exchanged looks with me again.
“So, there is no intel that they are trying to reorganize their prostitution ring again?” I asked, and he shrugged his shoulders again.
“Not that I’ve heard,” he replied, but Hunter spoke up.
“What I’ve been hearing is that they’re still trying to get prostitution back on the cards,” Hunter said, and I could sense Gunner shift uncomfortably in his seat. His old lady had been rescued from the DK’s in the nick of time, and it was still a sore topic of conversation with him, for a good reason.
