There’s a woman wearing a yellow dress that really is doing nothing for her figure. I don’t remember seeing her before. She’s not with any of the chapters. She’s not wearing a cut that says she is property of one of the brothers. No one is really talking to her. She’s in the next aisle across from me, about three rows back, but she’s crying.
Dancer has been moved down the row today to make room for Skull. Why Skull feels it is okay for him to sit in chairs made for those closest to Dragon, I don’t know. Dancer didn’t argue; however, so I don’t say anything. What could I say? Bull is still on the other side of me. I notice him giving Skull hateful looks, and had it not felt like my heart was being ripped out—I would have smiled. I elbow Bull and motion towards the strawberry blonde crying.
He looks at the girl. Leans down and whispers in my ear, “Frog’s sister.”
I grimace and swallow as a wave of sorrow settles, yet again. I’ve not allowed myself to think of Frog or the loss others might feel here; I’ve been consumed with my own loss. I didn’t know Frog that well; I didn’t even realize he had a sister. I should make an effort to say hi to her, but I figure I’m not going to. I should feel bad about that. I should feel bad about the fact that I’m going through the motions, marking time until everyone leaves and lets me disappear behind my bedroom door again.
I don’t.
I just wish I could leave now.
“Are you alright, querida?” Skull asks putting his hand on my leg. I stare at his hand.
“I’d be fine if people would quit asking me that, and get your damned hand off my leg.” I bark back and I don’t do it quietly.
Diesel (whoever the hell he is) stops going on about how close he and Dragon were to look at me. Is it my imagination or is there a smile in those eyes. My back is killing me, I’m angry at the world and I feel like a sweaty elephant. I really might go off at any moment and that can’t be good for anyone. I
should
be like Frog’s sister. I’m not and I wonder if people are judging me because of it?
I’m cried out. There are no tears left inside of me right now and I’m
angry
. I’m mad at the club, the situation, this damned service, Dani, Michael, Crusher, Dancer…the list goes on. I’m so fucking mad at Dragon. I want to scream at him for leaving me. I can’t. I can’t do any of the things I feel the need to do. I am even more furious at myself. I
hate
myself right now and at the rate I’m going, probably will for the rest of my life.
Skull takes his hand away and Bull puts his arm around my back and squeezes my shoulder. I see a hint of a smile on his face and that should make me happy. It should, because Bull never smiles. Instead, I really wish I had a knife so I could jab it into Skull’s hand when he absently pats my leg again. Hell, even a fork would work.
I shift in the seat again, as Diesel finally stops talking. He stops in front of me and holds out his hand for me to shake. I look up at him. He’s tall, like really tall—close to seven foot. He’s got a jagged scar along the side of his right eye. His hair is long and a dirty-gold-blonde, and he’s got a scruffy beard, and tattoos on his fingers and arms that might be pretty nice-looking; I don’t take the time to investigate them. I shake his hand. His grip is firm and swallows mine, completely.
“Very sorry for your loss, Mrs. West.”
I didn’t marry him!
I want to scream. I didn’t get to marry him. I didn’t get to be Mrs. West and I should have! If I had married him, if I had insisted on continuing with the ceremony, Dragon wouldn’t have got into the car. We would have gone back into the church and got married. Maybe Dragon would have gotten Crusher’s call. The bomb would have never gone off and Dragon would be alive. Even if the bomb did explode, I would have been with him.
I would have been with him.
God, I want to be with him. The only time I feel like I’m alive right now is in bed at night when I dream of Dragon. When I can pretend he is still with me.
My baby kicks and guilt at my thoughts swamp me. I know I need to be here to bring our child into the world, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t
want
to be.
I nod at Diesel, words are beyond me at this point. Thankfully he leaves.
“What’s wrong?” Bull whispers, picking up on my frustration. I don’t know how to answer him. My body feels wrong? Being here feels wrong? I want to scream instead of cry? I want to draw blood? Without an answer, I just shrug.
Another member of the Savage MC crew stands up. This one is from the Georgia chapter; he apparently served with Frog. He starts talking about jumping out of planes and you can tell he really cared about Frog. I hear the sister’s sobs get louder. I shift in my seat, again, as a sharp pain in my back stabs and then slowly disappears. Metal chairs are not comfortable on a pregnant woman, even with the pillow that Bull put at my back.
“Nic?” Bull asks and this time he seems worried.
“I’ll be okay,” I whisper, but I’m really not sure. The world seems to be going on around me and I’m just watching it. It’s too late to be in shock over Dragon’s death, right?
A little while later the service breaks. The crowd disburses out into the parking area; the men and their old ladies get on their rides. Bull and Dancer will be leading the crew. Crusher will be staying behind watching over Dani.
Does she know how lucky she is to have someone willing to give up the club for her? Because that’s what he is doing, essentially. I’ve heard the talk. None of the men are happy with him; hell, I’m not happy with him. Couldn’t he have left and made the call and then went back for Dani? He knew about the bombs. He
knew
. He could have saved Dragon.
Frog’s family will be in one limo and I’ll be in another, I’m not sure who with. I assume it will be Carrie, Nikki and Lips. I’ve not really talked to them since Dragon’s….
death
. The word hits me. No, it throat punches me, because I can’t catch my breath. Dragon’s
death
. I’m sitting in the chair and my eyes go to the urn. The empty urn, because there was none of Dragon left.
Dragon’s death
. Bull stands up at the same time Skull does. They both turn to help me out of the chair. I look up at them, but I can’t get the breath to release from my chest to speak. I can’t move. I feel the wetness gather in my eyes and I look back to the urn.
Dragon’s death
. I shake my head back and forth in denial. Panic is setting in and I hate it. Anger is better, but I can’t seem to grab it like I had before.
Dragon’s death
. How will I go on without him? How will I raise our child without him?
Skull pulls me from the chair and guides me outside to the limo. I go, not by choice. I go because I can’t breathe and maybe being outside will help. The harsh sun is bright and hurts my eyes. It seems wrong too. Everything about today is
wrong
.
“Ow…” I gasp as pain again hits my back.
“What is wrong, querida?” Skull asks and really his voice is annoying me.
Where did Bull go? I look around and see him climbing on his bike.
How special. Yet another member of the Savage MC choosing the club and their rides over me.
“Pain in my back. Sitting too long, I guess.” I answer licking my lips and looking around. The sound of bikes starting is all you can hear and the pipes are echoing in the air.
“Can you get into the car, or do you need to stand for a moment?” Skull asks. He’s wearing a black suit and no cut. In fact if I didn’t know him, I would not even know he is the President over his own MC club. He has an expensive air of a businessman about him. He always has.
“I…give me a minute. I need to catch my breath,” I respond, and my voice is strained and distant over all the noise, but Skull seems to hear. I feel his hand at the base of my back and he’s rubbing gently. I should complain, but I can’t because it feels really good. Instead, I hold my stomach and try to breathe. The pain seems to be holding on longer than it had earlier. Maybe I have a kidney infection or something? I need to make an appointment for the doctor. I haven’t exactly been taking care of myself the last week or so. The racket dies down as the bikes start pulling out. I look over my shoulder at Skull.
“I’m ready.”
I’m not really, but I don’t want to hold up the service at the cemetery. Skull opens the door and I move to it, when another pain hits my back. This time it migrates into my lower stomach, and I nearly fall from the force of it. It
hurts.
I would almost think it was labor, but it’s not in the right area. You don’t have contractions in your back… right?
“Oh, shit.” I groan as the pain intensifies for a minute before slowly letting back up.
“Querida?” Skull questions.
“I’m…”
“I wouldn’t go any farther if I were you, Miss. Wentworth. Everyone keep their hands up please, so I can see them.”
Just like that the day gets worse. I watch as Skull raises his hands. Then I turn to the voice that has haunted me for the last month. Michael is standing between two men. Each man has a gun pointed at me and Skull. I look at the other limo and there are three men with guns around it.
“What do you want? Haven’t you taken enough from me?” I yell and I don’t put my hands up, but Skull doesn’t seem to worry about that. He is relaxed—almost cocky.
Michael smiles, but it’s a smile which twists my insides. It’s evil and cold.
“Not quite, but I will. Now we can play this two ways. You can come along quietly and your friends get to live. Or I can kill them all and still take you. The choice is yours really.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? All of this because you have a hard on for some woman who left you years ago? Man, do you have that much trouble holding on to a woman that you can’t replace the bitch with someone else?”
My head jerks over to Six, who gets out of the front area of the limo. I agree with everything he is saying, but right now might
not
be the best time to say it. Michael looks over at Six, and I just know he’s going to order the men to shoot. So, I try to distract him.
“You have to know Dani is in no shape to travel. It will kill her. Why are you here?”
Just as I predicted, Michael turns back to face me at the mention of Dani.
“
Melinda
will be coming with me. I thought only to preoccupy myself with you for now, but seeing as I’ve yet again managed to stay one step ahead of your dead boyfriend’s club, I shall take both of you.”
I ignore the way the words,
dead boyfriend,
hurt me. If I allow myself to think about it, it will decimate me.
“Querida, there’s a gun at my back, in a holster. Lift up my shirt, slowly, and get it while Six is distracting him. Then you must duck inside for cover. Do you understand?” Skull whispers.
My heart is pounding in double time, but I hear. I reach down to feel for the weapon.
“What are you two talking about? You must know that there is nothing you can do.” Michael says. I freeze afraid he will see me getting a weapon.
“Sure there is you sorry motherfucker, we can kill you.” This comes from Torch who gets out of the limo; apparently he was driving. I thought when you rented limo’s they came with drivers? The inane thought settles in my brain, as I take the gun and carefully slide it from the holster. I hold it in front of me, below my stomach so that it is hidden behind the car.
“Now!” Skull cries while pushing me down behind the car. I can hear bullets flying all around me. They’re banging off the side of the limo and you can hear the pings as they hit like hail during a summer storm. Apparently, limos are bulletproof.
Good to know
. I slide inside the seat, figuring that was safer for the baby. Skull apparently had another gun because I can see it in his hand as he jumps in the car after me, sliding into the seat and pushing me along while he’s at it. He slams the door shut.
“Shouldn’t you be out there, you know, helping?”
“I’m doing what I am supposed to be doing. I’m guarding you.”
“I’m in a bulletproof car, with a gun I might add! Just go out there and help Six, Nailer and the others!”
“I am thinking it is a good thing Dragon saw you first. Are you always tan mandona?”
“Could you, like, speak some freaking English and if you’re not going to get out there to help them, I am.”
“No, querida, you are not,” he replies, holding my hand to keep me from moving. “My orders are to keep you safe in the car, and I shall do that. Now, let the others see to the rest. We were expecting this. Trust me.”
I freeze and look at him. “Who gave you orders?”
He doesn’t answer.
The shots are going on outside, but they have slowed down. I’m dying to know what is going on. I reach over to roll the window down and Skull grabs my arm,
again
.
“I would not do that, querida.”
“Well I would. I want to know what is going on! We can’t just hide away in here while the others are risking their lives!” I argue grabbing the gun I had put in the seat beside me. That’s when the pain hits. I scream.
“Que te duele, querida?” Skull asks.
“English!” I growl out, because it feels like a vise grip has locked onto my stomach. I feel warm fluid gushing down my legs. My water breaks. It can’t break, I’m not far enough along.
“Nicole, what is wrong?” Skull says when I start crying.
“I think my water just broke.”
“No jodas!”
Skull starts wadding up his jacket and bracing it at the door, then he slides me against it. I can’t really argue because I’m in pain. My eyes are watering and I’m trying to remember how to breathe correctly, but there was never a shower of bullets going on at the Lamaze class. Hell, I only have two classes under my belt. I know next to nothing. Dragon said we had plenty of time, that’s just another thing he was
fucking wrong
about.
“Keep the gun trained at the door, and if someone opens it you do not know, shoot.”
I want to ask him if it just wouldn’t be easier to lock the doors, but the idea of getting to shoot Michael makes me happy—so I don’t. Besides, Skull seems a little freaked out. I can understand it, I am too. But he looks a little green, so I’m afraid to question him too much.