Bad Apple (The Uncertain Saints MC #4) (11 page)

Which I suppose I deserved.

I laughed humorlessly. No, there was no supposing about it. I did deserve it. Immensely.

Even more, I deserved to be shot for getting her pregnant in the first place.

Had I known then what I knew now, I wouldn’t have touched her at all.

I never wanted her to know those dark secrets. People looked at you differently. And I never, ever, wanted to see that look on her face as she looked at me that night after she’d found out what I’d done.

God, man.
I spoke to my best friend.
What a state I’m in. If you were here, you would’ve slapped me upside the head by now and showed me just how stupid I’m being!

I spoke to my best friend a lot. He was sort of my voice of reason during my trials of stupidity.

Or when I didn’t think I could make it through the day.

Those days were coming less and less lately, though. Thank God.

“What are you doing here?” A soft, feminine voice asked.

I turned to find Kitt standing directly behind me. How’d she’d gotten there, I didn’t know. She must’ve walked around the parking lot, seen me, and then doubled back.

All while I was talking to my imaginary friend.

“Nothing,” I lied.

She stared at me.

“You’re full of shit,” she said. “What are you really doing here?”

I shrugged. “Making sure you got here alright.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“Why didn’t you just offer to take me if you were going to come anyway?” She challenged.

I stiffened. “You know why.”

“No,” she denied, stopping me before I could get on my bike. “I don’t know why. Don’t you think if I did, I wouldn’t be so confused about this? About us?”

I sighed.

“I committed the greatest act of blasphemy by killing my best friend. If anyone ever found out, I’d be prosecuted, sent to jail, and tortured every day of the rest of my life because I was once a cop,” I challenged her.

Her eyes widened.

“Yeah,” I said. “I can see you’re getting it.”

She shook her head.

“Wait,” she said urgently.

But I didn’t wait. I couldn’t.

Not with the way her eyes held pity…and understanding.

No, not right now.

Maybe next week. Maybe next week I’d have the courage to talk to her.

Maybe next week I’d be able to go inside.

Two weeks later

I opened the door of the clubhouse and grimaced almost immediately.

Not because anything was amiss, but because the woman that wouldn’t get off my mind was standing there, talking to all of the women.

“Oh, good!” Lenore, Griffin’s wife, cried. “We need you to take us to the store.”

“What store, and why?” I asked warily, trying to keep my eyes off of Kitt while I addressed Lenore.

It was tough, seeing as Kitt was standing next to Lenore, and Lenore paled in comparison to Kitt.

Kitt’s hair was down today, flowing down her back.

She was wearing a tight white shirt, and I could clearly see the outline of her new pants. One’s that I’d seen her buy last week, even though she hadn’t seen me.

Her face was free of makeup, and her eyes were on me like I was the last breath of air in the middle of a raging inferno.

“The grocery store,” Annie answered, throwing her jacket around her shoulders. “We’re going to cook brisket for the party tomorrow.”

I blinked.

“You called me over here to tell me you needed a ride to the store?” I asked.

They nodded.

All except Kitt, who was staring at the two women on either sides of her like they were crazy.

And they were.

“Y’all realize I was at work, right?” I asked them.

Kitt winced.

“Griffin and Mig told us to call you if we ever needed anything. And we need a ride,” she replied defensively. “We’ve had too much to drink.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Well,” I said.
“How about you wait until you sober up and then go?” I suggested
. “I have to go back to work. Lose my number unless you actually need something.”

I caught Kitt’s eyes on the way out, and I swear I saw laughter there.

I’d just made it down the stairs to the under house parking that was underneath the clubhouse when Kitt caught up with me.

I knew she would.

“Apple!” Kitt cried once I’d mounted my bike. “Wait!”

I opened my eyes and stared at her with a bored sort of attachment.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Could we…is it okay…can we have a,” she cleared her throat. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”

My lips thinned. “I don’t.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“You don’t even know what I have to say,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

The move tightened the white shirt she was wearing, and my eyes immediately zoned in on her belly, reminding me just why I needed to stay away from her.

For her sake…and the kid’s sake.

They didn’t need anything like what I had to offer in life.

Destruction was about all I had to give, and I didn’t want to destroy someone like Kitt.

She’d suffered enough; she didn’t deserve to suffer more.

“I know I was called away from work to a stupid errand that was ridiculous,” I said. “And I know I would most likely still be at work if Lenore hadn’t called and said there was something she needed help with concerning you.”

“You came because you thought something was wrong with me?” She asked with a small smile covering her face.

I grinned at her and started the bike up with a throaty growl.

“Yeah,” I said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a different area I’m working today and I’m trying to cover that one and mine.”

She frowned, and was just about to say something, but I revved the bike up and drowned out whatever she said.

I left with her staring longingly after me, her heart in her eyes.

The feelings she dragged out of me, though, I easily squashed back down with the look she gave me the night she heard I killed my best friend.

No, there wasn’t going to be any her and me.

That I could promise her.

“Where’s your sister at?” I asked Ridley over the phone one week later
. “She’s late for her appointment.”

Ridley cursed. “Hold on. There’s someone trying to drink and drive.”

While I was waiting for him to get back to me, I sat down on the seat of my bike and glared at the front entrance of the hospital.

Kitt’s hospital visits were once a week at an OB/GYN’s office in Marshall and once every two weeks at a specialist in Dallas.

I went to every single one, and this week she was late.

Normally, she made them at the same time every day. This week, she was either late, or she wouldn’t be having an appointment. Both of which I highly doubted.

“What is with that look on your face?” Kitt broke in, startling me.

I jumped up, completely ignoring the fact that Ridley sounded like he was getting his ass kicked over the other end of the line and turned to stare at her.

“You’re late,” I accused.

She shook her head.

“I’m not,” she disagreed. “I made it later so I knew you’d be able to get here in time.”

I blinked.

She smiled.

“I was here in time for your normal appointment,” I told her.

“I know,” she shrugged. “But this way I get to talk to you before the appointment. And I can try to convince you that you’ll like going.”

“How do you know I’ll like going?” I countered.

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re driving me nuts,” she insisted. “Come on.”

She didn’t have to pull my arm very hard.

I went,
willingly
.

I wanted to. I wanted to know how my child was doing.

And it actually scared the absolute crap out of me to know that, one day, I’d have a kid running around out there in the cruel world we were a part of.

She held my hand as she hurried towards the door.

Then stopped and turned back to the car we’d passed on the way inside.

It was a cop.

I recognized him from somewhere, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

“I’ve got to tell him that you’ll drive me home,” she said, turning to go back to the man in the car.

Mr. Officer rolled down his window, listened to what she had to say, rolled his eyes to me, and then said something back to Kitt.

Kitt shook her head as she said something to him.

The man looked back over to me and seemed to come to a decision before he nodded once, rolled the window up in Kitt’s face, and started the car.

“What’s one of your brother’s deputies doing driving you here?” I asked her once she reached my side again.

Kitt took my hand, and the man who started to drive away stopped and glared at me.

I glared back, and clearly sent the message that Kitt was mine.

She may not be mine in the actual sense, but the woman was carrying my baby. It wouldn’t matter if he had her, either. If I wanted to fuck her life up and claim her, she’d be mine. She wouldn’t be able to resist.

But I wouldn’t be able to do that.

Not now. Not two weeks from now. Never.

“I’m seventeen weeks,” she said.

My eyes widened.
“That many already?” I asked in alarm.

That left how many more? Twentyish?

Jesus Christ. She was literally almost halfway done!

Holy fuck!

My belly started to sour as I thought about a brand new kid coming into this shitty world.

A world that was rife with war, debt, famine, and laziness.

I never wanted to bring my kid into this world in the first place. I would be a shitty ass father.

A man that thought about killing himself until he met the baby’s mother.

A man that
had
killed his best friend.

A man that had killed so many men in his lifetime that I would probably pay for it in my afterlife.

I was literally the last person on Earth that deserved something so innocent.

So pure.

“What floor are you going to?” Another woman that was overly pregnant asked.

I turned my eyes to her, and then said, “F
ourth floor.” At the same time
that Kitt replied with “Fifth floor.”

The woman pressed both the fourth and fifth floor buttons, and I eyed Kitt with confusion.

She waited until the woman got off at the third floor before she said, “I have a surprise for you.”

Brows furrowed, we ignored the doors when they opened for the fourth floor and got out on the fifth.

It opened up into a large waiting room that looked like it was the central hub for multiple offices.

We went to the one that was labeled as ‘Baby Vision.’

“It’s not a psychiatrist, is it?” I asked jokingly.

She eyed me.

“Do you need a psychiatrist?” She eyed me.

I nodded.

She snorted.

“We could write a book together about all of our experiences. I’d bet it’d be a bestseller,” she teased.

My heart started racing at the idea of telling anyone anything about my life.

It’d been hard enough telling the boys.

Telling anyone else, let alone having people read my experiences, was terror inducing.

“I…” I started to say, but stopped when Kitt went up to the window, leaned against the counter, and thrust her back out to stretch it.

“Hi, Kitt,” the woman behind the counter greeted her by name. “You ready for today?”

Kitt nodded enthusiastically. “I am.”

“This the daddy?” She asked, taking a long hard look at me.

Kitt looked over her shoulder at me, then turned back to the woman with a smile.

“It is,” she confirmed.

The woman, Ann Marie, her nametag read, smiled and stood up.

“I’m glad you were able to convince him to come,” she said. “You ready?”

Kitt nodded emphatically.

“Most definitely,” she promised.

“Alright,” she opened the door that led to the back entrance. “Did you have your pop today?”

Kitt laughed.

“Yes, I had a coke today,” she promised.

The two ladies shared a secret laugh about something I wasn’t privy to, and walked back towards a back room.

It was more than obvious that Kitt came here a lot. Enough that the two had an inside joke, even.

I felt out of place.

My eyes took in every single thing in the entire place, finally settling on the couch with a plethora of pillows mounding it.

There was also a table set up next to a computer with about eight million buttons on it.

And it was then that I realized what was going on.

But before I could fully back out of the room, both women grabbed me by a hand and pulled me to the couch that was directly in front of the biggest flat screen TV I’d ever seen.

“Today’s the gender scan. We usually do this between eighteen and twenty weeks, but since Kitt’s going to be gone to Dallas next week for some testing for her seizures, we’re going to go ahead and do it today,” Ann Marie said.

I looked over to Kitt sharply.

That was the first thing I’d heard about her going to Dallas for a week.

I would’ve asked her about it, too, but she quickly changed the subject, bringing my attention straight back to the screen in front of me.

“We get to see whether we’re having a boy or a girl!” She rubbed her hands excitedly.

I gritted my teeth and looked at the screen, trying hard to make my heart stop pounding so hard.

It was a stupid thing to try to do.

I couldn’t control my body’s reactions, which had gotten me into trouble in the first place.

“Okay,” Ann Marie said. “Let’s get started.”

I left the appointment an hour later, promising myself that I would make each and every appointment until the baby—
my baby girl
—was born.

Even the ones in Dallas.

Why, you ask, did I start wanting that now?

Because I noticed a pattern.

Kitt only had seizures after she had a long, exciting day.

And if I could help prevent that in any way, I would.

I’d already noticed she’d quit school.