Crash & Burn (11 page)

All the drugs and alcohol you’ve consumed, worried you’ll pass that shit on to your
baby. You’re feeling bad for all the nasty bitches before his or her mom. All your
bad habits start to weigh heavy on you. You feel guilty that you’re a shit guy and
how in the fuck am
I
supposed to raise a productive member of society when I’m one of the biggest fuck
ups in it? I know nothing about kids, let alone little crying babies. You worry about
how you’ll support a child, and not just financially, but emotionally. You worry about
your parenting abilities. That’s a pretty scary step on the shit show line up.

So far, I’ve gone through them all. Right now, I’m finally able to say and think the
word baby without wanting a drink. I’m going to be fucking dad …

             
             
             
             
             
             
****

It’s been two weeks and shit’s running smoothly with my brothers. A few lines on some
blow secured, also got some other shit locked down. In talks with patching in some
new brothers and I got a better lawyer for Low. Shit is finally falling into place
with my club. I’ve just gotta get my baby back.

****

             
Walking into the kitchen at the club, I walk in on something that makes me smile and
it also hits a spot in me that hurts so fucking bad it makes it hard to see straight.
Lil finally started coming back around. Shit makes me happy to see her, even if she
won’t look at me or talk to me. At least I know she’s okay and I get to be around
her. I don’t deserve it, but at the very least, I get to see her.

Walking in, she’s leaning against the counter, smiling and laughing softly. She’s
wearing a tight pink tee that shows off that tiny ass stomach of hers. If I hadn’t
spent endless hours all over that body, I wouldn’t have noticed that stomach. But
I have and I see it. Her face is lit up and happy, just like I like it. Miss that
shit. Miss it so fucking much.

Peaches is leaning into her, touching her stomach while they both talk quietly to
each other. That shit should be me. That’s my girl and my baby. I should be the one
loving the both of them.

Looking up at me, they both stop smiling. Those happy faces slip into ones of scathing
hate. Lil hates me and Peaches definitely still hates me. I hate that she looks at
me like that now. I hate that she still doesn’t want anything to do with me.

Confessions

Lil

             
How did we get here? How the fuck did I let things go this far? He went from being
my best friend and the most important person in my life to a fuckin’ stranger. He’s
turned into someone I want out of my life and at the same time I want to throw myself
at. How did we end up standing in a room together staring like we don’t know each
other? It hurts to be this distant. This is the second time I’ve seen Tank since the
night I lost my shit. I pretty much had an emotional melt down in my kitchen. Everything
had just built up, and seeing him had made it all boil over, especially asking such
a dumb fucking question. I went crazy pregnant girl on his ass. I feel good and bad
about it.

Walking into the kitchen, he leans himself against the counter and stares at me. Those
beautiful blue eyes are sad and haunted. Part of me wants to ignore him, tell him
to get the fuck out of here and leave me the hell alone. A bigger, sadder, part of
me wants to throw myself at him and cry like a giant ass baby.

“Can we talk?” He asks cautiously. There’s an emotion on his face that I’ve never
seen before; uncertainty. He’s always been confident and sure of himself. Always bossy
to the point of cocky. The man in front of me is anything but.

“Yeah.”

             
Sitting at the butcher block island, he leans against it across from me, careful to
keep a safe distance. I’m not sure if I should be thankful for that or heartbroken
that he’s finally understanding that as much as I want him near me, I don’t need it.

“Gotta tell ya some shit baby.”

“I thought
we
were gonna be talkin’?”

He asks can we talk, yet he says he’s got to tell me shit. Figures it’ll be him doing
the talking. Giving me that smirk I loved to hate, he shrugs.

“Okay so imma talk, you’re gonna listen, then you can talk if ya want to.” Bossy fucking
asshole. Some things never change.

Waving my hand for him to go on, he sighs heavily. Straightening his shoulders, he
looks me in the eyes, takes a deep breath and prepares for war.

Giving me a look he says, “Please let me say this shit. I gotta get it out.”

“Fine. Talk.”

“I’m sorry baby. So fuckin’ sorry. I fucked shit up n’ I let you down babe. I broke
somethin’ in you I can never fix n’ I hate myself for that shit. I did some shit I’m
not proud of. I hurt you n’ I’m not gonna say I didn’t mean to, because that’s exactly
what I was tryin’ to do. I was hurtin’ n’ wanted everyone around me to be as miserable
as I was. I just never meant for this shit to get here though. I let shit go too far.
I broke your trust n’ your heart, that wasn’t something I was tryin’ to do. For that
shit, I am sorry.” I listen to him talk. His deep, rough voice is softer then I have
ever heard it. It makes my heart hurt for him. He looks lost.

“I love you Lil. I really fuckin’ do. I’ll always fuckin’ love you.” When he says
he loves me the tears start to well up.

“Shit just ain’t the same without you baby. Treatin’ you the way I did was fucked
up. I shoulda never taken my shit out on you. If I could, I’d take all that shit back.”

God I wish it could all be taken back, but it can’t and we both have to live with
it.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect you to take me back. I just hope
you’ll let me be a part of you n’ the baby’s lives somehow. I just wanna know you
both. Whatever time you’ll give me, I’ll take it. So please don’t shut me out of that
little part of your life.
Please
. I don’t wanna miss anything.”

Oh God, my heart cracks. That painfully raw spot aches and burns with his words.

“I’ll leave you alone babe. As much as it’ll kill me, I’ll let you live your life.
I really will. You need me, I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. Whatever, whenever
baby.”

“Okay.” Is all I can manage to choke out before it turns into a full blown sob. My
eyes sting with unshed tears as my heart aches and beats wildly in my chest. Giving
me a soft smile he nods down at my stomach, his eyes are on my hand. My hand is rested
there on my small bump. Something I’ve noticed I do often now that’s just become habit.
I don’t even think about it anymore. I guess it helps me to feel close to my baby.

Before I can answer him, Tank takes three large steps toward me and reaches his large
rough hand out towards me. Placing it lightly on my stomach he smiles and laughs softly.
This is the first time he’s touched the baby. It’s a painful thing for me to watch;
A sad moment. This should be a happy time. This should be out of love and not guilt.
For a moment he just stares with a smile on those lips and an easiness in his eyes.
He looks me over and takes it all in. Looking up at me nods approvingly.

“Shit looks good on you baby. You make it look fuckin’ perfect.”

****

             
There are four of them here this time. Last time I came, there was only one. I could
handle one. I can’t do four of them right now. Holding hands, smiling, rubbing bellies,
I can’t fucking handle the cute couples. The sweet families, they make me sick. The
guy directly in front of me won’t keep his hands off his wife. Want to know how I
know it’s his wife? Because she’s wearing a three carat ring, while he’s got a gold
band on. Oh, and when she says jump, he asks, “How high?” Pussy. Instantly I hate
them.

I want that. That should be me. I don’t want to be alone here. I want Tank here with
me. After our “little talk”
,
I miss Tank more than ever. It fucking sucks because I’m not ready to let him back
in or forgive him. He can’t have my heart back ‘cause the fucking asshole doesn’t
deserve it. I want to hang on to that hate. I need it.

I desperately want to go back. Back before that night fucked up everything. Every
once in a while, I catch myself feeling bad for killing Josh, but not anymore. I won’t
allow myself to feel sorry for that piece of shit. He fucking ruined my life, twice.
He fucked everything up for me. He took away Tank, my chance at a fucking family,
something I deserve. I just want my life back.

The office door opens and the receptionist with the overly painted pouty lips calls
me back. I stuff my sad ass thoughts down and stand up.

             
“Miss. Cruz, come on back.”

****

             
I see Tank almost every day now. These past few weeks I’ve noticed a change in him.
I haven’t seen him drink. He’s been completely focused on the club and work. He checks
in on me daily, but gives me my space. It’s always a quick and kind, “You alright?
You need anything?” I see the old Tank coming back and I so desperately want that.
Since our talk, I’m creeping up on eighteen weeks now, and things are slowly going
back to normal. My heart still hurts every night when I go home alone to a place that
doesn’t feel like home and crawl into that bed that’s missing Tank. I hate waking
up alone and cold. Nothing feels right without him, yet slowly life is going back
to normal, even if it’s alone.

Two nights ago, I felt my baby move for the first time and it was amazing. It was
just a small flutter, but I felt it right where my hand was resting while lying in
bed. I cried myself to sleep that night. I cried because I was so fucking mad and
hurt that Tank wasn’t there to share it with me. Mad that he pushed me so much that
we ended up here. It was only a little kick I could feel on the inside, but it would
have been nice to have him there to tell him about it. I wanted to share that kind
of stuff with him. I cried because I was excited and happy too. I cried for the whole
fucking situation.

****

             
“How’s our tiny little badass today sis?” Gin whisper shouts at my stomach, touching
my belly as he sits down next to me at the bar. The cat is out of the bag, or should
I say, the baby is out sticking out from the belly. Everyone knows. Everyone’s excited.
A few days ago, I visited my dad and told him before it got back to him. I wanted
him to hear it from me.

             
I’d never been a fan of jails, but I hate them even more now that my dad is locked
away in one. I hate having to visit him through glass. I hated seeing him cuffed and
shackled. Sitting down at the glass visiting window, I picked up the phone and waited
for him to do the same. I watch and wait for him.

             
Clothed in an orange jump suit, he worked his way to me, followed by two guards. Passing
people who were already seated at their visiting windows, they all give him a respectful
chin lift, and he returned them. Once his eyes landed on me though, his face lit up
like a fucking Christmas tree. Those tired eyes brightened for me. And for the first
time in a long time, he smiled. He sat down and grabbed the phone instantly. 

             
“Doll face,” he greeted me softly. Just hearing his gruff voice and seeing his face
made me teary eyed.

“Hi dad. I miss you.” A sad smile touched his lips and he nodded once.

“I know baby.”

“How are you dad?”

             
“Survivin’.”

“You eatin’ okay? You need anything. Are people treatin you alright?”

He laughed and shook his head at me. I worry about him in there ‘cause I’m not there
to keep an eye on him to make sure he’s eating well, or that he’s got clean laundry.
Hell, I worried about him when he was just sitting at the club.

“I’m okay Lilly. Foods shit, but I get commissary. People are people in here.” He
wouldn’t tell me even if shit was bad, but he looked alright. Tired, but okay.

“I’ve got some news.” He was excited for me. He was happy to be a grandpa.

“So imma Pops now, huh?”H
h
e said thoughtfully with a smile on his face. I told him all the baby details. I filled
him in on all the good things happening and it seemed to make him happy. He looked
like he enjoyed hearing about all things baby. No need to lay all the bad shit on
him.
Surprisingly, he didn’t bring much up about Tank. He just told me to take care of
myself and the baby.

“Love ya doll face.”

             
I left him with that happy news. I knew he was happy for me, but there was regret
there too. I know his decision to turn himself in weighs on him and I know it bothers
him that he’s not here with me to help, not here for his brothers, the club. And now
he won’t be here for the baby. But he lives with his decision, because he knows he
was protecting his family. It’s always bitter sweet to visit him.

             
Everyone else around the club seems excited about the baby too. Some of the guys
could care less either way, but the majority of the guys seem happy about it. Of course
all the ladies are excited for the baby. They’re all baby whores and can’t wait to
get their hands on my baby. The ladies are excited to cuddle and kiss on my baby.
Of course, all the guys say shit like they can’t wait to put him on his first bike,
take him to his first strip club, or give him his first sip of beer. For the record,
none of that is happening until my baby is thirty. According to all the guys, I’m
having a boy and none will hear that it may be a girl. Most of the Old Ladies want
a girl. It’s a tossup really. At times like this, I really wish my mom and dad were
here to join in on the baby debate. They could enjoy their first, and probably only,
grandbaby. If I think about it too much I’ll cry, so I stuff it away with all my other
feelings I can’t and don’t want to deal with.

“Baby’s not hard of hearing Gin.” Leo chuckles from a few stools down.

“Well
he’s
in there floatin’ ‘round in water. You ever hear under water? Yeah it’s fuckin’ impossible.”

“Amniotic fluid.” I correct him.

“Shut up. That is one gross fuckin’ word.” Tags mumbles as he walks by making a gagging
noise.

Gin punches his shoulder as he walks by and says, “Placenta.” Slow and drawn out.

Tag proceeds to gag and shake his head. “Fuckin’ hate you, asshole.”

“Doin’ your baby homework?” I tease Gin on his baby words. He shrugs and smiles sheepishly.
Peaches has been a little baby crazy since we found out. At first she was sick about
it like me, but now that she has a new reason to shop and someone to dress up and
spoil, she’s okay with it. She’s been cramming anything baby down Gin’s throat, or
anyone within ear shot. Stitch sits down next to Gin with a beer in his hands and
just like they all do, he touches my belly. I thought it’d bother me, but it doesn’t.
It’s their thing. They all do it so I let them have it. They consider my baby, our
baby. We are family, so I totally get it.

“Somethin’ like that.” Gin says with an eye roll.

“You know it might be a girl.” I tell them. Stitch chokes on his beer and glares at
me right along with Gin, who looks like he might throw up. Fuck, what’s the issue?

“You don’t want it to be a little girl?” I ask them. Stupid question, but it is fun
to fuck with them. They both almost look squeamish when I say the word girl.