Ruthless (19 page)

Bobby sighed and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, but Zag put a staying hand on Bobby.

“Ma'am, if rent was that important to you, you should've paid it before you shot yourself up. Or is that the problem? You coming down from your high and noticed your stash is low?”

“How about you mind your own business? This is private between me and my boy here.” She licked her lips. “Now, come on, baby. I need some help.”

Bobby shoved his wallet back into his pocket. “I'll help you, Mom. We can go grab a burger—there are plenty in the kitchen. And if you want, I'll put you up in a motel until you get back on your feet, but I'm not giving you any money. Not tonight. Not ever again.”

Her face went bright red and her whole body trembled. “You self-righteous son of a bitch!”

Oh dear God. Did she not realize that she'd just insulted herself? I smothered my laughter in Zag's shoulder.

“You can take your smug little girlfriend and your bullshit attitude and shove it up your ass.” With a huff, she did what Rhonda hadn't been able to do and slammed the door behind her.

“Bobby? I'm so sorry. I was nervous from all the tension and she called herself a bitch and I just couldn't—”

I broke off when Bobby's laughter filled the air.

“She did, didn't she? Son of a bitch…” His shoulders shook with the force of his laughter. And pretty soon everyone else in the room was laughing along with him. Even Zag.

“Well, if all the drama is over for the night, let's get back to the party! Where'd you put my drink, princess?”

And just like that, the moment was over. Someone turned up the music again and everyone went about like the sideshow hadn't happened. I gave Zag a small smile and gestured to the end table where I'd put our drinks.

But I wasn't ready to party just yet. “Is Tucker okay? Were you and Reb able to find him?”

Zag heaved a sigh. “Yeah, Tucker was sobbing his heart out in the backyard, so I wouldn't say he's okay. Christ, with a mother like that, who would be? I'm just fucking glad Reb finally kicked her to the curb.”

I nodded morosely along with him. I wanted to talk to him about what I'd learned from Brittany—about his childhood and his history with Reb and his family, and about how he knew how to handle Bobby's mom, but it didn't feel right to bring it up now. I'd have to bide my time and wait for a better moment, because standing in the middle of a biker party sure as hell wasn't it.

We'd had enough crazy screaming scenes for one night.

A few hours later, the house had cleared out and we snuggled on the couch. Bobby had left with some of the True Brothers to party more, but I had a feeling it was more to anesthetize himself from the horror show of his mother showing up. I'd had enough to drink that I screwed up the courage to ask, “So I met Bobby's mom. What was yours like?”

“Why the hell would you want to know about her? She's not a part of my life—hasn't been in almost twenty years.”

I pushed away from his chest and leaned back to look into his eyes. “Because your past is a part of you. I remembered you saying something about having a mom similar to Bobby's. Did what happened tonight remind you at all of your childhood?”

“No.”

That was it? No? I searched his eyes for some inkling as to how he was feeling—sad, angry, something. But if anything he looked…indifferent. Like it didn't affect him at all. His lack of expression made me see red.

“Does nothing affect you? What happened tonight with Bobby? Or Reb? Are you just dead inside?”

Zag turned to me and his eyes hardened. “Do you know what my own mother said to me the last time I saw her?”

I shivered and shook my head silently.

“ ‘Apologize to your father.' The bastard had beaten the living hell out of me the night before and
I
was supposed to say sorry to
him
. She wouldn't even let me in the front door. And he wasn't even my dad. Just her latest lover/dealer. And most likely her fucking pimp, too. So I left. At sixteen.”

“Sixteen? Oh my god. But where—how'd you live?”

“The Brothers. Those guys saved me. I'd been sniffing around the clubhouse for a few months. But that night Rebel took one look at my sorry, beaten-down ass and took me in—hell, he was only a handful of years older than me. He gave me a roof over my head, made me get my GED, and got me a job.”

My heart heavy with the knowledge of what he'd gone through, I cuddled closer to him and murmured nonsensical comforting sounds. Mentally, I filled in the rest with the knowledge Brittany had shared earlier. Even if he made Reb and the club sound like home, it still hadn't been the softest of landings.

He struggled in my embrace. “Just—I wasn't telling you for sympathy.”

“I know. I'm sorry.” I kissed my way down his torso in apology. “I have friends with screwed-up families. Sometimes I forget other people didn't have the Rockwell childhood.”

“I don't remember any junkies shooting up in a Rockwell painting. So yeah, not true for me.”

I froze at his revelation. His childhood was so fucked up it was no wonder he'd found a home with the True Brothers MC. After his parents, the club had to have become like family. Still dysfunctional, but better than what he'd had before.

Zag threaded his hands through my hair and guided my head a little farther south. “But if it leads to sympathy sex, I guess it's okay.”

Zag shifted uncomfortably and wouldn't meet my eyes. I was pretty sure he was embarrassed he'd shared so much. Not wanting to make a bigger deal of it than he was comfortable with, I closed my eyes and let him guide me toward his fly.

So I tried to show him with my actions that he was worthy of so much more. I unbuttoned his jeans and spread them open before I reached in for his partially erect cock. Taking him into my mouth, I hummed gently around it, then softly ran my tongue along the sensitive underside. Still not satisfied with his response, I pulled away and held it firmly in my hand. Taking advantage of the slickness of my saliva, I jacked his cock with my fist, then crouched down again and covered the head with my mouth. I sucked the tip with as much force as I could while I continued to run my fist up and down his length.

After a few moments, Zag shifted restlessly on the sofa. Judging by the rock-hard cock I now held, I knew I was having an impact. But when I looked up into his eyes, they filled with so much emotion—I couldn't even begin to guess what he was thinking. Clearly, his mind wasn't only on my actions. There was still too much going on in that complicated brain of his. I wanted to do something, anything, to make him understand that it was okay. That he was okay.

I let go of his cock and stood next to the sofa. Doing a little exaggerated—and extremely silly—bump and grind, I slowly peeled the clothes from my body. Zag straightened from his slouch with a shit-eating grin spread across his face. Snorting at my actions, he reached for me, but I danced out of his grasp. Instead, I turned around and looked at him over my shoulder while I slowly slid my jeans down my legs. Doing a shimmy with my hips, I let my pants puddle around my feet.

Zag moaned, then cleared his throat. “Come here, princess.”

“Uh-uh. I'm not done yet.” I hooked my thumbs into the elastic of my panties at my hips and slid them partway down. Still holding them with my thumbs, I turned around and cocked my head. “Unless you wanna help?”

“Hell yeah.”

I took a half step forward, then almost lost it as I tripped over my jeans. Zag dove forward and grabbed me. But instead of saving me, we both landed with a thud on the carpet.

I burst out laughing. And after a beat, Zag joined in. We lay there on the carpet, me on top of him, entwined in his arms with my panties half on, half off, him still mostly clothed, and we laughed.

Finally, I pulled back to wipe at my eyes. “Leave it to me to kill the mood.”

“You didn't kill anything, princess.” Zag nodded at his bobbing erection. “Come here.” With economical movements, Zag ripped the panties from my legs and had me straddling him in nothing flat. His probing fingers ran between my legs. “Do we need to do you first?”

The slickness between my thighs answered his question for me. Blow jobs always got me worked up. And if there was any doubt, what I did next cleared it up for him.

Sliding forward, I grabbed his cock in one hand and spread myself with the other. I locked eyes with him and slid down his erect length until he was seated deep inside me.

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, I slowly raised myself until just the tip was inside me, then just as slowly slid back down.

Zag moaned. “Ah, fuck me, sweetheart.”

I pushed up again to do just that when he spoke again.

“No. Stop. Fuck. Fuck. Condom.”

“Shit.” I froze on top of him. “I didn't think about that.”

“Not a big deal, princess.” Zag grabbed my hips and pulled me off him, then fished his wallet out from under him. Grabbing a condom from the depths, he passed it to me with a slight smile. “We'll be fine. What are the chances? It's not like I came inside you.”

What were the chances? With my luck, extremely high. I closed my eyes and willed the pessimistic thought away. We'd be fine. I had to make myself believe. It wasn't like we could go back in time and do it over.

We'd be fine.

The words became my mantra as I wrapped his cock in the condom, then knelt and took him inside my body once more.

And soon after that, I was too busy moaning to think anymore.

S
EPTEMBER 12

Positive
. I don't know why I expected this one to turn out any differently. I lined up the pregnancy test on the counter where the other two with the plus signs and the six tests with the two little pink lines silently mocked me. After the first three showed “Pregnant” in the little digital window, I'd gone back to the drugstore for more. Somehow I thought it would make a difference which kit I bought, but they all kept coming up the same.
Positive.

Pregnant.

Dammit. What was I going to do?

The walls in my small bathroom pressed closer. I had a tiny little baby growing inside me. My reflection in the mirror over the sink blurred and I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. It wasn't the time for tears, I had to figure out what I was going to do.

Right now, apparently, I had to puke. I raced the few steps to the toilet and heaved the remnants of my breakfast. After several painful moments, I collapsed against the wall and wiped my mouth with a clump of tissue. Was this what I had to look forward to over the next few months?

A baby.

I couldn't really wrap my brain around it. God, I could barely handle taking care of myself most days. How the hell could I look after a baby? I really wanted to curl up in a ball and be held—let someone pat my head and tell me everything was going to be okay. But who could I call? Definitely not Zag—he wasn't big on cuddling. He was more of a—

Oh my god.

Zag
.

How could I tell my bad-ass biker boyfriend he was going to be a daddy? Things between us had been guardedly calm—neither of us was ready quite yet to rock the boat with the whole “Where's this going” talk. We'd spent the past two weeks in a sex bubble with nothing intruding. Until now.

Now we had a whole other person between us. Literally. Regardless of my blossoming feelings for Zag, he was intense on a good day. I couldn't imagine what news like this would mean to him. Would he be happy? Accusatory? I really wasn't in a hurry to find out. Call me chicken or whatever, but I wanted to postpone that scene as long as possible. At least until I came to terms with the news myself.

I couldn't call my mom, either. I shuddered. I could just imagine how
that
call would go. No, thank you. As much as I loved her, this wasn't the time for prying questions about the guy in my life. And although we weren't a hugely religious family, I knew the whole “Keep the baby” lecture wouldn't be far behind her birth-control speech. Despite her ardent desire for another grandkid, I really doubted this was the way she wanted it all to come about—unplanned and without a ring on my finger.

Keep the baby. Should I? Could I face myself if I had an abortion? Of course, there was always adoption, too. My mind whirled with all the different options. My life really wasn't geared toward babies at the moment. I was dating a biker, for crying out loud. How would that go? Would we strap the baby's car seat to the back of Zag's bike?

What was I going to do?

I cupped my tummy but couldn't really feel a difference. It was still the same slightly rounded stomach. Only now there was a baby in there.

I was going to have a baby.

The thought both thrilled and terrified me. What the hell was I going to do?

There was only one person I could call—well, two really. I pushed up from the floor and left the bathroom to search for my cell. I passed by my cluttered dining table and tried to remember where I'd tossed my purse last night. Somewhere in the living room maybe? I looked in the usual spots—the floor, the couch, the crowded kitchen table. The entire time I hunted for my phone, I kicked myself for avoiding my friends lately. Despite the progress we'd made with them meeting Zag, I'd still put them on the back burner lately. The first time I met up with them was bound to be awkward. Add in the whole baby drama and the awkward factor went up exponentially. Finally, I found my purse hanging on the closet doorknob. I dug through the pockets and grabbed my cell. Pushing a few buttons, I quickly made the call.

Nicole answered on the first ring. “Hey, stranger. Long time no call.”

Just as I thought, she wasn't exactly thrilled to hear my voice. “I-I-I…” I probably should've thought of what I was going to say to her before I called. Emotion clogged my throat, making it difficult to speak. I took a deep breath. “I need a powwow.”

“Does this have anything to do with the fact that you've gone MIA for the better part of the summer?”

I didn't even know how to begin to answer that question. Yes? Kind of? I was dating a biker and got caught up in a turf war and now I was pregnant by the MC's enforcer. It sounded pretty ridiculous when I broke it down like that. But that was my life: ridiculous. I bit back my hysterical laugh but some leaked out.

“Oh my god, Jess. You sound—what's wrong? Is it something to do with Zag? Did that bastard hurt you? I swear to God if he did I'll…I don't know. But he'll regret it. Are you okay?”

My entire life had changed this morning. Was I okay? Not really, but I didn't want to scare Nicole.

I was fine.

Maybe if I said it enough times I'd start to believe it myself. “I'm fine. Mostly. I—I don't wanna do this over the phone.”

“Okay. I'll be over in ten.”

“No.” I looked around at my messy house, remembering the state I'd left my bathroom in, with the pregnancy tests lined up on the counter, and knew this was the last place I wanted to be right now. “I could really use a caffeine kick. How about the Mackay Mocha House in fifteen? Please?”

“Yeah, sure. I'll call Emily and we'll meet ya there.”

I closed my eyes in relief. I knew I could count on my besties. “Great. I'll see you guys there.”

I ended the call with a sigh. Of course, now I had to figure out what I was going to tell them.

But first I really needed to brush my teeth.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled up to the gourmet coffeehouse. Emily and Nicole were already sitting at a table by the window. The three tall cups on the tabletop meant I wouldn't have the extra few minutes to gather my thoughts while I ordered. On the drive over I'd gone through a few different scenarios, but I still hadn't decided what to say.

I walked through the automatic doors and headed for their table. The racket of the café really didn't help my raging headache. People Skyping warred with those having conversations and the whoosh of the milk steamer. And the smell. My mouth usually watered at the scent of coffee, especially Mackay's secret blend. But now it had my stomach turning.

But maybe it was just nerves. I didn't really know what morning sickness should feel like. Was this it? Maybe I was overanalyzing everything.

My face must've been full of my misery because Emily tore out of her seat and raced to my side.

“Oh my god, Jess. What happened? Are you okay? Did someone die?”

Trust Emily to immediately jump to the worst-case scenario.

“I'm fine. Mostly. No one's dead. Let's sit down before you attract everyone's attention.”

Emily put her arm around me and led us over to the table. I slumped into her embrace. I have to say, as much as I had protested a second ago, I really needed that. It was nice to know she cared so much. Lord knew I was going to need tons of support in the next few months.

Make that years.

Nicole gave me a concerned half smile. “I tried to tell Em that you were okay. But I gotta say you look like shit, girl.”

“Gee, thanks.” I climbed onto the tall chair and leaned against the back with a huff.

“Ah, come on. You know what we mean. Me and Em can tell something's wrong. Despite the fact that you've been MIA lately, you can't hide anything from us.”

“That's not exactly true,” I mumbled under my breath.

“What was that?” Emily asked.

“I asked if this one's mine?” I pulled the closest cup toward me. My earlier nausea a distant memory, the intoxicating aroma of my usual skinny no-foam, extra-hot caramel latte had me eager for a taste. But I had to wait—the ridiculously hot coffee took forever to get to drinking temperature, but then that was how I liked most things in life. With the slow burn of anticipation.

Although if memory served, that wasn't how I'd gotten into my current predicament. More like fast and hard and now. My lips curved at the memory. God, that man was potent.

“Of course.” Nicole leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “So spill. What's going on?”

“I, uh…” A hot, prickling sensation swept over my scalp as my eyes filled with tears. The thought of saying it out loud was terrifying. Like it suddenly made it more real. Apparently the dozen pregnancy tests earlier hadn't driven the point all the way home. Could I tell them? Shouldn't Zag be the first person I told? And yet I was afraid of what he'd say—how he'd react. I needed to get my own mind around it before I blurted it out. “I, um, can someone else start? I need a minute.”

“Oh, honey,” Emily was off her stool again and at my side. “Are you okay? I mean really? It's nothing life-threatening, right?”

I gave a soggy laugh. “No, not life-threatening.”

Just the exact opposite.

“Then it can wait.” Nicole gave me her suspicious side-eye, then twirled her curly brown hair into a haphazard bun and pushed a pencil in to hold it in place. “We'll sit here and gossip and swig coffee until you're ready.”

Was there any doubt why I loved these two so much? Holding the tears at bay, I smiled at the two women who I could always count on. “I haven't seen you guys in forever, so fill me in. What's new with you two?”

Nicole immediately launched into a story about the latest escapades at her job. She worked at a gaming company and did something with code. I zoned out every time she started talking about her work—it was way over my head, except the gossipy bits like how the whole HR meeting with her and her boss went down. Somehow he'd still held on to his job after that whole claiming-Nicole's-work-as-his-own debacle. The bastard.

Emily stayed glued to my side. She patted my arm occasionally. What had started out as cute and cuddly concern was quickly morphing into cloying and claustrophobic. I gave Em one last hug, then none too subtly urged her into her own chair. Now I could breathe.

I nodded along to Nic's story and reached for my coffee. When the cup was halfway to my mouth, a thought occurred to me. Should pregnant women even drink coffee? My arm froze, suspending my drink in midair. This was one more shining example of how my life was never going to be the same again. I was afraid to drink my coffee, for crying out loud. What was next?

“Jess? Jessica! Are you okay?”

I blinked at Nicole. How long had I been zoned out? I set my coffee back down and buried my face in my hands. “I'm pregnant.”

Immediately all my doubts started crowding in. What was I going to do? I couldn't be a mother—I still needed to grow up myself.

I waited for my friends to jump in and reassure me—say something—but they didn't.

I heard the usual sounds of the coffeehouse—the soft melody of Kenny G below the murmur of conversations and the whooshing of the milk steamer—but not a single sound from my table. I peeked through my fingers to check if my friends were still there. They both sat frozen with their mouths agape.

Okay, maybe they did hear me.

Finally, Emily spoke. “What? How?”

I lifte d my head and gave her an incredulous look.

“I don't mean
that
. I don't want the dirty details. Gah. But how? I mean, don't you and Zag use…something?”

I flushed. “We might've had a ‘just the tip' moment.”

Nicole finally closed her gaping mouth and cleared her throat awkwardly. “That was more than I wanted to know. Are you sure, though? Sometimes those tests can give false positives.”

“I took ten. All positive.”

“Oh.” Nicole sat back in her chair and took another swig of her coffee. “You're definitely knocked up, then.”

“Nic, shut up!” Emily hissed. “You are not helping.”

I looked over my shoulders to see if our interesting conversation was attracting attention. It wasn't. I was extra twitchy given what we were talking about. Maybe we should've gotten together at Em's house instead. Apparently a public place wasn't going to temper their reactions at all. But I'd really wanted my caffeine fix—which was getting cold, since I didn't know if I could actually drink coffee while pregnant.

Emily laid her hand on mine, drawing my attention back to the table. “What does Zag think about it?”

“I don't know. I haven't told him yet. We don't talk about the deep stuff. I don't even know how he feels about me. But it's there in my eyes every time I look at him, and I think I see it in his, too. It's like we're playing a game of emotional chicken and the first one to say the words loses.”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “That is seriously fucked up.”

“Nic,” Em scolded.

“No, it is. You've been seeing this guy for months. You either love him or you don't. He either loves you or he doesn't. That's it. But regardless, you gotta tell him. He has a right to know. It's his baby, too.”

“But it's my body.”

A heavy silence hung over the table. The implication of that statement wasn't lost on anyone. I looked down at the tabletop, afraid of the judgmental stares. Shit, what was I going to do? My eyes filled with tears I fought against. I came to my friends for support. Unwavering support no matter what I decided. Was I wrong? Should I have kept this to myself until I knew what I wanted to do?

“Jess, it is your decision. We know that.” Nicole moved her coffee cup across the table to take my hand in hers. “I just think given how you feel about Zag—and how you think about him—you owe it to him to get his input, too. But you don't have to. No matter what, this is your decision and we'll help you whatever you decide.”