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Authors: Emma Kendrick

BOOK: Strays (Red Kings #1)
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“Jackie? Honey, are you okay?”

 

She heard Elaine's worried voice call out, but she didn't even bother to answer her. The cook entered the bathroom and pushed the door to Jackie's stall open. Upon seeing the poor girl curled on the floor, hugging the toilet, Elaine's face twisted in sympathy. She gathered Jackie's hair to keep it out of her face and patted her back, rubbing slow circles on it.

 

“There, there, dear. Just get it out. It's going to be fine.” Her voice was soothing and Jackie almost felt better.

 

“Oh god.” A strangled moan came from her and she slumped on the floor, breathing hard.

 

“All done?”

 

“Yeah, all done.”

 

“Come on then, let's get you cleaned up.” She helped Jackie off the floor, looking her over. “You're not going anywhere near the kitchen again today. Are you sick dear? Shouldn't you go get checked out?” The worry that crept into her voice made Jackie feel bad.

 

“It's nothing. I think I just ate something bad and I've been paying for it all morning. I was so tired last night, I didn't pay any attention to the stuff I was eating.”

 

“Baby… are you and that man of yours safe?”

 

“Safe? What do you mean safe? Why wouldn't we be safe…?” It didn't dawn on her at first, but when Jackie saw the look Elaine was giving her, she understood what the older woman was talking about. Her shock was showing on her face and she didn't even have time to be horrified by the idea of discussing her sex life with the cook. “Elaine! Of course we're being safe! What are you implying?”

 

“I'm not implying anything, darling, but accidents happen. Fatigue? Morning sickness? The drugstore is down the street. I think you should make sure.” When she saw the young woman was about to protest, Elaine put a gentle hand on her arm. "At least do it to ease my mind."

 

“I'm not…” When she saw Elaine's worried gaze, Jackie quickly gave in. “Okay.” Sighing deeply she nodded her head. “Okay, I'll go buy a test.”

 

She rinsed her mouth with water under the cook's watchful gaze and the two exited the bathroom. Elaine looked at Jackie and then at the door, telling her without words to get to the drugstore.

 

“Okay, I'm going.”

 

Jackie got her bag from behind the counter and made for the door, telling the other waitress that she'd be right back.

 

The drugstore was just down the street from the diner. The paint on the building was chipped and the store's sign looked like it was about to fall off, and Jackie wanted to be anywhere but inside. The clerk was a middle-aged woman that looked bored beyond belief. She lifted her head when Jackie entered, but quickly got back to her magazine, not paying any attention to her newest customer.

 

Jackie made her way down the aisles, quickly scanning the shelves for the item she needed. When she found the tests, she took a moment to look at them, wondering which one to buy. There were so many of them, each one promising accurate results, each one with the word 'pregnancy' written in big, bold letters. She randomly picked one out of the bunch that were in front of her and went to the counter, nervously waiting for the clerk to look at her so she could pay.

 

The lady raised one of her eyebrows at Jackie when she saw her purchase.

 

Jackie didn't like her disapproving look. This day was bad enough and she didn't need to be judged by some uppity drugstore bitch. “What?” Her voice dripped with anger and the clerk hurriedly rung up her purchase.

 

Paying and shoving the test in her bag, Jackie got out of the drugstore and back to the diner as quickly as possible. She was beginning to feel anxious, but she knew there was no reason to worry. Dean and her had been more than careful. Elaine had to be wrong.

 

“Did you get it?”

 

Jackie had barely entered the diner when the cook arrived by her side, getting straight to the point. She exhaled and gave the older woman a small smile, trying to ease her own nerves. “Yeah, I'm gonna take it when I get home.”

 

“Good.” Elaine was about to go back to the kitchen when she hesitated, turning back to Jackie. “I'm going to take care of you, you know that, right dear? Everything is going to be just fine.” There was finality in the older woman's tone that comforted Jackie. She was glad Elaine had said that, even though there was no need for it. She was fine.

 

Entering her apartment hours later, Jackie kicked her shoes off and went into the kitchen, throwing her purse on the table. There was leftover pizza on the counter and she guessed that Tyler had been home at some point. The man never picked up after himself, leaving everything for Jackie to clean. Typical male. She shook her head and took a bite from the pizza. Pouring herself a glass of water, she wearily eyed her purse.

 

After she'd gone back to work, she had waited tables and avoided her purse like the plague, as if not thinking about the test would make it disappear. When her shift had ended, she started home with a heavy heart and Elaine's words weighing on her mind. The cook wanted Jackie to take the test first thing and immediately call her, either to ease her mind or to pile more worries on it.

 

So here she was, eating pizza and doing everything to avoid the inevitable. She had to admit that she was worried. Jackie would never have thought about this possibility on her own. The fact that Elaine found it necessary to assure her that she wasn't alone, that she had support, made Jackie's thoughts turn dark.

 

What if she was pregnant? What would she do then? Have an abortion? Keep the baby? No, that one wasn't an option, not with Dean. She was sure that he wouldn't want a child. He didn't have a place in his life for a kid, not with the club. All of the parties, the women, the crime. Dean was too comfortable with all of that to give it away for her. For a baby.

 

Shaking her head and leaving the piece of pizza on the counter, Jackie grabbed her bag and made her way to the bathroom. There was no point in torturing herself. Right now, there were too many variables, too many unknowns. She wouldn't worry before knowing for certain.

 

Getting the pregnancy test out of her bag, Jackie quickly read the instructions and followed them explicitly, not wanting to mess anything up. Waiting those five minutes for the results to appear was the most agonizing thing she'd ever experienced. All sorts of thoughts ran through her head, every one worse than the previous. Just as she managed to calm herself down, she'd look at the sink and see the stick, the whole process starting over. She was a mess, no doubt about that. Her nerves were on edge and she was about to burst into tears. Either that or she was going to break something.

 

When the time to see the results finally came, Jackie was almost in hysterics. She took a deep breath and hesitantly approached the sink, peeking cautiously at the test lying in it. She shook her head and scoffed at her actions, snatching up the stick quickly. This was ridiculous!

 

The courage she had just gathered quickly disappeared though when she looked at the results. Her world shattered in that instant and she couldn't hold it in anymore. Dropping the stick onto the counter, she slid to the floor, her hand covering her mouth. Huge sobs racked her body, the tears falling from her eyes in torrents. This couldn't be happening to her. Not now, not ever. She shouldn't have been put in this position, shouldn't have to put Dean in this position. What would he say? What would she tell him… Should she tell him?

 

She was turning into those girls from TV shows, the pregnant teenagers that didn’t know what to do or who to tell. The ones that were hesitant to tell the father, not sure what his reaction would be. Would Dean want the baby? Would he want her? Or would he make her get rid of it?

 

She curled herself into a ball, rocking back and forth. This was not happening to her. It simply couldn't be happening. Her mind flashed to the pregnancy test lying in her sink and she let out another sob.

 

There were two clear lines on the applicator. Pregnant. She was pregnant. Dean and her… they were having a baby.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

17

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May 26
th

 

Boredom.

 

That was what Dean was feeling at the moment. He was bored, irritated and itching to use the shotgun that was lying across his lap.

 

The drive to the cabin had been slow, the stop they had made at a gas station prolonging it even further. For the last hour, they had been hiding and observing the lake house, planning and waiting for the best moment to barge in. John Donovan wasn't a smart man, choosing a location like this one. It was a good place to take your mistress, yes, but an awful place for a guy that had enemies. Cut off from the world, surrounded by woods, it was the perfect setting for a horror flick. Their job couldn't have been easier.

 

The young girl occupying the cabin with Donovan stepped through the front door clad only in a bathing suit and walked to the small lake that neighbored the residence. Luke motioned to Dean and Jagger to follow him and quietly got out of his hiding place. Perfect, the mistress wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. Even more perfect, the chick had left the door unlocked for them. If that wasn't an invitation, Dean didn't know what was.

 

The bikers entered the cabin and Jagger quietly pulled at the door, leaving it open just a crack. He got his gun out and peered through the opening, keeping watch. The Macon bikers continued further into the place, being as quiet as possible. That was unnecessary, they realized, when they neared what was presumed to be the bedroom. Water could be heard running.

 

The snitch was in the shower.

 

If this had been any easier, the guy would have just come to them with a blindfold and offered them a gun to kill him with. Everything was turning out perfect.

 

They entered the room and saw that it was indeed a bedroom. Nothing special: a bed, some hunting trophies, a TV, and a door leading outside. Another door lead to what must have been the bathroom, as John Donovan's off-key singing could be heard coming from there.

 

“Go get him. I'll look for our money.”

 

Luke didn't even bother to lower his voice and Dean nodded, cocking his shotgun. He barged into the bathroom, effectively scaring Donovan to death. Flinging a towel at him, Dean pointed his gun at John's face and fixed him with a stony gaze.

 

“Nice place you got here, John. It's a pity we can't stay.”

 

“Shit! What… what are you doing here?” The words came out as squeaks and were jumbled, displaying the horror that the middle-aged man was feeling. He had gone as white as a sheet, looking as if Death himself had come to collect his soul. That wasn't far from the truth and John Donovan knew it. He was a dead man.

 

“Oh, I think you know why I'm here. Come on.” Dean motioned to the door with the shotgun. “Out you go.”

 

The two made their way out of the bathroom, the sight of Luke turning the bedroom upside-down greeting them. The mattress of the bed was flung to one side, clothes strewn everywhere. Bedside tables were overturned and lamps were laying broken on the floor, but there was no sign of the money they had come for.

 

“Kneel!”

 

It took Donovan a few moments to comprehend Dean's barked order, and the biker nudged him with the gun, bringing him to his knees. Then Dean circled to the other side, coming face to face with the older man.

 

“Where's our money, rat?” The shotgun was leveled at his face and Donovan swallowed, saying a prayer in his head. He wasn't a religious man, but he had never wanted for God to exist more than he wished for it now. “The money!”

 

“It's in the closet!” Donovan took a deep breath, unsuccessfully trying to steady his trembling voice. “There's a loose board. It's under there.”

 

Luke didn't hesitate to check, finding the loose board quickly. A hole opened in the floor and inside was a black duffel bag, similar to the one they carried their guns in. Unzipping the bag, he peered inside, finding what they had come for. The money was there and the biker smiled, nodding to Dean.

 

“It's here. Finish it and let's go.” Taking the bag and making his way to the door, the Macon president delivered a swift kick to Donovan's side, causing the fat man to land on his side. “I'll be waiting outside with Jagger. Hurry up.”

 

No sooner had he closed the bedroom door behind him, a loud bang was heard from the room. A satisfied smile came to Luke's lips and he cheerfully clapped Jagger on the back. “Let's go, Jag. There's a party waiting for us.”

 

He spoke too soon. They were almost out the door when they heard a piercing scream, followed by a second bang. There was no way Dean would need another shot to kill the snitch. Something had gone wrong.

 

Dean ran a hand through his shaggy hair and looked at the body lying in a pool of blood and glass a few feet from him. The girl had come through the back door and he had shot on impulse. He stepped closer, taking in her familiar features. She was tiny, with creamy skin and long dark hair that was spread out beneath her. If it wasn't for all the blood and the glass around her, she would have looked as though she was sleeping.

 

Jackie had looked the same when he had seen her this morning, sleeping in his bed, her hair spread out in a similar fashion. The lifeless girl on the floor looked so much like Jackie, the resemblance was shocking. He couldn't bear to look at her any longer.

 

It was like he had killed her, his Jackie. He didn't see John Donovan's teenage mistress, he saw his own lover, dead on the ground. Her blood was staining the floor, making a pool around his feet.

 

“Fuck…”

 

It was a low moan, one that wasn't supposed to be heard by anyone.

 

“What the hell happened, Dean?”

 

Luke and Jagger had entered the room, both with their guns drawn and stern expressions. When they surveyed the room and saw the damage, they lowered their weapons.

 

Dean ran another hand over his head and shook it. A minute, that was all he needed to realize that it wasn't Jackie that was dead. He hadn't shot his Jack. She was safe back in Macon. After another minute, he had fully realized the affect she had on him. The monster, the killer - he was broken. She had made him a different man and he wasn't sure that he liked it. He wasn't sure if he wanted it. He knew that he wanted her, but there was no way he was giving up what he was for the woman.

 

Dean lifted his head and looked at Luke, his expression hardening. He didn't want to leave the killer behind for Jackie. Killing was the only thing he knew, the only thing he was good at.

 

“Nothing. I handled it.”

 

Jagger ushered the pair of Macon bikers out of the cabin quickly and took off towards the black van hidden down the dirt road.

 

“What the hell was that?” Luke yelled angrily, shoving Dean as soon as they stepped outside of the cabin.

 

“Nothing,” he said firmly, trying to walk past the charter president and follow Jagger, only to be shoved again.

 

“Are you growing a conscience all of a sudden?"

 

Dean leveled his shoulders coldly and glared down at the man who he admired above all others. “I got the job done, didn't I?”

 

“That's not the point! What the hell is going on in that head of yours?”

 

“She was just a girl-”

 

“That's never stopped you before. But if it makes you feel better, next time you can leave the witness alive just because she has tits and let her ID you to the cops. Let me know how that works out for you.”

 

“Are we done?” Dean asked, ignoring the jab. He once again tried to move down the road towards the van as the other man spoke.

 

“It's that stupid bitch that you've been sleeping with, isn't it?” Dean stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around. “Jesus Christ! I knew this was gonna happen. She's got you all twisted up. Your loyalty is to this club and that patch on your chest, not to a great lay.”

 

Dean swung around sharply, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I can do my job.”

 

Luke rolled his eyes just as Jagger pulled up in the van. “We'll see about that.”

 

“You guys gonna stand around and chit-chat or can we get the fuck out of here before somebody shows up?” Jagger leaned out of the window, immediately noticing the tension between the two men. Dean grunted and walked to the back of the van while Luke jogged to the passenger side.

 

For the three hour ride back home, Dean sat in silence, ignoring any conversation from the front of the van. He was completely lost in his own thoughts after the events that had just taken place.

 

Luke had been right.

 

He had felt something after killing the woman. And it was because of Jackie.

 

It wasn't really because of anything she had done. The snitch's woman had just reminded him so much of Jackie that he had to stop, if only for a second, to make sure it wasn't her. And as thoughts of his own lady filled his head, so did the harsh realization that she knew very little about him. There was no way she would approve of his job within the club, of his almighty enforcer title.

 

She knew he wasn't the nicest guy she could have picked and that he often showed up a little bloody and bruised. But she had no idea of the extent to which he was very much the club's go-to executioner. Not just for the Macon charter, but every charter within a twelve-hour drive. He was the one that people called when they needed serious business handled efficiently and effectively.

She was bound to find out eventually. Then she would be out the door and rightfully so.

 

Maybe that was for the best.

 

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