Текст книги "Desertion"

Автор книги: River Savage

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

“Night,” she replies before hanging up. I flick the bedside lamp off and let my eyes drift shut, hoping again tonight, I won’t dream about bombs and fucking dying. Instead, a dream of a cute brunette who likes to suck cock would do the trick.

Ten BELL

“Someone help me,” a deep voice shouts down the corridor, echoing off the walls of the hospital.

Standing from the desk, I step out and peek my head around the corner. “My fiancée is in labor,” a man holding his very pregnant fiancée, who looks to be in the throes of a deep contraction, shouts out. He looks familiar, but my eyes refocus on the woman.

“Here,” I call, getting his attention.

“The baby is coming, now.” He moves toward me as I rush for a wheelchair and meet them halfway.

“How far apart are the contractions?” I ask when he places her in the chair.

“Every three minutes,” his fiancée pants.

“Holly?” I finally get a look at her face and realize it’s her. Holly and Sy.

“Oh hey, Bell.” She tries to smile, but her face contorts as pain hits her again.

“How long has it been at three minutes?” I ask, trying to get every detail I can for the midwife.

“Her waters broke twenty minutes ago.” Holly’s badass biker, Sy, takes over answering when she gets stuck on a bad contraction.

I look up at the man for the first time and notice he’s wearing his leather cut. A Knights Rebels’ cut. For a second, I falter thinking of Jesse.

“You’ve done this before?” I ask him over the screams of Holly.

“You could say that.” His eyes don’t leave hers as hers don’t separate from his.

“You’re doing good, baby, so close,” he encourages. “She’s not due for another two weeks,” he continues, giving me all the information I need.

“What’s your last name again, Holly?” I stop at the desk and ask the receptionist to page Dr. Fry.

“McAdams,” Sy answers and pulls out her health card.

“They’re going to need you to fill out some paperwork,” I tell him as another contraction has Holly screaming out. I might not be experienced in knowing when a baby is about to come, but I’ve seen a few labors and I know she’s close.

“Fuck the paperwork,” he says, throwing the card down on the desk.

“Oh, God, God, God. The baby’s coming, Sy.”

“Okay, let’s get you down to a suite.” I move back around the wheelchair and start to move her. The midwife, Cherry, walks out and follows us into the birthing suite. Rushford Hospital has its own birthing wing. I don’t get to come down often, but now that I know Holly is about to have her baby, I wish I could stay.

“Okay, this is where I leave you guys.” I step back and let Cherry move in.

“What?” Holly cries out and grabs onto my arm. “You can’t leave, Bell. Please, I need you to stay.” Her panic turns to pleading.

“I’m happy for you to stay,” Cherry says and moves in to help Holly up on the bed.

“Oh, okay,” I reply, watching Sy move in behind Holly and pull her back to his front. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a father take charge and I’m thrown for a minute.

“Are you sure, Holly?” I ask, not sure why she would want me here.

“I can’t do this, Sy,” Holly cries as Cherry pulls her panties down her legs to check her.

“You’re already doing it, baby. We’re doing it together. Don’t you want to meet our son?” He kisses her head. So in control, I’m drawn to watching them.

“She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want you.” Sy looks up at me giving me the confidence I need.

“She’s ten centimeters,” Cherry cuts in, pulling me out of my trance. “Get gowned up,” she adds, moving over to the phone, calling to see how far away the doctor is.

“He’s coming?” Holly pants, as the room becomes a blur of action. I step back as I let Cherry and the doctor through.

“I need you to give me a push, Holly.” Dr. Fry comes to stand between her legs, gowned and ready to deliver her baby.

Holly draws a deep breath and begins pushing with the help of her man counting to ten.

“Good, very good, Holly. If you can give me a couple more of those, then we will get to meet this baby of yours very soon,” the doctor says and I watch as determination spreads over her face.

“You can do it, baby,” Sy whispers.

“Nurse Johnson, come and take a leg,” Dr. Fry orders and I follow, taking one leg as Cherry takes the other.

I hold her leg, and she takes another deep breath as she pushes to the count of ten again, this time pushing harder.

Not able to hold back, I look down as she pushes and I get a small glimpse of her baby. “I can see the head,” I encourage, spotting dark curls.

“You can?” She looks up at me and I nod encouragingly.

“Dark hair,” I tell her and her smile is blinding.

“Like his daddy.” She looks back at Sy and he kisses her.

“One big one this time,” the doctor encourages, and Holly gives it all she’s got.

The head crowns and the doctor orders no pushing for a moment.

“I need to push. I need to push,” she pleads but manages to hold off. Sy keeps whispering encouraging words, while Cherry and the Dr. exchange a few words about the next push.

“Okay, give me all you’ve got on the next contraction, Holly, and I’ll have your boy in your arms,” he says, and before I know it, the wailing cries of a newborn echo throughout the room as the baby is placed onto Holly’s chest.

“You did it, baby.” Sy kisses her head as Cherry moves to take the baby− conducting all the quick checks before quickly wiping and swaddling him. Once Dr. Fry has delivered Holly’s afterbirth, Cherry hands him back to her.

“Oh, God, look at him, Sy,” she cries, holding her new baby in her arms. “Hi Xzavier Dean,” she whispers and the name is just so adorable and fits him perfectly.

“I am, baby, and he’s beautiful,” he whispers as a tear falls down his face. I have to look away, giving them the intimate moment they deserve.

“You did very well, Holly,” Dr. Fry says after a few more minutes of tidying everything up.

“We should weigh him, Holly,” Cherry says, turning back to her. “Would Dad like to help me?” she asks Sy, as he carefully shifts out from behind Holly. He kisses her softly, whispering, ‘Fuck, I love you,’ before taking Xzavier and following Cherry.

“Thank you, Bell.” Her hand reaches for mine.

“You’ve come so far, Holly.” A tear falls from my own eyes as I remember back to last year when Holly was in the hospital.

“We have, haven’t we?” She looks over at Sy and Cherry as they weigh her son.

“You deserve it, and Xzavier is beautiful,” I tell her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it.

“Seven pounds six ounces.” Sy walks back over, revealing the weight of his new son. “So proud of you, baby.” He hands her back Xzavier and I step away to give them the privacy they need to bond as a family. And what a gorgeous family it is.

“He’s beautiful, Holly,” Kadence whispers from the visitor’s chair holding baby Xzavier for the first time.

“Thanks.” Holly smiles, forcing her eyes to stay open. She must be exhausted. It’s been a few hours and I thought I would come in and check on her. She still hasn’t had any rest.

“Oh, great, another biker daddy to deal with around the clubhouse.” Jesse’s voice echoes from the doorway of the room, halting all conversations. Shit. Keeping my eyes down on my chart, I slowly step back. I’m not ready to see him today, especially with all his friends around.

“Jesse, don’t be a douche bag.” Holly laughs as he walks straight to her and bends to give her a kiss.

“Proud of you, darlin’,” he whispers, but I still hear him as I place Xzavier’s chart back in its spot and slowly step back. Yeah, Jesse might act like this I-don’t-give-a-shit type of guy, but the more I learn about him, the more I know it’s not true.

“Thanks, Jesse.” She sighs then looks to me. “Did you hear? Bell helped deliver X.” Holly winks at me and I have to hold in my need to roll my eyes at her play. She’s been drilling me about Jesse since I came by, even going as far as to tell me she hasn’t seen Jesse pick up any skanks since the night I left his room. If only she knew how much time Jesse and I have been spending together. Besides the few dinner dates and hospital run ins, we’ve been talking every night for the last two weeks. Every night without fail.

“Did she?” Jesse smirks a knowing grin to me and I didn’t realize how much I missed the cheekiness of it, until it’s staring me in the face. “How are you, Bell?” He asks, stepping closer. He knows how well I’ve been. I just spoke to him last night.

“I’m well, Jesse.” I step out of his way, not needing him to get too close. “Holly, just buzz if you need anything.” I run my finger down baby X’s face, wanting to feel him one more time and move toward the door.

“Can I buzz you if I need anything, Nurse Bell?” Jesse teases but I don’t respond, letting the room laugh at his antics. Such a typical Jesse move. What surprises me is how much I love it.

“What time do you finish up tonight?” Cherry asks when I step behind the nurses’ station.

“I finished my shift thirty minutes ago, but I was just making sure everything was settled.” I tell her, knowing I didn’t have to stay. I wanted to.

“Good, you look exhausted,” she notes and she’s not lying.

“I feel it,” I agree, taking my bag and grabbing my I.D badge.

“You up all night with some lucky man?” Cherry teases and she’s only half right. I spent all night talking to Jesse on the phone, hanging up at three, only to wake up at seven for my shift today.

“Something like that.” I shrug, not even sure what is happening between Jesse and I. It’s not like we’ve labeled it. Hell, it’s not like anything has even happened since our kiss on our first date, but every night he sends a text and every night I respond, which only leads to more texts and then a phone call which can last hours. We don’t talk about what’s growing between us. We just talk. About what? Who knows…everything, and anything? Paige, my family, my job. He talks about the club and Liquid. Once, he talked about his time in the Marines. But only once and it felt forced. He doesn’t talk about his family, only his club family, but even if he’s selective, I still feel like I’m getting to know him more and more.

“He sounds interesting.” She laughs.

“Barely,” I lie, hoping to put her off the scent. The last thing I need is her drilling me about a mystery man.

“Well, have a good night.” She waves me off.

“You too,” I call and hit the elevator button to take me to the main lobby. The cart arrives in no time, but before the doors close shut, Jesse manages to sweep in.

“Barely interesting?” he mocks, stepping into my space and repeating my words back to me.

“What?” I ask, realizing he heard the conversation between Cherry and me.

“I’ve been keeping you up the last week ‘til three a.m. and I’m ‘barely interesting,’” he teases but I can hear a small amount of annoyance in his tone.

“Please, what did you want me to say? Oh, there’s this guy, who only calls me at night, and it’s this big secret, and I have no idea what he really wants with me, oh and he’s helping me find my sister,” I retort and feel stupid for speaking any of it aloud.

“Sure, why not?” He smiles the same smile he uses when he’s trying to get me to react. “Sounds like a nice guy.” He leans down into my space and slides his lips over my cheek. “How are you, sweetheart?” He pulls back waiting for an answer, but still lingers close.

“Tired,” I reply, wishing he would step back and step closer all at the same time. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you would visit with Holly for a while.”

“If you’ve seen one baby, you’ve seen them all.” He shrugs, but I know he’s full of shit.

“Why do you do that?” I ask, calling him out on it.

“Do what?”

“Act like you don’t care?” My accusation freezes him for a brief second before he recovers.

“Who says I’m acting?” He steps back, a coldness to his tone.

“I am,” I challenge but I don’t know why. We both know Jesse is a man who hides; why I feel the need to call him out on it right now I don’t know. Maybe it’s my way of dealing with the uneasiness of what is happening between us.

“Well, you’re wrong.” He shrugs, his flirty attitude gone, replaced with an almost pissed off one.

“If you say so.” I stop before I push too far. His reaction pisses me off, but I have no right to be pissed. Right?

“I do say so,” he repeats as the door opens. I step out and expect him to follow, but he doesn’t. Just stands there.

“Bye, Jesse.” I wave as the door closes but he doesn’t reply. Letting the situation sink in for a minute, I move away from the elevators and find myself a chair in the waiting room. My stomach sinks as I replay the conversation over in my head.

What the hell just happened? I went from experiencing something so beautiful and coming off a high to Jesse dismissing me.

I can’t keep up with this man.

Eleven JESSE

“Look who decided to show,” my brother Jackson taunts as I get off my bike. It’s Friday night, games night, and I’d rather be anywhere but here. Yet here I am. The truth is, it’s for Bell. Jackson has me by the balls, only helping me if I keep the peace with the family. I wish I could walk away from it all, from her, but the last few weeks have messed me up, ever since the night she called me out in the elevator. I wish I could have answered her truthfully, but I didn’t. Even after, I tried to pull away from her, which only lasted a few hours, before I went back to texting her. No matter how hard I push her out of my head, it’s like she keeps creeping back into my thoughts, and I can’t stop her. My drop ins at the hospital died off, unsure where we stand, but still even today, two weeks later, the need to go see her grows stronger. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. My balls are fucking aching, and my head is messed up all over a bitch I haven’t even fucked.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t hold your breath. I can’t stay long.” I walk past him before he can argue with me.

“You’re staying ‘til the end, asshole,” he catches up and warns close to my ear. I don’t correct him. He’s my big brother and thinks he has some control over me, but he’s wrong. I’ll leave if and when my dad turns into an asshole.

“Hello?” I call out as I enter my family home.

“Jesse,” my mom’s excited voice calls me to the kitchen. I kick my boots off, remembering my mother’s rules and walk through my family home. I fucking hate coming back here. Hate being in the same room as my father, but my mother, I can never say no to my mom.

“Hey, Mom.” I lean down and give her a tight hug. She brings her arms around me as I lift her off her feet. She’s short, five foot one, and ever since my brothers and I hit puberty, tall men have surrounded her.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers in my ear before I place her back on her feet.

“It’s only been three weeks, plus I’ve been busy. The club has been crazy.” I take a seat on the stool across from her. She smiles her warm ‘mom’ smile. She looks different today. The soft lines that I’m used to seeing around her eyes seem deeper and her short blonde hair is pushed back like she ran out of time. Or she couldn’t be bothered.

“Too busy to see your mom? I thought I taught you better, son.” My father’s voice comes from behind me, stopping me from asking if everything is okay. I keep my expression blank, trying not to let him rile me.

“You taught me a lot of lessons, Sir.” I stand, turn and address him. For a second, I see an old man, a sad old man. His graying short-buzz cut is kept tidy, not a hair out of place. His dress shirt and pants pressed nicely, the picture-perfect husband. If only it were true. He holds my stare for a moment, both of us eyeing each other. It’s like this every time I come here. I don’t know what it is about me that rubs him wrong, but it’s been like this since I can remember.

“You’re still running around with your gang, so looks like you need some reminding of some of those lessons.” He motions to my cut. My fist clenches by my side. His dig at my club is the usual blow he delivers, so I block it out. I didn’t come to fight tonight. I came here to help Bell.

“Dad.” Jackson moves into my view. “We should check the grill. Meet me out there.” He nods to the back deck, trying to defuse the situation before it blows. Colonel Carter nods at me, his eyes telling me this isn’t over before turning to follow Jackson outside to the grill.

“Well, looks like things haven’t changed.” I turn back to my mother and catch a flicker of sadness in her eyes.

“He’s trying, Jesse.” Her voice is soft, but holds a bite to it. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d try and shake some sense into her.

“Yeah, I can tell.” My sarcasm is evident but she doesn’t comment.

“He stopped drinking last month.” She goes back to making the salad. I try not to let the news of my father being sober affect me. I always thought the alcohol was to blame for the intense hate he has always shown me and my brothers, but hearing the news that he’s been sober for over a month, sober today, rules out that assumption.

“Wow, is that the longest he’s been?” I finally acknowledge the news of my father’s sobriety.

“He’s really trying, Jesse.” She looks up and I can see the trust she has for him in her eyes. She honestly believes he has changed, and I’m happy for her, but for me, a month of sobriety does nothing to squash the deep hatred I’ve had growing for my father over the last thirty-four years.

“So, where’s Jay?” I change the subject and ask about my younger brother. The last thing I need is to get into it with my mother.

“He’s away, some police conference in the city.” She fluffs her hand about, not really understanding my brother’s job. Jay works undercover, only a select few know his real job; my mother is not one of them. I’m not close with Jay. Being seven years older than him, there was never really a time when we clicked. By the time he was old enough to be even remotely able to hang out, I was long gone. I couldn’t wait to get out of this place. Out of my father’s control.

I look around at my old kitchen. Memories are etched into the walls, reminding me of the shit I used to get up to. I fucking hated it. Always have. I don’t even know how Jackson comes here every week. I’ve never been like him. Maybe that’s my problem. Some call it middle-child syndrome, and maybe a deep-seated part of me agrees. I’ve always lived in the shadow of Jackson my whole life. Perhaps it’s what my issue is.

“So it’s just Jackson and me?” I ask, leaving the past behind. There’s no point asking questions when no one wants to answer.

“Just us.” She looks up from her carrots.

“This is going to be fun.” I remark knowing without Jay here, the Colonel will lay it on thicker with me.

“It’s going to be fine, Jesse. Just don’t push him.” She continues cutting up the carrots. I try not to let her comment piss me off, but it does. Everyone knows he’s the issue. Yet the more everyone steps around it, the more he continues to be an asshole.

“Steaks up,” Jackson calls from the deck.

“Can you help me with the plates?” Mom asks, rushing around the kitchen.

“Yep.” I move to grab them, but before I do she reaches for my forearm and looks up at me.

“Promise me, Jesse, don’t push him.” I could give it to her straight. Tell her it wouldn’t mater if I pushed him or not. The man is an asshole. But I know it wouldn’t matter what I say. She wants me to be the bigger person. Whatever.

“Fine,” I agree, hating myself for it. I’d do anything for my mom, even deal with my asshole father for her.

“You just gonna stand there boy, or you gonna help around here?” My father breaks the moment throwing me straight back to hating the asshole.

“That’s why I come here, isn’t it? A nice cooked meal from Mom?” I wink at my mother and brush past my father. He mumbles under his breath, ‘Good for nothing,’ but I don’t bite back. The night has only just started.

And going by the first five minutes, it’s going to be a long one.

“I call bullshit,” my father shouts, breaking his record for the longest time he doesn’t lose his shit.

“John dear, maybe we could play another game.” Mom tries to calm the situation between my attitude and my father’s temper, but I don’t think there’s any going back. Once again, I have managed to piss him off.

“No, Catherine, I’m not playing another round until Jesse admits he’s wrong,” he huffs. It’s almost laughable that a sixty-year-old former Marine is sulking like a three-year-old, but we are talking about John Carter, the man who doesn’t like to lose.

“I’m not wrong.” I laugh, not giving in. I want to point out the rules are clearly written in the instructions, if the asshole just read them, but that would only push him deeper into anger. This right here is where I differ from my brothers. Where they will concede to keep the peace, I don’t give a fuck. The man dictated our whole lives. I refuse to allow him to have any control over me as an adult.

“I think we should play a round of Pictionary,” my mother tries again, but like always, it just pushes my father more.

“I’m not playing no damn Pictionary.” He sweeps his hand across the table, knocking off all the pieces of the board game.

“And that’s my cue,” I say, knowing when it’s time to leave. A few years ago, I would’ve stayed, engaged in this drawn-out argument, but it wouldn’t matter; my father is a stubborn man. There’s no telling him.

“Jesse, please.” Mom stands, frustrated at the outcome. I don’t know why she’s so shocked. It’s how we always end one of these nights.

My father blowing up, then me leaving.

“I really do need to go, Mom. Got shit I need to tend to.”

“Watch your language, son.” My father stands, pushing his chair back in anger.

“Goddamn it, Dad.” I turn to him. My patience is wearing thin. The old man cusses all the time, but because I do it, it’s wrong. Fuck me. I never win.

“You might not respect the rules I lay out, but you will respect your mother’s, and you do not use God’s name in vain.”

“Sorry, Mom.” I lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for dinner. I love you,” I tell her and step back.

“Walk me out, Jackson?” Jackson nods and stands to follow me.

“Sir.” I nod to my father, then head for the door. He doesn’t reply until I get to the door.

“Why do you bother to come here if you hate me so much, son?’ His question jolts me for a moment while I try to digest it. What the fuck?

“I don’t come here for you. I come here for them.” I nod toward Jackson and my mother. Part of me wished it were different. Maybe a long time ago we could have fixed some of the issues, but he refuses to acknowledge any of our problems. Acknowledge where he failed. Knowing my father won’t respond, I continue walking outside, without another word.

“Jesse, wait up,” Jackson calls as I make it to my bike.

“Jesus, Jackson, I don’t know why the fuck you insist on this shit,” I complain, putting my helmet on. I know deep down why I still come when he asks. Because I wish I had some kind of closure with the man. But after today’s visit, I realize I’m never going to get that. “Every fucking time, and I didn’t even start this one. I’m fucking done, Jackson. No more. He’s dead to me. You hear.”

“He’s fucking dying, Jesse.” The words are barely above a whisper, but I hear them clearly. It’s as if my brain short-circuited and needs to be rebooted. Around me, everything is moving fast-forward while I stand motionless in the middle of it all.

“What?” I think I ask, but I can’t be sure over the ringing in my ears. The irony isn’t lost to me that the moment I decide to cut him out I get hit with this news.

“Cancer. Stage Four.”

“What are we looking at?”

“He doesn’t have long,” he confirms. My hand finds my bike seat so I can steady myself. Jackson’s eyes follow my movement but he doesn’t comment.

“How long have you known?” I mumble still unsteady.

“Last month, I knew something was up when he gave up the booze.”

I nod, trying to take it all in. “He didn’t want me to know?” I ask, and I know I’m right when he doesn’t answer. “Why?” I ask, taking another blow. Why does he fucking hate me so much?

“Why do you think? You both can’t stand to be around each other.”

“So?” I shout, pissed off I was left out. I’m not even worthy enough to know my father is dying.

“He was going to tell you tonight,”

“But instead, he fucking had digs at me all night,” I accuse. The sting of rejection never gets old. “I shouldn’t expect anything less of him.”

“Jesse, can’t you see he’s trying. You sure as hell make it hard on him. Fuck, if you had just eased up.”

“I gotta go, Jackson.” Overwhelming panic starts to box me in. Clawing up my spine it threatens to drag me down. I can’t stand here and listen to how many times I have fucked up, when the old man gets a fucking pass.

“Jesse, don’t ride off like this now. Come back inside.” Jackson tries to calm me, but standing here now, knowing what I know, I need a minute to think.

“You got any news on Paige?” I mount my ride and start my bike.

“Not yet. We got a lead thanks to some info Beau picked up, and we are working on it.”

“Keep me posted,” I tell him as I back out of the drive.

“Stay, Jesse,” he pushes, but the last thing I want to do is stay. I shake my head, and then take off, leaving the sound of the tires screeching in the air.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I have to clear my head.

Fuck, my father’s dying. I couldn’t tell you how many times I wished the man would die. Wished he wouldn’t come home after a tour. Even fucking prayed. And now, knowing it’s going to happen, I don’t know how to respond.