Page 69 of Trick

“Leave some men behind in case they come back,” Blackjack says to Nicky. “See if Crank will spare anyone else.”

He nods. “I’ll let you know if they turn up. These Pioneer fuckers have been nothing but trouble from the moment they surfaced.”

The ride back is a sombre one. I feel deflated, like this is never going to end. How can I create a safe place for my family when the shit is still hanging over us?

I don’t follow my brothers back to the clubhouse, instead making my way home. Something urges me to go there, and not just because I’m still worried about Heidi. It’s like a sixth sense, a gut feeling I need to be there.

When I pull the bike onto the driveway, I notice the van sitting across the road but I don’t see the prospect inside it. That is the first thing that sets alarm bells ringing in my head. I pull my helmet off, glancing up at the house, my senses tingling.

Something is wrong.

Tearing my gloves off, I fire a message off to Prez and then I head inside.

CHAPTER 21

HEIDI

After Trick leaves in the morning, I busy myself around the house, but I’m a little slower and out of sorts than usual. I don’t feel great.

When I put Sophia down for her mid-morning nap, I go to bed myself, and within seconds of my head hitting the pillow, I’m out like a light.

I wake feeling a little more human but only marginally. Worried, I call my doctor and make an appointment.

I don’t feel right, and I don’t miss how much I shake as I lift Sophia out her cot and carry her downstairs.

At fifteen months old, she’s really flourishing, her personality coming to the forefront more every day.

Soon, the clubhouse will be full of more little ones. Both Hope and Skye are getting close to having their babies, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before the other women start their families, too.

I talk to Sophia as I bustle around the kitchen, getting her lunch ready, and she talks back to me. Her words are getting better every day, but I can only understand about half of what she’s trying to communicate.

As I open the fridge to make her lunch, the smell inside turns my stomach. There’s nothing nasty in there, just the usual groceries, but nausea bubbles in my throat and that sickly feeling I have had all morning suddenly turns into something worse. Leaving Sophia in her highchair, I barely make it up the stairs, my hand clamped over my mouth as my stomach convulses. As I drop in front of the toilet, the first wave of vomit spills up my throat. Wave after wave of intense contractions hits my stomach as I vomit up every single thing I’ve eaten in the last twenty-four hours.

By the time I’m finished, I am a shaky, sweaty, trembling mess. I lean against the toilet, trying to catch my breath as my stomach aches. If this is a virus, it’s a nasty one.

It’s not a virus.

That thought slides through my mind, and as soon as it does, I know why I feel so unwell. The symptoms aren’t exactly the same as last time, but I know I’m pregnant.

How the hell can I be pregnant? I take the shot.

Cold spreads through me. When was the last time I had it?

Shit.

I lift myself off the floor, using the basin to lever myself up. The room spins around me for a moment, and I have to close my eyes to steady myself. I don’t remember feeling this bad with my first pregnancy. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I am sick.

I brush my teeth to get rid of the taste of acid on my tongue before pulling my phone out and scanning my calendar. My stomach sinks as I find the date of my last appointment. I’m late, and not just late, but overdue by more than three weeks. How did I not get a reminder for this?

I pull up my messages and see one from the doctor’s office. There it is in black and white—a note to make an appointment. Checking the date, I see it came in around the same time I got shot.

I guess… I guess I got sidetracked.

My pulse flutters wildly as I pull open the doors to the cupboard and move bottles of shampoos out the way. In the back, I find an old pregnancy test that I came across when I was cleaning one time. I don’t know why I didn’t throw it out, but at this moment, I’m glad I didn’t.

I’m so anxious, I can’t pee for a solid minute, but eventually, I take the test, capping it and placing it on the edge of the sink counter. And then I wait for the longest minutes of my life as the test does its thing.

Do I want to be pregnant? How will Trick react? What if he thinks I did this on purpose? He asked if I was covered, and I told him I was. I thought I was.

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