Page 21 of Trick

I can’t do this.

“Can you watch Sophia?” I ask, standing abruptly and grabbing my phone.

Pia steadies the table as it wobbles, and a look passes between Hope and Ophelia that I don’t want to interpret. It’s just Heidi acting crazy again, right?

“Are you okay?” Elyse’s voice is threaded with concern, which surprises me. I didn’t think these women liked me, but looking around the table, all I see is pinched, worried faces.

“I’m fine. I just need to make a call.” I lift my phone to show them before I walk away.

Making a beeline for the door outside to the patio area, my heart pounds so fast, I feel clammy. I need to get control of myself.

As the fresh air hits me, I suck it back, trying to calm the panic attack that is starting to gather momentum.

I can’t break down here. It’ll raise too many questions, and I’m not in a good enough place to make them believe this is all because of Theo’s upcoming anniversary.

I stumble over to the farthest picnic table and sink onto it, closing my eyes and lowering my head nearly to my knees as I try to breathe through my growing anxiety.

In and out. In and out.

One breath at a time.

The first few inhales are shaky, and my chest is tight, like bands are wrapped around my lungs, but eventually, it starts to ease.

I don’t know how long I sit out here, but the warmth of the sun starts to seep into my bones, chasing the cold away. I tip my face towards it, letting it heat my cheeks as I listen to the sounds of the traffic beyond the walls of the clubhouse.

“Heidi?”

At the sound of my name, I jolt, my heart slamming into my sternum. My fight response tries to kick in, but I force it down as Blackjack walks over to me.

The brother doesn’t like me, which is unsurprising. There are few here who do. My blatant anger and disrespect of the club hasn’t earned me any friends among the patched men.

But Blackjack’s mistrust of me runs deeper than my anger towards his club. He wants to protect his friend, and I understand that. He and Trick have been close for years, and he thinks my motives aren’t good. They all do. I hear what they say when they think I’m not around. They believe I’m going to steal Trick’s child from him.

I can only imagine how those rumours would multiply if they knew I’d lost my own child.

“I was just going back inside.” I stand, but he blocks my path.

Blackjack is a huge guy, with shoulders that rival mountains. He’s not as fierce-looking as Terror, but he still has that dangerous edge all these men have. I shrink back without meaning to, and he must see my reaction because he tries to make himself seem smaller.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

Cold spreads up my spine. What would the vice president want to talk to me about?

He gestures for me to reclaim my seat, which I do hesitantly. My back is stiff as he sits next to me, interlacing his fingers together between his spread legs, and my chest is too tight to drag in more than a shallow breath.

“You doing okay?”

It’s not what I expect him to say, so I fumble for an answer.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” I say, trying to keep my tone light even though my stomach is churning.

“It’s coming up to the anniversary of Crow’s death.”

I flinch. I didn’t expect anyone to bring it up, yet here it is, flung right in my face.

“Yeah. It’s next week,” I confirm. I don’t give a date, though those two deaths are emblazoned in my brain.

He scrubs a hand over his jaw, and there is genuine sadness in his eyes. It makes my gut ache.

---