Page 41 of A Love So Hard

“Fuck no! I made an appointment with the doc. I ain’t telling her though. She don’t need to know why she isn’t getting pregnant anymore.”

“How are you going to explain the recovery time?”

“I’m going on a run to North Dakota,” he stated simply.

I nodded my head. That was probably for the best. “Yo, Double-D?” Our newest prospect called out. We hadn’t even given the kid a road name, or even thought of one yet, because none of us thought he’d make it much beyond the first month. He’d surprised us and been there for two months so far, but still, no name.

“What’s up, Prospect?”

“Phone for you,” he mentioned. “Want me to transfer it to the office?”

“Yeah, give me a minute to head there,” I instructed before heading in that direction with Merc on my tail. Two years ago, he’d made me his VP after our last died of a heart attack right there in the office we were heading for. The bastard had been balls deep in one of the club whores when his ticker knocked out on him. Poor girl flipped the fuck out and was never seen again after running from the clubhouse screaming her ass off about being fucked by dead dick.

“We should probably move the office,” I murmured as we moved toward the door. Merc snickered.

“Still can’t get over that shit.” He laughed. “Dead dick in my pussy!” He mocked the woman with a high pitch squeal to his voice.

“Jesus!” I shook my head. “That was some seriously fucked up shit.”

“He would have loved that shit,” Merc said, still laughing at the situation nearly two years later.

“Yeah, that sick fuck would have loved it. He went out just the way he always said he would.”

Once we got the door opened the prospect transferred the call and I picked it up on the second ring. “Double-D here,” I answered. If they were calling the clubhouse, it had to be club business.

“Um,” a hesitant voice called out over the phone. I heard the sound of papers being shuffled in the background. “I was looking for a Charles Brothers,” she insisted.

“You got him, what can I do for ya?”

“My name is Donna Griffith. I work for Child Protective Services, a branch of the Virginia Department of Social Services. I have your daughter here, and she…”

“You have my daughter? In Virginia?” My voice rose to a threatening tone and Merc immediately came to attention and pulled out his cell phone.

“Yes, sir. It appears her mother has passed,” she started and my whole world fell out from under my feet. Where the fuck was Lucy? Why were they in Virginia? What the fuck?

Merc shook his head quickly. “No problem, Luce, just wanted to check on you guys and make sure everything was okay. Why don’t you and the kids head on over to the clubhouse for a bit? No, it’s nothing. He’s fine. Well, see, Tiger-Lily had a miscarriage. I was hoping to get her out of the house, and figured some girl time…” He paused and the woman on the other end of the phone continued to shuffle papers or some shit.

“Sorry,” she said into the phone. “I had it hear a moment ago, but someone came into my room looking for something before I got to this call. I guess they shuffled things around a bit.”

“Look, lady, I don’t know what kind of shit you’re trying to pull but my wife and daughter are both alive and well in South Carolina,” I stated coolly into the phone. I started to hang up, but the woman caught my attention.

“Your daughter, Ever Lee Brothers, watched her mom die two days ago. It took us this long to find contact information for you. We had to track down a Mr. Adam Bolson in order to find out how and where you might be reached.” Adam Bolson was PeeWee – Pike Bolson’s – brother. Adam had been the man whose wife I’d unknowingly fucked at a club party.

I noticed that Merc hung up with Lucy so I put the office phone on speaker and let him listen in to this nonsense. “Listen, lady. I think you got the wrong person because I don’t know an Ever Lee Brothers – unless you’re saying that band’s name wrong.”

The lady chuckled. “I can assure you I am not speaking of the band. I am talking about an eight-year-old little girl who watched her mother die, and needs to be placed with family. You’re all we could track down. Apparently, her mother had no one.”

“An eight-year-old girl?” Suddenly, I was having trouble swallowing. A man’s voice came back to me from that one night nearly nine years ago. “You don’t even understand what she’s done,” he’d said to me before sucker punching my drunken ass. I’d always wondered what he meant by that. I figured it had been in reference to ending their marriage with her cheating, but now I had some serious doubts.

“What was the mother’s name?” The question rolled off Merc’s tongue effortlessly. I was glad he stepped in.

“To whom am I speaking?” The woman asked, obviously picking up on the fact that it hadn’t been my voice.

“This is Damon Donavan. I’m family to Charles Brothers, and you have him a little stumped and in shock at the moment, because he didn’t know of any children outside the ones he has with his wife. So, excuse the fact that question came from me instead of him, and just answer it.” He had his demanding presidential command lacing those words and she must have heard how serious he was because she indeed did answer.

“Her name was Marsha Bolson.”

“No fuckin’ way!” Those were the words out of Merc’s mouth before he pulled himself together. The world was still spinning a little bit so I dropped down into the office chair and just sat there staring at the phone as well as the information that was going to most likely break Lucy, and me, all over again if it was true.

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