Page 42 of Dangerously Deceptive

“I know that. That’s why I’m so okay about you going to live with Kellan for a bit. You will like it, I know, and I know you will have fun with him. You may even fall for him. But I know, at the end of the day, you will come home to me. Not because you have to, or because of some Reaper bullshit, but because you want to. We are meant to be together. I’ve known that since we were kids, and now is the time.”

I don’t bother replying, I just lean over and kiss him. The real kiss we should have had. We both stop it before things go too far because he’s right. I have to go to Kellan with a blank slate. The more I think about it, the more sick I feel. I’m about to go and live with a man for eight months. Make him think I’m in love with him, and set up a life with him and our family. Then I’m going to steal every cent he has, and leave him literally holding the baby, all while I run off back to my childhood sweetheart who I have been secretly married to that whole time.

Yeah, there’s no way I am going to come out of this in a good light at all. How did my one sliver of hope in a dark, bleak world rapidly become the thing I dread most?

As we fall asleep curled up in each other’s arms, I can’t stop my brain from moving. My poor heart feels as though it’s being torn in two. One part will stay here with Jamieson, while the other will come with me to be with Kellan. I try to think about what I would want, who I would want if my life wasn’t so crazy. If nothing had stood in our way, if Jamieson hadn’t fallen on his own sword for me, would we have run away and found the perfect life together? One where I knew no pain or hardship, where I’d never experienced abuse other than the mention of it on the TV, where I would have the luxury of thinking thank fuck that’s not me. Or, would I have wanted Kellan? If I never had to return to the Reapers for my leaving period, we would have been long gone by now. Kellan always said he didn’t want a relationship, but once our gummy bear came along, he would never see me out on my ass. He’s a good man. In fact, in their own ways they both are. I guess in a way I am lucky that I get to see what life will be like with both of them. Not that I have the luxury of choice at the end of it, but it will still be good to see.

“I can hear your brain ticking from here, Shay. Go to sleep,” Jay whispers sleepily in my ear.

“I can’t. I feel so bad. I don’t know if I can go and live the perfect life with Kellan, only for me to rip his heart out and stomp all over it at the end. I also don’t know how I can leave you, I feel like I’m cheating on you. I feel like the whore my mum is always saying I am. I just feel so lost. I wish there were no Reapers and I was free to make a decision like every other normal girl gets to. Instead, my life gets decided by misogynistic bikers who couldn't give a shit about me—present company excluded, obviously,” I cry, and Jay actually chuckles against my ear.

“Look, Shay. I know this is a less than ideal scenario, but as far as I’m concerned, yesterday never happened. You are going to go, and don’t think about Kellan, think about our little gummy bear. Your job is to make sure Kellan prepares for life as a father, and that he learns over the next eight months all the skills he needs to be a good dad for this baby. Teach him to bond with it, and how to love it enough for us all. If you get a little slice of happiness with him in the meantime, grab hold of it. Take lots of pictures, so that he will be able to show gummy bear how much they were loved, and how much love brought them into this world. I don’t ever want them to feel like they were a mistake, like we did. Then, when the time comes to break his heart, he will have another heart to fill in the cracks. It won’t be easy, I know that, but getting my little gummy bear to freedom is worth anything,” he whispers, and every single word settles down my racing heart. He’s right. I can’t view this as anything but a job. I am going and doing what I have to do to ensure gummy bear’s freedom.

“I would do anything for this baby, even if it means leaving them. They can’t have anything to do with the Reapers. But you are right, I have a job to do over the next eight months, grow this baby so it’s healthy, and teach Kellan to be a dad and a mum to this little one,” I say with a smile. I’m not sure this helps at all with the feelings I have for Kellan, the ones I know will pop back up as soon as he wraps his arms around me. But, I guess I will just have to follow his words and take it one day at a time.

“In the meantime, I have eight months to make some changes here with the Reapers. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and this stays between us or it could get us all killed. But me and some of the new generation members have been thinking it’s time for a change in leadership, and with that will come a complete overhaul in the way women are treated in the MC. If we can pull it off, get rid of the old generation, then things will be exponentially better for you here at the compound. But, if things don’t go right, I could end up getting killed.” Jamieson’s words sit in my heart like a lead balloon. Is he really suggesting what I think he is? If he is, then he’s a fucking lunatic. There is no way my father and his band of psychotic brothers are just willingly going to hand over the reins to the younger, better generations. Particularly given how much they are already suspicious of them. My father doesn’t promote any younger members unless he has to, and those he does, he finds ways to keep them in line. Jamieson is the only member under thirty that holds a title in Church, and he’s one of only two Church members that are young. For the new generation to rule, they would have to take it by force, because there's no leverage that big to make my father hand over control. He cares about nothing or nobody more than the Reapers. So, there would need to be a civil war, and one half wouldn’t survive.

I explain all this to Jay, my voice becoming more and more panicked as I explain but, as he turns me to face him in the bed, he chuckles and strokes the hair out of my eyes. When it’s just me and him, looking into each other's eyes, I see the boy I grew up loving in the body of a gorgeous man. He is still in there and the more his adoring eyes stare at me, the more my heart beats and aches.

“Please don’t die.” They’re the only words I can think to say, there’s not anything else I can say. It wasn’t until I was standing at the end of the beautiful fairy light covered garden, looking down at Jamieson, that it occurred to me, this marriage may have been forced on me, but I don’t regret it. In fact, I’m actually quite glad I will have him by my side. Leaving Kellan will be hard, and leaving my gummy bear will cripple me. Then, I have to come back and endure a life with the Reapers. It took less than that to push me into the hands of narcotics just to get through the day last time, but this time I will have Jamieson. I look forward to starting our lives together. And now I look forward to the possibility that one day, hopefully one day soon, my father will be gone and life at the Reaper compound will get a little easier.

“I promise you, I will always be here to look after you. Same promise I made to you at ten years old, that I've always stuck to. I promise to take care of you.” His words fill my heart and my soul, helping me to drift off to sleep, encased in Jamieson’s big, protective arms. Maybe life will all turn out right in the end? A girl can dream.

From the moment I step foot into Travis’ Cafe, I see the manager who was here for both the other times I came here and the nerves become apparent. He knows I’m in some fucking bizarre way attached to the Reapers, and they get the type of respect around here that they definitely do not deserve. I can already tell, as I take my usual window seat, that this is going to require another big tip. The same young waitress comes over, with a pep in her step. Apparently, she isn’t as shit-scared of me as her boss is.

“Hey, welcome back. So, my boss has asked that you keep the disruption to a minimum this time, please. Last week, with the whole biker drama you seemed to bring with you, we had a lot of complaints after you left and had to comp a lot of orders. Apparently, people were terrified, which is stupid. The biker was outside, and you and the people you were with may have got a bit heated, but you never looked like you were dangerous,” she rambles in her high-pitched, chirpy voice.

“You should be cautious about anyone in the Reaper MC. They are assholes and they are not bothered about who they hurt. They took someone important from me, broke her, and now it’s my job to bring her back to me. I can promise that if things start to get heated, we will leave. But, maybe try seating people farther away if you can. I’m hoping not to be here long,” I explain, as I wring my hands together anxiously. I mean what I said, no matter what state Shay is in, she is getting clean no matter whose baby it is. I have a programme earmarked for her.

After I got the text from Whiskey yesterday telling me to meet today, I couldn’t stop my anxiety. I feel like it’s been bubbling away just under the surface, desperate to rear its ugly head and take over me. No amount of breathing techniques, meditation, yoga, or even bollockings from Liam have helped.

As soon as he heard about the baby, he flew over from London. He is staying in my spare bedroom at the moment, ready and willing to help me with Shay as needed. As I said, I am determined to get her clean and healthy, even if this baby isn’t mine. We haven’t really talked much about how I feel about the pregnancy. I think maybe I just need to know the results first. Liam has been trying to push me, like he always does, to deal with it. At the end of the day, whether the baby is mine or not, I agreed to help her get free. To help her get set up to live the life of freedom; the only difference is, she now comes with a baby. One that may or may not be mine. Either way, I will never turn her away, I will still help her get her freedom sorted. But, if the baby is mine, I guess that life will feature me much more heavily than it would have.

Looking at my watch, I observe as the clock hands seem to move impossibly slow. It's almost five minutes past the meeting time. Not exactly criminally late, but for a guy with crippling anxiety, every minute I wait, the louder I can hear my pulse pounding in my head. As I drink the latte, the waitress brought me, far too quickly, I can feel the burn of the hot liquid as I swallow. I look down at it, wishing I had magical powers that could turn my coffee into a very strong vodka right about now.

I’m so focused on trying to turn my coffee into alcohol, I almost miss the door ringing open, and Jamieson walking in. Following behind him, with a bright smile on her face, one that is aimed straight at me, is Shayla. My heart races, only this time it’s not from anxiety, this time it’s from anticipation. I need to examine her more closely, but in just the week we have been apart, she appears to have changed so much. She looks like the Shayla I first met. Her skin is less mottled, her eyes are much brighter again. She even appears to have put on a couple of pounds. Bringing her back to a much healthier weight. It’s almost too good to believe.

As they reach the table, I stand and at first it’s awkward, like neither of us is sure what to do, until Shayla reaches out to pull me in for a quick hug, one I am only too happy to reciprocate. She holds on to me for dear life, gripping the back of my t-shirt, and I take in every second of how it feels to have her back in my arms. Her gorgeous sweet strawberry scent assaulting my senses, as her body becomes flush with mine.

I feel her breath against my ear, and I can’t contain the shiver that ripples down my spine. “I’ve missed you.” As she pulls away, giving me a bright smile, I make sure to check her pupils. This may seem like the Shayla I knew, but she could still be the high version of herself, and I don’t want to miss it simply because I’m so caught up with how she makes me feel.

She takes the same seat as last time, only before I can sit down, Jamieson stretches out his arm, indicating for me to shake it. Like we are old friends, reuniting. I can’t hide the look of shock that spreads across my face, but he just smiles and keeps his arm outstretched. Probably for longer than is socially acceptable, but as soon as my brain catches up, I shake his hand and we both take a seat.

“Nice to see you again, Kellan,” Whiskey says, his voice a deep rumble as he sits down opposite me.

“Yeah you too,” I reply, as politely as I can before turning to Shay. “You look great, Shayla. More like the old you.” Obviously I didn’t want to come out and openly ask her if she was still on drugs, or tell her what a mess she looked like while she was on them. Thankfully, she knows what I’m trying to imply.

With the ghost of a smile playing on her lips, she leans over and takes one of my hands in hers. I’m trying to get a read on them. Why is Jamieson here? Is he looking after his merchandise, and the baby isn’t mine? I can’t even think straight, I just need Shay to get to the point.

“Thanks. I haven’t touched a single drug in over a week, since I found out I was pregnant,” she explains. Just as I start congratulating her, truly meaning each and every word I say, the waitress comes over, interrupting us, as she brings over the drinks Shayla and Jamieson must have ordered when they arrived because I don’t even remember her coming to the table to take their order, and that I would have noticed.

They thank the waitress and as she leaves, all eyes are back on me again. Jamieson looks uncomfortable, but Shayla looks the happiest I’ve seen her in a while. “How have you been?” I ask, not entirely sure what else to say. Obviously, I do want to skip all the bullshit and find out what they know about the baby, but it’s not going to be as easy as that.

“I’ve been doing well. Like I said, clean for a week, which isn’t a great achievement, but it is a start. I have an appointment today to find out if everything is okay with the baby. Would you like to come along? It’s the first scan,” she says, and there’s so much I need to address in that sentence I don’t even know where to begin, but I can’t stop myself from smiling. She wouldn’t be inviting me to the scan if I wasn’t the dad, would she?

“Okay, so firstly, a week clean is a massive achievement, Shay. Don’t ever downplay that. I understand why you started using. It’s hardly surprising being in that hellhole, but the fact that you have identified something that gives you the strength to fight, to stay clean for, that is so good, and you should never play that down,” I explain. All of my research around addiction and getting clean tells me people have to have something or someone to cling to. That thing that makes them want to change, to be better.

“I would do anything for my little gummy bear.” Her voice doesn’t waver, and I can’t help but chuckle at the little nickname she has given the baby.

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