Page 21 of Deserter

I turned to go out and find someone when I remembered that every chapter was here. Wolverine’s words rang in my head:

“A good leader acts out only when necessary. If you have to use your fists to gain respect, then you’ll fight for it the rest of your life. ‘The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.’”

I needed to remember who the real enemy was.

I leaned against the wall next to my room, inhaling and exhaling until the urges passed. My enemy wore a badge, not a kutte. I just had to bottle what I was feeling and save it for tomorrow’s ride.

Maybe I’d shower and take my frustrations out on one of the girls. They usually enjoyed that. I opened the door and flipped the light on and there she was; the woman I’d been trying to avoid all night.

“Is there a reason you’re in my room?”

She stood up and held her chin high as I stalked toward her. “I…” Her voice wavered slightly, but she stood her ground. “I need to talk to you.”

I kept my pose casual as I stared down at her. “You should be off with your man, not chasing after his brother, don’t you think?”

Betsy swallowed nervously. “He’s indisposed at the moment.”

The way she said it told me everything I needed to know. Sullivan was off fucking a club whore. “And? Why are you here?” I enunciated each word as if she was stupid.

“I’m six months pregnant.”

I looked her up and down again. “Congratulations, but you didn’t need to come down to my room to tell me.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s yours.”

The room shifted, and I gripped her shoulders in my hands, squeezing until her eyes widened in fear. “What the fuck are you trying to pull here? You want money? What—what the fuck do you want?”

“I don’t want anything from you, I swear! I just thought you had a right to know the truth. I swear I didn’t know that Michael was in your club or, or any of that—” Her voice broke off in a sob and she looked up at me with watery eyes.

My head was a fucking war zone. I’d wrapped it up, meaning there should’ve been zero chance that the kid in her belly was mine, but the look in her eyes told me she was telling the truth.

I’d been looking for a fight though, and I wasn’t going to wave the white flag and admit defeat. “I used a condom, sweetheart. Maybe track down one of the other guys you were fucking—”

“You were the only one I was fucking,” she hissed. “I’m just as scared as you are right now, believe me. If Michael knew…” A visible shudder passed through her body. “If Michael knew, I’d be dead.”

Ma.

Jesus Christ, every time I saw this broad, I was reminded of my dead mother. It damn near knocked the air from my lungs.

“I can’t—are you sure?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Michael had started prospecting for the club and he’d gone on a run. He was always gone, and I couldn’t stand being alone for a moment longer. I went out and found you and now, here we are.”

I nodded as my legs began to buckle underneath me. I sank down onto the edge of the mattress and tried to wrap my mind around the fact that, in spite of my best efforts, I was going to be someone’s father.

“Can you?” Betsy began, before biting down on the corner of her lip. “Can you please touch me? Michael hasn’t since he found out about the baby and I just need to feel something.”

Without waiting for a response, she moved in front of me and brought my hands up to rest against her belly. It was firm beneath my palms, which was unexpected, but not unpleasant. She reached down and lifted the hem of her blouse up and over her head before pulling my hands up to cup her tits. “Touch me.”

I would’ve been lying if I said that Betsy wasn’t the sexiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on. There was a softness about her that the club whores were missing. I let her guide my hands over her flesh before coming to my senses and bringing them back down to rest on my lap. “Get out,” I growled.

“But,” she protested.

I laid back on the comforter and folded my arms under my head. “You heard me. Get the fuck out. You could’ve taken care of this and you didn’t. Way I see it, this is your problem now. I don’t give a fuck if your man wants you or not, but don’t fuckin’ come around here, expecting me to fill in.”

“Grey,” she cried out, but I cut her off.

“I ain’t tearing apart a club or losing a good man because some broad got herself in trouble and didn’t think to take care of it sooner. Close the fuckin’ door behind you.”

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