Page 70 of Deserter

I nodded and bit down on my lower lip to keep it from trembling. I didn’t want to be left alone again. “I can make some food. If you’ll just give me a minute, please.”

The front door slammed shut in response and John gave me regretful smile. “He’ll come around, Celia. I’ll leave our phone number on the kitchen table. Feel free to call Lou anytime you have questions. Now, just drink the Gatorade and eat the cereal until you’re good as new again, okay?”

“Thanks, John.” He patted the top of my head and a tear slipped free. I’d almost forgotten how good it felt to be cared for by someone.

The mirror vibrated against the wall as their bikes started up and then the house fell silent again. I was failing at being a biker Ol’ Lady, always a few steps behind what was required. For women like Lucy, running a household was second nature. I’d grown up with a housekeeper and had been forced to learn everything after moving in with Jamie.

The next few hours were spent washing the dishes from breakfast and tidying up around the house. Molly didn’t answer when I called, and I wondered if she was out making bad decisions. It was better than being locked up like a prisoner.

The wind picked up, making the old house creak and pop. If I didn’t jump out of my skin every time it happened, I would’ve sworn that maybe I’d become a ghost, haunting the prison I was supposed to call home.

I picked up a book but was too restless to read. I turned on the television, needing something to drown out the groaning from the wind, but I couldn’t focus. As I picked at my fingernails, an idea began to take shape.

What if Lucy was wrong?

What if Jamie didn’t want an Ol’ Lady?

I walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light before stepping back in fright. With my pale skin and dark circles, I was even starting to resemble a ghost.

“You can stay here and continue to live like a mouse, Celia Cross,” I told my reflection as I brushed powder on my nose. “Or, you can be yourself and stand up to him.”

It wasn’t a convincing argument, but I had a hunch that Jamie’s neglect had nothing to do with me and everything to do with his past.

Maybe I’d be able to fix what was broken between us if I only stopped cowering. I’d made myself small and obedient because that was what the other women did, but it never felt right.

I wasn’t like them.

I threw open the closet door and searched through the dresses—I’d outgrown almost every one of Yiayia’s and had been forced to purchase the oversized maternity clothing that the magazines swore was in style.

I finally settled on a non-maternity teal silk wrap dress that fit my body like a glove, pairing it with my moccasin boots and Jamie’s leather jacket. The full-length mirror in the bedroom was unforgiving, but it was going to have to do. With my swollen feet, heels were out of the question and his jacket was the only one that fit around my belly.

I dabbed gloss onto my lips and brushed through my hair before heading out to the red Chevy Cavalier Jamie had bought not long after I moved in. My hands began to tremble against the steering wheel when the city lights faded in the rearview mirror.

It was risky and there was a pretty big chance that it was going to blow up in my face, but I had to know for sure. Either Jamie wanted the old Celia, or he didn’t want me at all. I hoped it was the former, because I didn’t have a plan for the latter.

I winced as the car bounced over rocks down in the canyon and kept one hand tight around my belly. The motorcycles were lined up outside the clubhouse, with several bikers on patrol.

They reached for their guns as I stepped out and I held up a hand in greeting. “Hey, I’m here to see Grey.”

Mama said if you spoke with authority, people were less likely to ask questions.

Unfortunately, Mama had never dealt with bikers.

“He ain’t seeing anyone tonight, sweetheart,” one stated flatly. “You can deal with us though. We’ll treat you real nice.”

Another laughed at the statement and nodded in agreement. I pulled the jacket around my body like armor and stepped out from the shadows, hoping they’d realize who I was.

“Holy shit, this bitch is knocked up!” Biker One exclaimed gleefully.

Another put his hand on my belly, and I stepped back. “Don’t touch me. I’m here for Grey. If you let me pass, I won’t tell him about this.”

Ignoring me, Biker Three chimed in. “Any of you ever banged a pregnant chick? How many of us do you think it would take before she went into labor?”

My pulse picked up and I briefly considered running before standing tall and facing them. “You will take me to Grey right now—”

My words cut off as Biker Two’s hand closed around my throat. “We ain’t taking you anywhere, bitch. Get on your knees.”

“If I were you three, I’d get my goddamned hands off Grey’s Ol’ Lady, but what the fuck do I know?” A voice said cheerfully.

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