Page 86 of Deserter

When I finished, I ran the back of my hand across my mouth, wondering how I was supposed to go back out there and pretend like nothing was wrong. I couldn’t even begin to fathom how anyone had kept this a secret.

The door opened and I sighed. “I just need a minute, Jamie.”

“It’s not Jamie.”

I tore off several pieces of toilet paper and dabbed at the sweat on my forehead before struggling to get back to my feet without touching the floor or walls. I flushed the toilet with my foot and met Betsy by the sinks.

“I see you’ve met Mikey.” She met my reflection in the mirror before pushing her lips into a pout. I’m sure she saw herself as Cindy Crawford while I felt like Shamu, waddling up next to her.

“You’re in my way.”

She shifted her hips, allowing me access to the sink to wash my hands. “Isn’t he just the most adorable little boy you’ve ever seen?”

Betsy was out for blood and I wondered how I’d missed the venom in her words before. How could I have ever believed that she wanted to help me?

“He’s a cute kid—looks nothing like his father though,” I responded coldly.

I rejoiced in watching as the pout disappeared into a flat line. She’d come in here to bat me around like a cat would a toy, yet I’d shaken her.

“You must’ve known, Celia. You seem like a smart girl. Did you really think Grey was spending all those late nights with the club?” Her hand trailed down over her breasts before coming to rest against her flat stomach. “You’re obviously in no condition to give him what he needs, and a man like Grey has a lot of needs.”

The blood roared in my ears and there was a brief moment where her words worked their way under my armor and pierced my heart, but it was gone just as quickly. Biker or not, Jamie wouldn’t do that to me.

Betsy was trying to get a rise out of me; to bait me into attacking her. She’d failed at convincing me to have the abortion; maybe she saw this as her second chance to ensure that Mikey was Jamie’s only child. Every muscle in my body went taut with fury as I saw her for what she truly was.

Trash.

My fingernails dug into my palms until I was certain I’d drawn blood. I wanted nothing more than to rake them down her beautiful face until she was as ugly on the outside as she was on the inside.

The only thing keeping me in place was the fact that she’d called Jamie by his road name, not his real name.

“You’re absolutely right.” My voice stayed low and even, despite the storm brewing in my mind. Her mouth fell open in shock and I continued. “My husband has a lot of needs, which are being met by me… daily.”

Her chest went blotchy, the color rising all the way up to her cheeks. With pursed lips, she took another step toward me. “Then why does he keep crawling back to me, night after night. Sweetheart, wake up and smell the coffee—”

I wanted to lay hands on her, and not in a spiritual way. I even envisioned myself admiring the rock on my left ring finger as I throttled the life out of her.

That was what she expected, but I wasn’t doing anything that might jeopardize my daughter.

I put a hand on my hip and smirked. “Don’t sweetheart me, Betsy. If Grey wanted you, then you’d be the one in the wedding gown—not me.”

“You’re nothing more than a spoiled rich bitch who wants to slum it with the bad boy for a while,” she spat. “Grey needs a woman who knows this lifestyle—someone who knows what he needs—”

I laughed. “Is that the best you can do? You’re attacking me because you know he’s not yours. He has never been yours, you told me as much at the gathering. You have a husband. Leave mine alone.”

I turned away to adjust my dress with Betsy continuing her taunts from behind. “Has he told you that he loves you? Trust me, he won’t. Once you’ve had that kid, he’ll be on to the next teenager that gets his dick hard and then where will you be?”

“Your poor husband is completely clueless to your lies. How do you live with yourself?”

“My poor husband?” She blinked rapidly before lowering her voice. “Jesus Christ, you really don’t know shit, do you?”

Maybe she thought I was going to say something to him; I honestly didn’t care. I’d just found a way to shut her down. Comedian was her leash; the one thing preventing her from chasing cars down the street like a rabid dog.

My flower crown had slipped again, and I took my time straightening it before adding, “He seemed to enjoy having his hands on me. Maybe he’s not getting enough attention at home?”

I regretted the words the moment they were out of my mouth. I’d committed to taking the high road only to be derailed when she mentioned love.

Jamie didn’t love her, but that didn’t automatically mean that he loved me and implying that her husband had feelings for me had only made a bad situation worse.

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