Page 1 of Blackout: Book Two

Chapter One

Lacey

Being the daughter of the notorious Jack Parrish, and the wife of the equally infamous, Dominic “Blackie” Petra, one would think I’ve spent a great deal of time as a bystander in a criminal courtroom. That I’ve got the whole arraignment process down to a science, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Before today, I never stepped foot inside this place, and I hope to never again.

It’s like a revolving door of fuck ups. In the three hours I’ve been here, I’ve seen two drug dealers, a porch picker—yes, I actually witnessed a man plead guilty to robbing Amazon packages off people’s stoops—two burglars, and, let me not forget the thug charged with the battery of an elderly woman.

All winners. Not.

Yet, none of them were being charged with a laundry list of crimes like my husband. One count of murder somehow became two and on top of the possession of an illegal firearm and the intent to sell, he was also being charged with the disappearance of a paramedic. I guess I should have had a reaction to the added charges, but I’m all out of tears and I’m sure my bitter heart doesn’t give a damn anymore.

After Blackie was arrested, I tried to make sense of everything. How he was there one minute and in cuffs the next. I begged my father to clue me in on the master plan I was sure he and my husband had concocted, but he didn’t budge. In fact, I’m starting to believe he really doesn’t have any idea what Blackie was thinking when he retained David Schwartz as his attorney and dropped that pink teddy bear in my lap. If that’s not a slap in the face, I don’t know what is. It’s like the plush toy is some sort of consolation prize for leaving me pregnant and alone in the dark. For choosing his loyalty to his club over his promises to me.

For feeding me lies and selling me a dream.

“How you holding up, sweetheart?” Wolf questions from beside me as he cups my shoulder affectionately. The sound of his voice drags me away from my thoughts, but I don’t look at him. There’s no point. When you see one brother look at you with pity, you’ve seen them all.

“How do you think she’s holding up?” Riggs whisper yells over my head. “Her baby daddy is in the slammer and let’s call a spade a spade, they’re probably going to throw the book at him. So, instead of asking her how she’s doing, go on Teespring and buy one of the Free Blackie t-shirts. Diapers aren’t cheap, man. If you’re feeling generous, buy a sweatshirt too.”

“Ignore him, hon, he knows not what he says,” Wolf hisses.

“I know kids are fucking expensive, man. I also know Schwartz isn’t cheap and probably depleted Blackie’s bank account…”

That grabs my attention and my gaze snaps to Riggs. While all his concerns are surely valid, I haven’t allowed myself to think about any of them. I don’t want to hear about the cost of diapers or that children come with unexpected expenses and I sure as hell don’t want to hear my husband dropped every cent we have on a fucking attorney. Even if he’s worth every red cent.

I want to hang onto hope.

It might make me the fool in this story, but I want to believe my husband has a trick up his sleeve. Some grand gesture that makes him the hero and not the villain who breaks my heart. That he’s invested all our money into a defense that’s sure to get him off and give us a future together. I want to believe he’s not a selfish prick, that he didn’t choose his love for the patch over his love for his child. That he didn’t shove me into the role of a struggling single mother.

The voice of my maker sounds inside my head, taking advantage of my emotional state and wreaks havoc on my fragile heart.

You always want too much.

You’ve set the bar too high for a man who will never climb it.

He made his choice.

It wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

“Lacey?” Riggs calls softly. I know he’s right next to me, but his voice seems so far away. So out of reach. Closing my eyes, I drop my head into my hands and rub my temples.

“See, what you’ve done,” Wolf growls.

Another muffled voice.

“I’m fine,” I whisper, more to myself than them. Being off my meds hasn’t been easy with everything that’s going on. Another factor my husband didn’t bother to consider when he broke my heart.

The thing is, until now, I’ve been too preoccupied taking care of my little brother to entertain the crazy living inside of me. With Reina still in a coma and my father sitting vigil at her side, I need to keep my head straight for Danny. My husband isn’t here to stop me from unraveling and my maker is a persistent bitch. She won’t quit until she’s sucked every drop of sanity from me.

I peel my hands away from my face and force my eyes open as I draw in a deep breath. I count to ten and will my head to find peace when I hear the judge call the next case. My eyes follow the court officer as he walks towards the door and when it opens my breath catches. My heart hammers against my chest and my palms grow sleek with sweat. First to enter the room is Schwartz, sharply dressed, with a smug smile on his face. He tips his chin to the judge before making his way to the defense table.

Then I see him.

My Leather.

Dressed in the same clothes he wore when he placed his hand on my stomach and promised everything would be okay, he walks with his head down and his wrists cuffed. There are two guards on either side of him and they lead him to where Schwartz stands, unpacking his briefcase.

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