Page 16 of Hawk's Cry

Instead, I’m a wife, my injured husband my responsibility. I stand, tapping my phone against my mouth. “I was going to order pizza. Pepperoni?”

“Yeah.” I see him try to move his mouth side to side as if experimenting whether he’s going to be able to eat.

“Or do you want something different?”

“Baby food might be good.”

I huff a laugh, then wonder whether he’s being serious. “Amy gave me some painkillers for you. Do you want to take some?”

Eli’s never been one for taking anything before, that he nods and says yes he does, which shows me how much pain he’s in. I get some for him, bringing a glass of water for him to wash them down. Then I use the phone and call for pizza.

As the first night of the rest of our lives, it sucks.

We eat. Eli stays sprawled on the couch. Then we watch something neither of us are interested in on television. Sure, we spent time with just each other in our house back on the compound, but I was never bored. Mom was close by, and if I wanted to talk to a girlfriend, there were my sisters, Eliza, Hilda and Zoey, or my pseudo cousins, like Isabel, Amy or Maya to name but a few. Amy was good for baby talk too, her being a nurse and pregnant herself.

I miss the brothers too. The F.O.Gs, as Wizard had named them. Men who’d been in the club for years along with my dad treated me as if I was a favourite niece. The younger ones, they were a laugh, they’d flirt with me to get a rise out of Eli.

My brother-in-law Zane seemed to be in our house as much as his own, the two brothers catching up with each other.

Now it seems quiet. Too quiet. An evening with nothing to do, punctuated with moans from my husband who’s hurting through every fault of his own.

We go to bed early. I toss and turn half the night. In the end, I drag out a couple of clean sheets and use one of the old beds in a spare room as my constant movement is keeping Eli awake too.

The next day is not much of an improvement on the one before. I try to get more stuff put away and organised, while Eli has stiffened up and is incapable of doing much more than moving from the bed to the couch.

Halfway through the morning, Eli’s phone rings. The house is small, I can’t help but eavesdrop.

“Mom.”

I take it that it’s Sam on the phone.

“Yeah. I understand… Yeah, I’ll be okay… Fuck, Mom. We’re good. We’ll be fine… No, don’t do that. Yeah.”

I don’t try to pretend I wasn’t listening. “Your mom?” I prompt.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back. “She just wanted to make sure we’re alright.” He lifts his one working eyelid and looks at me. “It’s raw, for us and for them. Lots of changes.”

“Is she coming to visit?”

“No. I told her not to. She’s torn, Liv, between us and the club. We all need time to make the adjustments.”

Adjustments? Who’s he kidding? My world has been turned upside down.

If my life were a novel or a film, Eli would have bounced back to his normal fit and healthy self in a day or two and become the strong supportive husband I need. In a book, I’d have met the neighbours and made new friends, and would have been happy settling into city life. Eli, having got what he wanted would be happy, and his cheerfulness would have rubbed off on me.

But this is reality, not a dream and instead of being contented with my new lot, I find living is hard to do.

I miss everyone I’d left behind as much, if not more, than I’d done that first night. My loneliness and longing for home gets worse as the days pass. Eli doesn’t bounce back fast. We come to accept broken bones take weeks to heal. It doesn’t help lift me up when he, too, is as miserable as fuck, frustrated when his broken ribs and fingers prevent him from doing stuff.

I’m scared to return to the compound by myself. Not because I’m worried about the kind of reception I’d get, my phone calls with mom tell me I’d be welcomed with open arms. But I know returning to the place I’ll always think of as home will upset me too much, and I might be tempted not to return. From time to time I hear a motorcycle coming up the road outside the house, causing a pang of nostalgia. I hold my breath, but the bike never stops or even slows down. Nothing to do with us.

Mom and Sam want to see me, maybe not so much Eli as they’ve not forgiven him yet. They’re old ladies, loyal to their men and their club. For the present, the awkwardness that will be there prevents them visiting, so it’s only by phone that we stay in touch.

One evening a knock comes at the door.

“Careful.” Eli drags himself to his feet and is by my side when I go to open it. A gun has appeared in his hand and I’m not sure from where—another sign of how my life’s changed. On the compound, closed doors never had danger hiding behind them. Before anyone could approach the houses, they had to first come in a gate, and only then if they got past the prospect guarding it. Then they had to walk past the clubhouse, where no stranger would be tolerated lurking about unescorted. They’d be confronted fast and stopped before they ever got close.

If Eli hadn’t have warned me, I’d probably have opened the door without a second thought. Instead, I glance toward the monitor by the side of the door and see who it is standing outside. When I recognise him, I don’t keep him waiting.

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