Page 12 of Biker's Baby

FIVE

Abe

I sat backon my couch, leaning my head on the cushion and looking up at the ceiling.

There was a second cup of coffee in my hand, but I couldn’t focus on just having the cup of coffee that morning. I kept thinking back to the evening before and making that phone call to one of my dad’s old friends.

Garth was a good man, but he wasn’t part of The Black Cats, nor did he have any connections to Tad. In fact, I was pretty sure Garth was on the list of people whom Tad would happily never see again if he had the choice, not that I would bring up to my president that I had been speaking to the man anyway.

Still, I was hoping for some insight. I wanted to know what he thought about the situation I’d currently found myself in, and what he thought I should do about it.

After all, even though he was currently out of an MC himself, he had spent many years working for and with clubs. He knew what he was doing. He would be a good man to ask for advice when it came to the reformation of this club, as well as how I was supposed to make steps toward that happening.

I sighed, turning my attention to the cup of coffee in my hand.

I’d brewed a whole pot that morning without even realizing it. I normally drank two, maybe three cups before heading over to the clubhouse, but today I hadn’t been paying any attention as I filled the machine, and now there was still half a pot staring back at me from the counter in the kitchen.

It had been a long few days, and I knew I had to get my head on straight if I was going to keep going with my plan. I wanted that inheritance from my father. More than that, I wanted the solidarity with my brothers. They might be spread across the country right now, but that didn’t mean it would always be that way.

And I wanted to hold my head high when the day came that we were together again.

But for now, I had to focus. And that meant I had to focus better when it came to the little things, like making coffee for the day.

A knock at the door startled me, and I set my cup of coffee on the small table next to the couch as I walked over to look through the peephole.

A woman stood on my steps, and there was a toddler in her arms.

It wasn’t the fact that this had never happened before that took my breath away, but the fact that the woman on my steps was none other than Iris Holyoak. She was a blast from the past – minus the fact she had a kid in her arms.

I hadn’t thought about her in well over a year, but as soon as I saw her face, everything that had happened three years ago came rushing back to me. If I hadn’t been standing there myself, I would have thought it was a dream.

I opened the door.

“Hello, Abe,” she said.

Her face clearly showed she had been crying, but her smile was just the same, the same beautiful smile I’d remembered. She had matured some, but she was still the gorgeous young woman I had almost fallen for years ago.

“Iris?” I found my voice. “I never thought in a million years I’d ever see you back in Holbrook.”

“I never thought I’d be back,” she said with a small smile. “Do you mind if we come in?”

“Sure, of course.” I moved out of the way. “I’m sorry. I don’t get much company, so you have to excuse my manners.”

“Quite alright,” she said.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” I asked.

“That would be lovely.”

“Does the kid need anything?” I continued. Not that I had anything for a toddler in the house, but it still seemed strange that I wouldn’t offer. Or was it? Who was this kid anyway?

“No, he’s got a bottle here,” she said. “How are you? How have things been?”

“Same old, same old,” I told her with a shrug. “I guess you could say that I’ve been doing the same thing just with different faces these days. What about you? Why are you back in town when you said you’d never even look in this direction again?”

“Same old, same old,” she said with a small laugh. “I’m trying to get away from someone who doesn’t seem to be getting the hint that I don’t want them in my life anymore.”

I looked at her as she spoke, surprising myself that I was able to make her coffee the way she liked it from memory. I had a clear view of the couch from the kitchen, and though she turned her attention to the little boy in her arms as she spoke, I couldn’t help but wonder if that person she was now trying to run away from was this kid’s father. I knew better than to ask, however. It seemed she was under enough stress. I didn’t want to add to it with pointless questions.

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