Page 12 of Facing the Pain

“What’s the end game here? Why are we fucking with this woman’s life?” I ask.

“If Tracker puts out feelers for his daughter, then we’ll make a call to him and let him know where she is. If he doesn’t, we just sit on the situation and let it play out. My guess is if this woman is on the run, it’s from Duke and your dad. We have no reason to help either one of them. The way I see it is we are helping Kitty’s grandchild stay safe. We may not want anything to do with Duke because he is Jules made over, but that child is innocent, and has our blood in it. We are protecting ours and if this kid isn’t Duke’s, then this is our power play over a blood debt that has been a long time in getting paid back. No harm will come to Charlie or Eve or whatever you want to call the woman. We will protect her. We’re just not giving her the entire story. This is on a need-to-know basis, as we do with all our family, if they don’t need to know, then we don’t tell them.” I hadn’t thought of it that way. That child is my niece or nephew, but it is hard to grasp. I mean, if the woman is on the run anyway, what can it hurt? We will just help her hide—better here than on the road by herself. It still seems wrong on some level. “If she had come to us, we would have helped her. Eve Copeland is now family and Deacon, you oversee her care and keeping tabs on Eve.” What the fuck?

“Why me?” I ask. I’m not sure I can even look at this woman the same way after finding out she was once my brother’s woman.

“Think of it as payback for what your brother and Dad took from you. You know where Duke’s child is, and he may never lay eyes on it,” Garner says with a smirk on his face. I feel a warmth in my chest. Yep, I like that idea.

Chapter Nineteen

EVE

How Do I Like My Eggs?

TWO WEEKS LATER…

Iknow the cops told me my name is Eve, but I don’t feel like an Eve. Do I look like an Eve? Nope, maybe a Nicole or perhaps a Britany. I look at myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth. My face is still swollen from the wreck and my body is sore, but it gets better every day. The first day I was released from the hospital Deacon was there to pick me up. It seems he belongs to some kind of a club and they have decided to take me under their care. They helped me get a quiet house right outside of town. It seems their club owns a few rental houses and this one just happened to be open. I am close to the place they call their clubhouse. It all seems unfamiliar but yet I’m not uneasy about it or them and there are a bunch of men that wear these leather vests they call cuts and they ride motorcycles. They only come in sizes big and huge. I could see how someone might find them intimidating but they have been nothing but kind to me. I spit the last of my toothpaste in the sink and wash it clean. I rinse my mouth and dry it. I try not to keep dwelling on my situation and the men that have taken my problems on themselves. I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Isn’t that the saying? I should just count myself lucky. The question is still why are they helping me? It seems out of character. Oh well.

When I got out of the hospital, Deacon offered the clubs help and I was a bit reluctant to take it, but then Deacon reminded me it wasn’t just me. It’s mind-blowing to me that I am carrying a child and I don’t know who it belongs to. My OB/GYN is still monitoring me weekly and says every day I don’t miscarry is a blessing. I know she is right. Did I want this child before my accident? Yes, I had to of. I didn’t have an abortion. Was I happy and planning for when the baby arrived? I guess until my memory comes back, I will never know. Heck, I don’t even know what kind of eggs I like. So like every morning since I have been home or my new home, I have tried a different kind of eggs. Who knew I could come up with so many different variations of eggs thanks to the cooking network? I am walking from the bathroom to the kitchen, riddling my head on what kind of eggs to try today when I hear a knock on my kitchen door. It must be Deacon’s morning visit. I hurry to the door and smile at the man I have come to like.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Deacon smiles at me. I break out in a big smile myself.

“Good morning, handsome. How are you today? Don’t you have anything better to do than hang out with me?” I have been wondering what he does about work since he spends a lot of his time with me.

“Is that your way of telling me that you’re tired of seeing this ugly mug every morning?” He grabs where his heart is. “You wound me, darlin’.” I playfully slap his arms and back away from the door so he can enter the house.

“As if you don’t have a mirror in your house and see how handsome you are every morning. I may not have my memory but I still know a hot ass man when I see one and I know when he knows it.” That makes Deacon laugh as he walks in the door. He and I have had this banter since the first day he came and saw me in the hospital.

“So you’re getting tired of seeing me every morning and you think I am a jerk. Darlin’, you say the nicest things in the morning.” I walk over to my coffeemaker and make Deacon his normal pot of coffee. “What kind of eggs are you making this morning?” Deacon has been kidding me about changing my eggs every day instead of sticking to the kinds I find I like.

“I thought I would live on the wild side and try some of the waffles I have in the freezer instead of eggs today.” I give back to the man who is getting under my skin. The one thing I know is Deacon is one sexy man and I may have a lot on my plate right now, but there is definitely a sexual attraction between the two of us. It’s the one thing that Deacon and I try to ignore but it’s getting hard.

“Now, woman, don’t go and get wild on me. I don’t know if my heart could take the thought of you getting outside that pretty head of yours and taking a walk on the wild side. I might be tempted to ask you to dinner one night.” Deacon winks at me.

“Deacon, we have dinner every night just like we have breakfast every morning. I’ll rephrase that—I eat, and you watch me and either drink a cup of coffee or a beer. I’m beginning to think that you think I need someone watching me so I will eat. I know I need to eat for the baby, so I do. I don’t need a babysitter.” We have gone from flirty to serious in a second.

“Babe, I know you know to eat, not just for the baby but for you too. I just thought that we could go out to eat and eat together.” I smile at Deacon. I smell the coffee is done. It smells great but I hate the stuff. I reach in the cabinet and get a coffee cup out and then fill it with the steaming black liquid.

“Is this your way of asking me out?” I look at Deacon through my lashes. I’m being shy and feel my cheeks heating. What if I read the situation wrong? Deacon steps closer and takes the cup of coffee out of my hand and sets it on the cabinet. He turns back to me and sweeps my hair out of my face and gently turns my head toward him.

“This is me asking you to share a dinner with me that you don’t need to prepare. This is me telling you that I want to spend a lot more time with you because you are someone I enjoy spending time with. This is me telling you that I don’t care if you don’t remember where you come from, I just want to be the person that you want to stay with. This is me telling you that I don’t care you are pregnant by a man you don’t remember but I want to give you memories that I won’t let you forget. Yes, this is me saying I want to take you out and let you spend time with me and my friends when the time is right but just me for now.” Deacon bends down and softly puts his lips to mine. The kiss is soft and sweet and makes me feel like I have a connection with someone else on this earth. A connection I don’t want to let go of. I don’t know Deacon very well but right now this feels right. The kiss is over way too soon. I look into Deacon’s deep brown eyes and I feel like I am home.

“Wow, Deacon, you know how to make a girl feel like the most cherished woman in the world,” I tell him honestly.

“This is just the beginning. I am giving you the time you need to heal and get accustomed to the idea of their being an us. I am going to give you the world because you are going to be my world. You and this child.” Deacon’s hand goes to my stomach and unborn child.

“This is crazy. We barely know each other. I have no idea who I am except for a name,” I whisper. I’m afraid if I speak too loudly, I will wake up from this dream. I don’t want to wake up.

“That’s where the time comes in. We will learn all about Eve Copeland together, one day at a time. No rush. I just want to be the one that’s here for you,” Deacon tells me while looking into my eyes. “Just give me the time to show you that.”

“Why now? Why me—a woman that doesn’t know who she is? Why today?” Deacon smiles at me and winks.

“I wanted to take advantage of you while you were taking a walk on the wild side today. Who knows when I would get the chance again?” That has us both laughing. I look in Deacon’s eyes to try and find any sign that he is deceiving me or kidding me. There’s none.

“Well, since I decided to live dangerously today then I might as well go all the way. I would love to go to dinner with you and I would also like to see where this journey will take us with the understanding that I never want to be a burden to you, Deacon. If I find out about my past and it’s bad, then I will walk away. I never want to hurt you or any of your brothers at the clubhouse because you have all been so good to me. I don’t know what I would have done without everyone’s help. I will never be anything but loyal to all of you.” I mean every word. Deacon pulls me closer and hugs me to him.

“Nothing in your past will ever make you walk away. I won’t accept that. Once you accept me as your man then there will be no leaving. You will be mine forever, and it may take a while, but it is going to happen. You and this child. I am just letting you know my intentions but there is no pressure. Never any pressure. It will happen as it happens and only what you are comfortable with.” I pull away and look at Deacon again to make sure this is really happening.

“I understand,” I tell him.

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