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Seeing her slinging drinks in the clubhouse without her cut on sent a big enough message, though. Ratchet told me that she threatened to burn it if he didn’t take it away, so he’d given it back to me with a warning.
“You give this to her again, you better live up to whatever the fuck you’re offering her. It needs to mean something and not just stand for a fucked-up bargain you’re making. Ain’t fair to go about doing whatever the hell you want while keeping that girl from being happy. She might not be my daughter, but when push comes to shove, she’s mine to care for anyway. I won’t let you run fucking games on Jagger’s girl just to make things easier on yourself.”
He wasn’t wrong and that’s why her cut was tucked away in the locked trunk under my bunk. I still lived in the bunkroom because there were other men, senior to me in the club, who needed the single rooms more than I did. Damn if that wasn’t the truth too since I’d fucked myself into being off limits for the foreseeable future.
When Kim passed by me again to put a bottle of whisky on the shelf where she’d grabbed it to pour a shot for Tinker, I managed to snag her hand. “Kim, please, I’m so fucking sorry.”
She snatched her hand away from me and put the bottle up before turning back around and ignoring my ass again. Fuck!
Tinker chuckled into his drink, the prick. When he got up, shook his head, and walked off, I flipped him off.
“Don’t disrespect Tinker like that. He’s a good man,” Kim admonished.
“He’s a good man for laughing at me not being able to deliver an apology?”
She shrugged. “Better than the man who owes the apology in the first place.”
My brothers who were sitting close enough to hear her all started to laugh at my expense. That was just fine. I’d take my fucking lumps if that’s what she needed for me to do. And they were right to laugh at my ass because I’d been the one to fuck up what had started to turn into a promising future with a woman who they all loved.
There was no doubt in my mind that Kim would have one of them take her up on her offer to claim her, if I couldn’t talk her around before the baby was born. Every single mother fucker in the club knew she was a prime example of what an old lady in a club should be. She was fair, loving, caring, and tough when she needed to be. Plus, she loved the life and every one of the sorry bastards in it. Anyone who could enjoy being around Sparkles and bring him out of his self-imposed loner streak to settle down, deserved the title, the patch, and the love to go with the package.
Later that night, I passed Kim as she moved down the hall toward the kitchen. Once she slid by me, I turned to follow her. We ended up in the kitchen alone as she pulled a Ginger Ale out of the fridge.
“You feel sick again?” I thought she was done with the morning sickness shit, but maybe I hadn’t been paying close enough attention to her.
“Nope. Just like the taste now.”
I grinned at her. “I guess you get used to it after a while of needing it to help calm your stomach.”
She shrugged and popped the can open. When she didn’t immediately try to run from me, I pointed to the table beside us. “Will you sit a minute?” Kim didn’t answer, but she did take a seat.
“We were on the road to something solid between us,” I said, and she nodded her head along. “Then I fucked up, but I want to talk to you about what happened because it wasn’t so cut and dry. Also, because when you understand why it happened, you’ll know that it won’t ever be repeated again.”
“You might as well get it all out now because I can already tell you won’t leave me alone until you can rehash the same shit I saw with my own two eyes.”
Well, that sounded ominous, but at least she was willing to listen. So, I set about explaining exactly how everything went down with June, including how we parted ways that day. Kim sat still, other than sipping on her Ginger Ale and listened to the whole thing.
“I already knew most of that. So, that was the first time you’d seen her since…?” She left the question hanging, waiting on me to fill in the blank.
“Since the day I told her you were pregnant, which was the day after you told me.”
She nodded. “I guess I can understand why it would have been emotional seeing her for the first time. But let me ask you a question.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“If the first time you saw her was the day our child was born, would you have disrespected us the same way?” Before I could answer she asked a different question. “What if we decided to get married for real and you saw her that day? Would the taste of her on your lips have been my first kiss with you as your wife? What if you saw her again six months from now and we were out together with the baby? Would you just leave me there, holding your child, to go wrap your arms around another woman?”
“No. Fuck no. No to all that.”
“Then why did it seem like a good idea for you to do it yesterday when you conveniently didn’t think anyone was around to see you?”
I couldn’t answer her because she had just made her point. It should have never happened; the impulse shouldn’t have been there. She had the right to wonder if I would react the same every time I saw June.
“You have no reason to believe me, but I promise you, it will never happen again.”
She thought for a moment, slugged back the rest of her Ginger Ale, and stood. “You’re right,” she said as she tossed her can into the trash. “I don’t believe you.” Then she walked out of the kitchen and went back to work as if she hadn’t just left me there to wallow in the mess I’d made of everything.
It felt like I was on a clock that was counting down to my doom. And in a way, I was. The baby would be here before we knew it, and while my biggest concern was that my child’s mother and I be able to get along and raise him together. Or her. My other problem was the looming question of whether she really would accept any other offer from one of my club brothers.
