I inhaled on a sob, scared as hell. “I’ll just come up and see you and then leave again. I won’t be there long!” I pleaded.
“Not good for you to sit that long in a car, Sugar,” he answered gently. “Round trip, that’s almost twenty hours. You gotta take care of you and the baby.”
“But I miss you,” I whimpered, not willing to give up.
“Fuck, I miss you, too. But I don’t want you driving all the way up here,” he told me firmly. “I gotta go, Sugar. I’m sitting in the fuckin’ parking lot of the jail, but I wanted to give you a call first thing. I’ll call you back as soon as I get home, okay?”
“We’re having a son,” I replied quickly, in an anxious bid to keep him on the phone.
“A son?” he whispered.
“Yeah.” I smiled, tears rolling down my face. “They even took a picture to prove it.”
“They took a picture of our son’s dick?” he asked, his voice rose at the end in disbelief.
“Chill out!” I giggled. “It’s a grainy black and white photo. It’s not porn!”
“A son,” he muttered again quietly. “Thank you.”
“I’m pretty sure you determine that, but you’re welcome.”
“I gotta go, Callie. I’ll call you back,” he muttered abruptly, shattering the moment we’d been having.
“As soon as you get there?”
“Yeah, Calliope, I’ll call you the minute I park,” he assured me. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” I murmured and then listened to the click as he hung up.
Cody found me bawling on the kitchen floor only a few minutes later.
“What the hell, Callie?” he panicked, lifting me to my feet with his hands under my arms.
“Asa called,” I told him dully as I grabbed a glass and filled it with water. “He’s out.”
“Then why the hell were you crying on the floor?”
“He said it’s bad, Cody,” I whispered, looking directly into his eyes. “He said they’re going to arrest him again.”
“What? Why?” he asked, bewildered.
“I don’t know! He said that they’d caught him with something, and then said something about Slider sending his love to Farrah! He wasn’t making sense!” I barked, running a frustrated hand through my hair.
“Wait, what does Farrah have to do with it?” he asked protectively, pushing out his chest and crossing his arms over it.
“I have no idea. I think he was trying to tell me something without really saying it.”
“What exactly did he say?”
“That he came from the clubhouse and my friend’s dad asked him to bring his love to her.”
“Holy fucking shit,” he mumbled, looking at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. “He was carrying something for Slider.”
“What?” I screeched.
“It makes sense. Think about it—they found something on him, right? And he said Slider sent his love to Farrah, but that would be a pretty fucking weird thing for him to do,” he told me intently, his eyes boring into mine. “Slider sent something with him.”
“You think he was making a drop for Slider when he was supposed to be coming down for our doctor’s appointment?” I asked incredulously. “That would be so fucked up!”
“That’s what it sounds like,” he confirmed.
“No way,” I mumbled, pushing past him. “Tell Gram I’ll be over later. I need to take a shower.”
I strode into the bathroom, effectively ending our conversation. I needed to think.
Asa wouldn’t have made a drop when he was coming down for something so important. I knew him. I knew he wouldn’t taint our day with club shit. He knew how I felt about the club even though I’d never voiced it.
My mind ran a thousand miles a minute as I took a shower, and I tried desperately to find something else hidden in his words.
When I climbed out and dried off, I noticed a missed call from Asa, but I didn’t call him back. I needed to get my head together before I talked to him and didn’t want to accuse him of something that wasn’t true. I was afraid that if I called, I’d demand he tell me that Cody was wrong—that he hadn’t made his trip to see me into some sordid club errand.
I was not only afraid it was true, I was also afraid that if I asked him directly and someone was listening in, I’d get him into even more trouble. There were certain things that I knew he kept from me—things about what he did for the Aces. I wasn’t sure if he couldn’t tell me, or just chose to keep them a secret in some misguided attempt to shelter me, and honestly I’d never cared before. I’d deliberately chosen to ignore that part of his life that didn’t pertain to me directly, as I did with most everything else in my life.
Was it self-centered? Probably, but I couldn’t stop it. I’d been protecting myself for so long at that point that it was second nature for me to take things at face value and refuse to question them. I should’ve learned with Farrah that I needed to be more aware of the things happening in my peripheral, but I hadn’t. And now, once again, the fact that I’d turned a blind eye was coming back to haunt me.
I got dressed and headed to Gram’s slowly, loathe to answer the questions I knew she and Farrah would have. They were curious and worried, just like I was, and I knew I’d have to give a full accounting of what Asa’d said. I was still trying to convince myself that Cody had been wrong, and something else was going on, when I walked in Gram’s front door.
“Hey, chickie!” Farrah called from the kitchen as I strolled in. She was helping Gram make dinner, and it gave me a warm feeling when I thought about how close they’d become. Farrah had basically grown up without any parents, taking care of herself from a young age, and it was beautiful to see how she soaked up Gram’s presence.
Gram had stepped in, with little fanfare, and treated Farrah the same way she did Cody and me—loving with a touch of guilt when needed.
“Hey,” I answered back, watching Farrah closely. “I talked to Asa.”
“Yeah, Cody told us,” she answered tentatively, turning from the stove to look at me.
“He said Slider told him to bring you his love.”
“Yeah, right!” she scoffed, turning away again.
For some reason, those words confirmed to me what I had refused to believe, and a small flame of resentment started deep in my chest.
Slider had asked Asa to bring something entirely different to California.
Chapter 63
Grease
I was having a shitty week.
First, I got pulled over and arrested, then the club’s lawyer told me the DA smelled blood in the water and it looked like the judge was going to make an example out of me, and finally, something was up with Callie. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but when she’d called me back Friday night, she’d seemed off.
I wasn’t sure if she’d fully understood what I was telling her when we’d spoken, but she didn’t ask again to visit. I was pissed at myself that I’d told her no, because I missed her like hell, but I knew that the drive would be horrible for her and I wasn’t good company anyway. I was on the fucking chopping block, waiting for the blade. The wait was worse than the punishment because I fucking knew I was going to see the inside of a cell again, and not knowing how long I’d be in was driving me insane.
We had a fucking baby on the way. A son. And I was pretty sure I was going to miss the first part of his life. There was a slim chance that I’d be out in four months, but I wouldn’t even let myself think that it would be a possibility. No, I’d be locked up and probably miss a ton of shit.
It made me sick to think of Callie going through all that alone. I knew that her Gram would be with her every step of the way, but I wouldn’t. I wasn’t going to get to see her waddling around and complaining about how her back hurt.
I was going to miss the excitement of her water breaking, of the contractions that would make her hate me, and the relief on her face when some doctor finally gave her the drugs she needed to ta
ke the edge off. I was going to miss her sweaty hair and tired face, and the way I knew she’d look at me—like I could make everything better.
I was going to miss the look on her face when she saw our son for the first time.
It hurt like hell.
I’d spent the week getting my shit in order. I made sure that someone would deposit money into my account periodically, checked and rechecked with Poet and Slider to make sure they’d keep an eye on Callie, and paid all of Callie’s bills six months in advance so she wouldn’t have to worry. I didn’t want to leave anything to chance; I didn’t want anything to worry her when I couldn’t be there.
I’d also called my girl constantly that week. I had nothing to do while we waited, so I spent the time with her. Well, as much as I could with her being hundreds of miles away. We were spending more time on the phone than we ever had, discussing everything from politics to baby names. We even discussed what would happen while I was inside—how she’d need to deal with the accounts, how to shut off my cell phone once I didn’t need it, the boys in Sacramento she could call if she was having car trouble. We talked about everything except whatever was bothering her and had her going silent for full minutes at a time while I wondered what the fuck was wrong. It went past the ache we were both feeling at the thought of being separated. Something was happening with her and I had no clue what it was or how to fucking fix it.
I was stuck in Eugene, waiting for the inevitable, while something ate at her in Sacramento—and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Over a week after I’d been released, it was time for my court date. I rode with the lawyer to the courthouse, but I didn’t have anyone else with me. The lawyer had told Slider that his and Poet’s notorious faces might hurt my chances and I didn’t even mention anything to Dragon or Tommy. I didn’t want them to see me looking like a chump, being cuffed by some fat fuck cop, so I was on my own. As soon as we arrived, the lawyer stepped out of the car so I could make one last phone call.
“Hey!” she answered calmly, a smile in her voice.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I hated the fact that I was going to be wiping that smile away. “It’s time.”
“What? I thought you had a few more hours! I thought—”
“Sugar, we went over this. We knew it was coming,” I corrected her gently as I slid my sleeves down my arms and buttoned them around my wrists. I couldn’t hide the tattoos on my neck or the ones on my hands, but I didn’t think my full sleeves of ink needed to be on display.
“I know,” she whimpered dully, sniffing into the phone.
“Now, we went over everything so you shouldn’t have any problems, okay?” I told her urgently as I heard car doors shutting and the lawyer tapped on the driver’s side window. “I’ll have one of the boys call you once we know what’s going on.”
“Okay.” I heard her sniff again before her voice grew stronger. “I’m fine—we’ll be fine. You just do what you need to do, and I’ll wait.”
A lump formed in my throat as I opened the door and climbed out of the car. Fuck, but she’d grown up since I’d met her as a scared sixteen-year-old girl.
“I love you,” I told her fervently as the lawyer started ushering me toward the front doors.
“I love you, too—so much.”
“Be strong, okay? This’ll be over soon, I promise, and then we can finally move you up here and be a family,” I promised frantically as we joined the line in front of the metal detectors and I patted down my pockets, making sure I hadn’t accidentally dropped my pocket knife in there like I usually did.
“Don’t hang up!” she sobbed hysterically, making my chest feel like it was imploding. “I’m not ready! Don’t hang up!”
“I love you, Sugar. Stay strong,” I answered calmly as I heard a rustling on the other end of the phone.
“Hey, Asa,” Cody greeted while I heard Callie sniffling in the background. “I got her, you just worry about your shit. Take care.”
The click of the phone call ending made me flinch.
I was standing with my hand over my face and my phone dangling from my fingertips when the security guard called for me.
Once the lawyer found the right courtroom, we walked in silently to find some seats, and my heart raced as I saw the back of a familiar gray head sitting two rows from the front.
“Rose?”
“Asa,” she called back with a nod as she stood from her seat.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, confused. I thought she’d be in California taking care of Callie.
“I’d never let one of mine face something like this alone,” she told me firmly, motioning with her hands so I’d lean toward her.
The minute my head was lowered, she pulled a blue checkered tie out of her purse and wrapped it around my neck.
“Get that top button,” she ordered as the courtroom started filling up. After I’d followed her direction, her fingers started flying as she knotted the tie.
“There, now you don’t look like a hooligan.”
“I don’t think a tie is gonna make a difference,” I told her sincerely, afraid that she was envisioning a far different outcome than I was expecting.
“Doesn’t matter. You know you did your best to put the right foot forward, that’s what’s important,” she stated seriously, smoothing down the tie with her gnarled fingers.
“We need to take our seats,” the lawyer interrupted behind me.
“My lawyer,” I informed Rose with a motion of my hand.
“Yeah, the suit tipped me off,” she replied wryly, scooting down the aisle so there was room for the three of us to sit.
When we got situated in our seats, I felt the walls start to close in around me. Fuck. Jail time wasn’t shit; I’d done it before, no problem. But the thought of leaving Callie was like a lead weight in my gut. I was pulling at the collar of my shirt when I felt a small dry hand settle onto mine.
“Nothing wrong with your shirt. Stop fidgeting,” Rose ordered quietly, facing straight ahead.
Her hand in mine and the no-nonsense tone of her voice had me instantly pausing, and I took a deep breath as I squeezed her hand.
“Thanks for coming,” I whispered back.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” she assured fiercely.
We had to sit through two other cases before it was time for mine, and she held my sweaty palm the entire time. When they called my name, she gave me a squeeze and let go as the lawyer and I stood.
“It’s time, son,” she murmured, looking intently into my eyes. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” I looked down at her as my heart beat frantically and my head began to throb. “I’m ready.”
Chapter 64
Callie
When we prepared for Asa to go away—that’s how I liked to think of it—we hadn’t envisioned the length of time that would entail.
They gave him twenty-five months. Twenty-five months because he’d broken his probation and it had nullified his suspended sentence for an assault charge from three years before.
Twenty-five months because Slider had asked him to carry a gun to Sacramento.
The first week he was gone, I barely got out of bed.
The second week, I raged.
The third week, I played the what-if game.
The fourth week, I realized that I had a baby growing inside me that didn’t deserve a basket case for a mother.
The entire time I raged, wept, and pleaded, my resentment for the club he’d called home his entire life grew. It grew to such massive proportions that I couldn’t bear to see the members of the Sacramento Chapter when they came to check on me. Even Michael was turned away at my front door, his confusion apparent when I shut it in his face.
Asa called as often as he could, but the calls were often stilted and awkward. He refused to talk about anything to do with his incarceration, and answered any questions I asked with yes or no replies that made me want to pull my hair out. Most of our conversations were carr
ied by me as I spoke on and on about the baby.
As those first months passed by, I grew.
My belly became more and more prominent, becoming so large that even maternity shirts left a little sliver of belly showing whenever I moved. As it swelled, I gained line after line of angry red stretch marks, beginning at my hips and wrapping around the lower half of my belly, making me look like I’d gone head to head with Freddy Kruger and his knife fingers.
My bump wasn’t the only thing that grew in those months. My boobs became massive, so massive that Farrah would run around the house with my bra on her head like a yarmulke, spouting off random Hebrew words. My feet were so swollen that Gram made me spend hours each night with them elevated, though it never seemed to help. My cheeks, thighs, and ass grew rounder until I looked like a snowman with all my lumps.
And as my body changed and I recorded everything for Asa, my resentment grew.
One morning, almost five months after Asa went to prison, I woke up having contractions. It scared the hell out of me and filled me with so much adrenaline I was shaking. I climbed out of bed slowly, taking the time to shower and blow dry my hair before I woke Farrah up. When I was finally ready, I strode into her room, only to find her up and putting her shoes on.
“I heard you in the shower and you never get up this early. Baby time?” she asked me briskly as she pulled her hair into a high ponytail. She’d slowly but surely come back to the girl she was before, and I wondered how much of it was because of her need to take care of me. It seemed that both of us had broken at different times and the only thing that put us back together was the other’s need. It was a hell of a cycle.
“Yep. Let’s go over and wake Gram up,” I told her as she passed me. “Wait for me!”
The bubble I was floating on at the thought of racing to the hospital and popping out my son was burst when we got to Gram’s apartment.
“You don’t need to go to the hospital yet,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I’m gonna go get dressed. I’ll be out in a minute.”