Hardy Page 3

  “I heard about Rose. Congratulations.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m shitting my fucking pants right now.”

  Lash burst out laughing. “Why?”

  “I’ve got a kid on the way. Do I need any other reason?” Hardy rested against the side of the clubhouse. “I don’t know. Everything right now is so totally fucked between Rose and me. I mean, how the fuck are we supposed to raise a kid? I signed the bastard divorce papers, and for all I know they’ve gone through. We’re expecting a kid, and I don’t have a clue how to win her back.” Running fingers through his hair, Hardy had never felt so fucking hopeless in all of his life. “This has to be the most fucked up moment of my life.”

  “Having a kid will help, Hardy.”

  “How? How will a kid help? Rose has always wanted a child, and she’s going to have what she wants, and I’m not going to be needed.”

  “Then be there for her, Hardy. You love Rose, and you’re never going to fuck another woman again, so be the man she always wanted. Don’t give her the chance to think about what else she wanted. She married you. It’s your baby in her stomach, no one else’s, and no one can take that away. Not even you.”

  “Is that what you do with Angel? Show her that you’re the best thing that happened to her?”

  “Angel knows exactly what I feel for her. She knows there’s no other man out there for her, who’d love her like I do. Not one other man would die for her, but I would. The other thing, I won’t let any man get close enough to her. She’s mine, and that’s exactly how it’s going to stay.”

  Be the better man.

  Chapter Two

  Gash stared over at the happy couple. Tate looked exhausted, and Murphy looked so damn happy to have another baby. Together, however, they looked content. They made for a lovely couple.

  “Do you think he’ll ever get her to settle down?” Whizz asked, taking a seat beside him at the bar. Lacey was in the kitchen, and Gash turned his attention to the person he needed to get his revenge.

  “How’s the fostering going?” Gash asked.

  Lacey was unable to have children, and with her past of attempted suicide, along with a whole slew of other problems, Whizz had to call in a few favors from friends to get them on the list.

  “We’ve not had any calls yet. Lacey doesn’t care what age she or he will be, only that she can have the chance to be a mother.” Whizz shrugged. “I’m not taking on a teenager. I don’t give a fuck what Lacey wants.”

  “How does that work then?” Gash took a sip of his beer. He was interested in Whizz. They’d both suffered through a lot of shit in their time. Gash was wrongly accused of raping a woman and murdering her boyfriend. The only thing Gash had done wrong was put his dick in a hole that was more than willing to take it. He should have known the bitch was setting him up.

  “The woman I’m helping out gives us files on the kids that are in desperate need of being re-homed. Lacey wants to home them all, but I don’t.”

  “He’s being an ass,” Lacey said. “There’s this one kid. She’s fifteen and been in and out of foster care. He won’t budge.” Lacey placed a tray of beef nachos in front of them, kissing Whizz’s cheek.

  “I’ve said we’ll go and see her. I’m not taking on some brat, Lacey.”

  “We’ll see.” She kissed his cheek again and disappeared.

  “I don’t know what your problem is. You can do some good in a kid’s life.”

  “I know, but I want Lacey all to myself.” Whizz shrugged. “I’ve got no doubt we’ll be fostering the girl.”

  “What’s her name?” Gash asked.

  “Sally Taylor.” Whizz rubbed at his temples. “I know you’re only making small talk for what you really want.”

  “What I want is an address, her name, whatever you can get me.”

  “I’ve told you, I can’t find her.”

  “I gave you all the information you need, so get it to me. You’re not called Whizz for nothing.”

  “Do you really think this is going to help you find some closure?” Whizz asked.

  Gash looked around the clubroom. No, he didn’t think it was going to help him find closure. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted from it. All he knew without a shadow of a doubt was that he wanted to kill the bitch and the bastard who set him up.

  “What I want is to be able to end the people who put me in jail.”

  Whizz looked behind him.

  “You’ve already talked to Tiny. He’s given you the all clear to find them for me. Don’t make me an enemy, Whizz.”

  “I’m not your enemy, brother. I know what it’s like to be hurting and to wish to harm those who have caused the pain. This is not the way.”

  Gash stared into Whizz’s scarred face. “I know you went through shit, and the man responsible is dead, killed by Prue. I know what went on with the club, but you never knew me before I went inside. You joined The Skulls after that. If you knew me before now, you’d understand what I need.”

  “Give him the information he needs, Whizz. It won’t go away until you do,” Nash said, coming to stand behind him.

  “He’ll go down again,” Whizz said. The whole club was concerned that once Gash knew where the people were, he’d go on a killing rampage, and end back in prison. None of them wanted that to happen.

  The whole club knew what he wanted to do.

  Whizz nodded, letting out a breath. “I’ve not found anything. I’ll dig deeper until I have what you’re looking for.”

  The woman Gash had been looking for, along with the man, had entered into witness protection where he couldn’t touch them. Gash didn’t know all the details, but he soon would.

  He watched as Whizz got out of his seat and left.

  “Thanks,” he said, turning to Nash.

  “No problem. Whizz is just looking out for you. We all are, but you’re right, he doesn’t know what you were like. It’s not his fault.”

  Taking a long swig of beer, Gash looked around the room at the club. There were so many couples now, so much life, and so much family. Gash wanted to be part of it more than anything, but he held himself back. He had to do something he’d always promised himself he wouldn’t do. He was going to kill a woman, and make sure the man who’d put him away died along with her.

  There was going to be so much bloodshed by the time he was finished that he didn’t think he’d be good enough to join back with The Skulls. Killing like that took a lot out of a man. He’d killed before in the past but never like this.

  There may not be any coming back from this.

  Gash was prepared for that. Besides the club, he didn’t have anything else to live for.

  ****

  Rose rushed to the toilet, spewing up everything she’d eaten last night. Fighter rushed into the bathroom, holding her hair back. He was staying in the spare bedroom to keep her safe. She didn’t know if it was down to Hardy, Tiny, or Lash as to why someone was with her all the time. Once she’d finished dealing with her sickness she was going to ask him.

  “That’s it, you’re okay.”

  She heaved a final time, before collapsing back.

  Fighter handed her a paper towel, and she took it from him grateful for his help. She wiped her mouth, climbing up to look at herself in the mirror above the sink.

  “Are you done?” Fighter asked.

  “Yeah, thank you.”

  “Think nothing of it.” He left her alone.

  He’d rushed into the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. She was older than Fighter, but even still, she wasn’t attracted to him. He was the latest prospect for The Skulls. Baker, another prospect, had already been patched in while Fighter was still earning his place. She didn’t doubt he’d soon be a patched in member of The Skulls. He deserved it.

  After she brushed her teeth and washed her face, she made her way back to her room. She dressed in loose sweats and a large baggy shirt. Rose didn’t feel in the mood to be sexy, not one bit.

  Once she was downs
tairs, she found Fighter was already reading the paper.

  “Who sent you over here?” she asked.

  “Well, it started out with Tiny sending us over here. Now, Hardy has asked us to keep an eye on you. We’re taking it in turns to make sure you’re okay,” he said.

  She was oddly touched by Hardy’s concern for her. In the past he was rarely concerned about her, or about what would happen to her. She’d spend days alone waiting for him to come home even before he cheated. Then he’d cheated, and she’d started spending more and more time at the club, losing herself to her unending fear of losing him.

  “He does love you, you know?” Fighter asked.

  “I know he loves me.”

  “Have you thought about what I said, about making a decision?”

  Rose leaned against the counter and stared at him. A couple of months ago Fighter had been the one who told her she was being cruel in using Hardy. He’d opened her eyes to her own selfish belief that she was getting payback for Hardy cheating. Her mind was so screwed up that she didn’t recognize herself at times.

  “I’m not going to use him, Fighter. It’s, erm, it’s complicated.”

  Fighter nodded. “I didn’t know you before. I only know from what I hear at the club. I’m really sorry you’ve been hurt. You’re a good woman, Rose, a nice woman.”

  “I’m not normally a bitch,” she said, feeling the tears start to well in her eyes.

  “I know, and I’m sorry for everything that has happened.”

  “But you think there has to come a point where I forgive?”

  “Don’t you think you should? I mean, it was ten years ago. Your time for playing the pissed off woman was then. You must have forgiven him at some point. No woman leaves it ten years.” He held his hands up. “Shit, this is not my area. I’m sorry.”

  Rose moved toward the table, taking a seat in front of him. “Don’t go. You don’t have to be upset for what you’re saying. I appreciate you being frank with me. It’s refreshing even though it hurts at times.”

  “What I say to you is not meant to hurt you,” Fighter said.

  “I know. Ten years ago, I thought I couldn’t have kids. I was such a young and stupid fool. Anyway, it affected Hardy’s and my relationship. We pretended it didn’t, but it did. It was my fault. He tried, and I just kept on pushing him away. We shouldn’t have done that. It was our mistake, and one we didn’t take the time to talk over, or to change our outlook on life. We went on, and on.” Glancing down at her hands, Rose found it hard to talk about their mistakes. “Over time, Hardy started spending more and more time at the club. He didn’t want to have sex, and I put it down to him being tired. Stupid, anyway, I caught him actually fucking one of the sweet-butts. He was there, in front of my eyes, fucking her.” She cringed recalling the scene as if it was yesterday. Rose talked about finding out about the sweet-butt being pregnant, then the loss as she was killed along with the baby.

  “Fucking hell,” Fighter said.

  “It was hard, and then I just stopped. I didn’t talk to Hardy about it. I went on, and I became the woman at his side, changing myself to suit him, not myself, even though he didn’t ask me to. I just changed because I thought that it was what he wanted. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.” She’d even convinced herself that it was what Hardy wanted of her, to change.

  “What brought on your sudden anger?”

  Rose tucked some hair behind her ear. “The growth of the club. Angel, Eva, Sophia, Kelsey, they were all having babies, and their men were devoted to them. None of them cheated on their woman, and it was like they were living the life I always wanted. I was jealous, but the Band-Aid that I’d put over my own wounds, tore off, exposing all of that pain once again.” She licked her lips. “Once it was ripped off, there was no going back. I couldn’t change what was happening, and I couldn’t make it better even though I wanted to. Everything that happened only seemed to highlight everything that I’d lost, and that didn’t help either.”

  “How are you feeling now?”

  “Now? I’m shocked, scared, worried. I’m going to be a mom, and I don’t have a fucking clue if I’m ready for this. I’d resigned myself to a life without kids.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Everything is crazy right now.”

  “You’ll get through it. Why didn’t you and Hardy consider adopting like Lacey and Whizz are?”

  “He didn’t want to raise a kid that wasn’t his blood. I wasn’t going to make him do something that he didn’t want to do.”

  “And maybe that was always your problem. You weren’t prepared to fight, either of you. Hardy wasn’t about to let you go, and you weren’t prepared to fight him for what you wanted,” Fighter said.

  “Are you some kind of shrink?”

  “No, I know things.” He gave her a wink. “You don’t go around getting your ass kicked for nothing, without understanding.”

  Rose frowned.

  “I was a psych major before I was a fighter.”

  “I never knew that.”

  “Not a lot of people do,” he said.

  “You were in college?”

  “I was in college, and I dropped out. It wasn’t worth what I wanted out of life.” The sound of another biker coming had Fighter standing up. “That’s my sign to leave.”

  “Have you ever thought about going back to college?”

  “No. I don’t want that life. I became a fighter because I was good at it, Rose. I don’t like working hard for what I want in life.” He turned and left. She followed him down the long corridor to the door. Baker was standing behind the door with his hand raised in the air.

  “Take care of her, man,” Fighter said.

  She watched the two hug and change places.

  Once the door was closed, Baker gave her a smile. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  “Does everyone know?” she asked.

  “Yes. Hardy’s telling everyone who’ll listen. He’s so happy with himself.”

  “How are you handling it?”

  Baker had lost his wife and his unborn child because of a drunk driver.

  “I’m fine with it. I’ve not got a problem with the kids being born, and my brothers finding happiness.”

  “Speaking of happiness, you’re now a patched in member, and you’re babysitting me, why?”

  “I care, and I’ve got nothing else to do.”

  “You’re not stalking Millie today?” she asked.

  Millie was the toy shop owner in Fort Wills. Baker had been smitten with her since Christmas, and found any excuse to visit the shop.

  “She’s, erm, she’s a little skittish around me. I think I scare her, and scaring her has never been my intention.”

  “You’ve not even asked her out on a date?”

  “I don’t date.”

  “Then you’ve got a problem. You need to learn how to date.” Rose made her way back into the kitchen, grabbing a skillet. She was hungry now, and she could handle a nice stack of pancakes with maple syrup, and lots of bacon. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved. I came straight here from the clubhouse. Angel wasn’t even up cooking yet.”

  Angel was one of the best cooks in the clubhouse. Her food could win awards if she entered herself into the competitions.

  “So, dating? When was the last time you did it?” she asked.

  “My wife. I courted her during high school, and we were married the moment we graduated.” Baker smiled. “We got our graduation certificate, and we went to the church. It was fucking awesome. Our parents were there for us, and we spent the afternoon in a hotel room, paid for by our parents. We were both so happy.”

  “It sounds romantic.”

  “It was. We decided that we were going to wait for kids, go to college. I went to culinary school, took over from my dad at the bakery, and we made a go of it. We were so happy. I used to date her, and take her to the movies, bake for her, and I used to plan these elaborate dinners.”

  Rose smiled. “You sound so
romantic.”

  “I don’t know if I was so romantic, but I tried for her. I loved her, and I wanted to give her the best in life.”

  She wondered what it would have been like to have Hardy use similar dating techniques. He’d been the kind of guy to wink, hook his arm through hers, and take her for a burger. There was no love or sweet, darling words from Hardy.

  Was that what she wanted?

  “So, dating? Millie?”

  “I like her.”

  “You’re going to scare her if you keep going into the shop buying toys.”

  “I don’t just buy toys. I pick up purchases for the rest of the boys.”

  Rose chuckled. “She’s going to think you’ve got issues.”

  “I really need some advice on what to do?”

  “Ask her for coffee, Baker. Or better yet, take her one of your baked goods. She’d fall for you there and then.”

  Baker chuckled. “Do women really love having a guy who can bake?”

  “Do you really need me to answer that?” she asked, chuckling, too.

  “No.”

  ****

  Hardy drove across town and came to a stop outside of Millie’s toy shop. There wasn’t a shop that stored baby stuff, and he’d heard the old ladies talking about Millie ordering shit in.

  Climbing off his bike, he pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and entered the shop.

  “Two seconds,” Millie said, shouting from the back of the room.

  This had to be fucking dangerous. No one was in the shop, and he could easily kill her, taking what he wanted. Hardy grabbed his cell phone sending a text to Tiny. He then cursed, remembering that Tiny no longer dealt with this craziness, and sent the same message to Lash.

  Hardy glanced around the decorative toy shop. It was light, beautiful, and every single kid who came through the door would love it.

  Tiny: Not the leader anymore. Txt Lash!!!!!!!!

  Lash: We’ll handle it at church!

  Pocketing his cell phone, he looked up as Millie came from the back. She took one look at him and his leather jacket, and smiled. “Erm, Nash, Gash, no, you’re not Fighter. Crap, I’m really bad with names.”

  “We’ve not officially met. I’m Hardy.”