The Cut by Carol Lynne: Kings of Bedlam MC Series, Book One (23 page)

Jack continued to study Stake for several moments before giving him a sharp nod. “I’m glad to hear that.” He glanced at the address and phone number Stake had scribbled down before climbing behind the wheel. “Good luck to ya.”

“Thanks.” Despite being on opposite sides of the law, Stake respected the Ranger. He went back inside the club and clapped Tiny on the back. “We’re good. They’re shelving the investigation for now due to lack of evidence.”

Tiny let out a long breath. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Church!” Cecil yelled from the meeting room doorway.

“You planning to bring up your transfer?” Tiny asked as he finished his beer.

“Hell, yeah. Mad Dog’s adored by the whores, so getting the okay from the cops was the last roadblock between Santana and me. Can you get away for a couple of days to help me move?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask Cecil because I’ve already scheduled time off for the Bikes, Blue and Barbeque thing next month,” Tiny replied. “If I can get both weekends, I will, but otherwise, pussy and barbeque has to win out.”

Chuckling, Stake pulled out his phone. “Go on in, I’m gonna give Santana the good news before I have to drop the phone off.” He hated the strict no phones in church policy, but it had always been that way. When her voicemail clicked on, he groaned. “Hey, it’s me. Thought I’d call before things get busy. I’ll try ya again later.” He set his phone on the table outside the meeting room along with all the others, excited by the notion he’d be with her within a day or two.

* * * *

After a hot shower and pulling on one of Stake’s old T-shirt, Santana climbed into bed. The combination of a full day of yard work and the positive pregnancy stick on the bedside table left her a snotty, sobbing mess. Although she’d somehow managed to stop crying, she had no doubt her eyes would be swollen in the morning. She picked up her phone and called Gypsy.

“Everything okay?” he answered. It had taken him four rings to pick up and from the sound of the bitching woman in the background, Santana had a pretty good idea what she’d interrupted.

“Sorry to bother you. I’m pretty sore, so if it’s okay, I think I’ll sleep in tomorrow.” She rolled to her side and brought her knees up, curling into a ball.

“It’s fine. I can run by and get the floor crew started. No problem.” He didn’t say anything more, and she was about to hang up when he finally sighed. “You’ve been crying.”

And, just like that, the damn broke again. She’d spent the majority of her life refusing to give into tears, so where had her willpower gone when she needed it the most?

“Santana? What’s wrong, hon?” Gypsy asked, sounding incredibly worried.

“I’m pregnant,” she managed to say between sobs.

“That’s good news. Why the hell’re you crying about it?”

“Because Stake doesn’t want kids,” she confessed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, and now I don’t know what to do.”

The woman in the background said something Santana couldn’t hear but she definitely heard Gypsy’s response to her. “Then get the fuck out, bitch.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that, Santana.”

“I should let you go,” she said, drying her tears. “I’ll figure this out somehow.”

“What is there to figure out? You have to tell him.”

She knew Gypsy was right, but how could she? Stake had already given her more than she’d ever dreamt of, asking him to care for a child he didn’t want would be pushing their relationship too far.

“Santana,” Gypsy growled into the phone. “You have to tell him.”

“I know, but what if…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t even think of living without Stake.

“Don’t,” Gypsy warned. “Don’t borrow trouble. Tell him. Don’t automatically assume you know how he’s going to react. That’s not fair to him.”

“Okay. I’ll call him right now.” She blew out a breath. Gypsy was right. She had to get it over with and deal with the fallout afterward. “Thanks for listening.”

“Call me after you talk to him. I’ve run off my pussy for the night, so I’m not busy.”

“I will.” She hung up and started to call Stake when she noticed he’d left a message while she’d been in the shower. She quickly listened to the message before calling.

“Hello?” a sultry voice answered.

Santana pulled the phone away from her ear and glanced at the display to make sure she’d dialed the right number. “Is Stake there?”

“He’s in the shower. Is this Santana?”

Santana swallowed the bile working its way up her throat. “Yes. Who’s this?”

The woman let out a soft giggle. “Rachel. I’ve been meaning to thank you for leaving town. It’s been so nice to have Stake back in my bed, and I just wanted to tell you, expecting him to come to your rescue like that was a really shitty thing to do to him. You used his loyalty to your father against him by tricking him into taking responsibility for you.”

The breath froze in Santana’s chest as she threw her phone across the room. It hit the mirror over the credenza and fell down the wall in pieces, cracking the mirror in the process. “Damn him!” she screamed as she jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet as her life fell apart.

Sometime later, she heard the sound of the room phone ringing but ignored it. She was too numb to move or speak to anyone. Nothing in her lifetime had ever hurt her more than knowing Stake had already replaced her. She couldn’t help but believe that’s why he’d been so distant on the phone lately.

She heard her door open and come up short with the rattle of the chain lock. “Santana!”

“Go away, Gypsy!” she screamed even though her throat felt raw.

“Open this fucking door before I break it,” he warned.

It took her a few minutes to get to her feet. Once she was finally up, she forgot what she was doing until she heard a loud crack. She blinked several times, looking around the bathroom for the source of the sound.

“Santana,” a soft voice said her name.

She turned to find Stake standing in the doorway. “You’re here.” She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his chest. “Rachel told me you were in the shower. She said you were fucking her.”

Strong arms wrapped around her, and she closed her eyes, happy it had all been a dream. She inhaled deeply as she always did when Stake held her. She froze when she smelled spice rather than citrus. Jerking back, she stared up into a face that wasn’t Stake’s at all.

“Gypsy?” She reached out for the vanity when her legs began to buckle, the horror of the phone call flooding back to her.

“Fuck,” Gypsy said, sweeping her up into his arms. He carried her to the bed and gently laid her down before pulling the covers over her. He sat on the edge of the mattress and brushed her hair away from her face. “What the fuck happened?”

She stared up at Gypsy, willing her lips to move. “Rachel answered Stake’s phone.”

“Who the fuck’s Rachel?”

“A pretty girl that Stake likes to fuck, evidently.” She buried her face in the pillow. “I’ve been a fool. She told me that he was only taking care of my because of my dad. I should’ve known. How could I have been so stupid, so greedy?”

Chapter Twelve

After church, Stake hung back until the rest of the brothers filed out. He’d been given permission to transfer with the understanding that Mad Dog could handle the girls. “I just wanted to make sure you’ll talk to Digger on my behalf?” he asked his uncle.

“Already done,” Cecil said, getting to his feet.

Stake held out his hand, but Cecil surprised him by pulling him in for a hug. “I’m back to being your uncle now, boy,” Cecil bellowed in his ear.

After nearly twenty years in the club, Stake wasn’t sure how he could be expected to forgive everything Cecil had done and accept him as his uncle again, but he didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize his transfer. He patted Cecil on the back twice before pulling away. “I’m going to pick up a moving truck tomorrow. I should be out of here the morning after that. Can Tiny take a few days off to help me move?”

“Sure,” Cecil agreed. He speared Stake with his gaze. “One more thing before you leave.”

“Yeah?” Stake held his breath, wondering what hoop he needed to jump through next.

“Did you kill Gordon?”

“No, but I wish I had,” Stake answered honestly.

“You know who did?” Cecil asked.

Stake didn’t trust Cecil with that kind of knowledge. “Nope,” he lied. He left the room and stopped off at the table to retrieve his phone, noticing he had three messages all from Gypsy. His heart thudded as he listened to the first message.

“What the fuck have you done? Sananta’s…fuck, I don’t know what she is, man, but I’ve never seen a woman break down like she has. It’s one thing for you to screw around on her, but you’d better tell that bitch of yours not to answer your fucking phone next time.”

While he tried to work out the first message, Stake continued to the second.

“I’m worried. I don’t know whether I should take Santana to the hospital or just wrap her up and take care of her my way. You’d better fucking call me, you bastard.”

He started toward the door as he played the last message.

“How fucking long does a shower take, motherfucker? I finally got Santana to sleep, but I’m worried about what this is doing to the baby.”

Stake stopped in his tracks. “What the fuck?” He called Gypsy, something he should’ve done right away instead of listening to the string of incoherent messages.

“’Bout fuckin’ time,” Gypsy answered.

“What the hell’s going on?” Stake asked, climbing onto this bike. He felt like his heart was about to beat through his chest. All he knew was he was leaving immediately to ride to Arkansas. Fuck his shit, nothing in his house was more important than Santana.

“Santana called you earlier, and your little whore Rachel answered. I still haven’t gotten the whole story out of Santana, but evidently your piece of ass on the side really laid into her.”

“I’ve been in fucking church for the last three hours, so I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about as far as Rachel, and I really don’t know what fucking baby you’re worried about.”

Gypsy sighed. “Shit. If you’ve been in church all evening then Rachel hijacked your fucking phone.”

Stake glanced around the parking lot. His gaze landed on Rachel’s sport car. “That fucking bitch.” He climbed off his bike, intent on finding the cunt. “And the baby? What baby?”

“The one Santana’s carrying. She’s been crying all evening, wondering how she was going to tell you. That’s why she called in the first place,” Gypsy explained.

“And Rachel answered instead,” Stake surmised. “Talk about a fucked up mess.” He threw open the door of the club. “I’m leaving here in thirty minutes or less. Expect me by morning.”

Stake shoved the phone in his pocket. “Where’s Rachel?” he asked the room.

The prospect pointed toward the back. “I saw her go back with Tiny after the meeting,” he said, trying to keep his voice low enough that Magic didn’t hear.

“Thanks.” Stake walked down the hallway to the room Tiny often used to fuck his whores and opened the door without bothering to knock. Rachel was naked with her lips wrapped around Tiny’s cock.

“What the fuck?” Tiny asked.

“Sorry about this.” Stake grabbed a handful of Rachel’s bleached blonde hair and yanked her head back. “You fuckin’ bitch. How dare you fucking answer my phone and upset the mother of my child.” He pulled her off the bed and toward the door.

“Let go of me!” Rachel screeched, scratching at his arms.

Stake gripped her hair tighter and twisted one of her arms behind her back as he pushed the naked slut into the main area of the club. “Where the fuck is Magic?”

“No!” Rachel screamed, trying to get away.

“Cecil’s office,” one of the brother’s replied.

Without knocking, Stake opened Cecil’s door and pushed Rachel inside. “I’ve never hit a fucking woman in my life, but I’m two seconds away from killing this one.” He pointed at Magic. “Keep your slut of a daughter at home before she tries to break up more families.”

“Daddy!” Rachel cried, running to stand behind Magic.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Magic demanded. “How dare you put your hands on my daughter.”

“I fucking dare because she answered my phone while I was in church and told Santana that I was in the shower because we’d just fucked!” Stake shouted, his anger out of control. “Rachel’s the biggest slut the club has. Ask her? Better yet, go out there and ask your brothers how many have fucked her in the last month?”

Magic turned on Rachel. “Is that true?”

Rachel had pulled a throw off the ratty couch and had wrapped it around her. “He used me,” she accused, pointing to Stake.

Disgusted, Stake held up his hand. “I’m outta here.” He gestured to Rachel. “That mess if for you to sort out.”

* * * *

Only an hour outside of Fayetteville, Stake was forced to stop for gas. He filled up the tank before going inside to get a cup of coffee. He’d survived the night on adrenaline, but even that was staring to wane.