“Fuckin’ knock it off. That shit ain’t gonna help find Sailor. Reel it the hell in before I knock you on your ass.” My breathing is heavy. I’m fighting to get out of Shovel’s hold. The only thing that will calm me is having Sailor back in my sight.
“You good?” Shovel asks from behind. I nod, shrugging him off, knowing it’s only because he let me go. He may be years older than me, but the man is built.
“I’m gonna watch that surveillance video. I don’t care what you guys say. I don’t care how bad it is. If that were your woman, you’d be doin’ the same thing.” Shovel moves around to my front.
“You’re right. Fuck, I forgot how you got your road name. The damn meeting room felt the wrath, and your pop’s face, well, let’s just say your mother will be pissed, worried, and a slew of other shit. So, simmer your shit, get a shot of whiskey, smoke somethin’, but you actin’ like this it ain’t gonna help, you hear me?” Shovel’s hands grab my neck, making sure that he has my full attention.
“I fucked up. Was tryin’ to protect her from this shit, makin’ sure we were rock steady while being sent out of town. Fuck.” I close my eyes. So many memories of Sailor and me are on replay, along with not knowing where my woman is right now. Shit this is not gonna be easy.
“We all fuck up. Now it’s time to use your head and get your woman back.”
“Sorry about the mess and your face,” I tell the two men who are able to pull me back when my anger goes off like a rocket.
“Eh, your mom will kiss it better,” Dad jokes.
“A prospect will clean it up, no biggie. Not like it’s never been done before, though not sure the window’s been busted. That’s a first.” Shovel shrugs his shoulders. We move out of the room, making our way to my dad’s office. I’m ready to figure this shit out and have my woman back home and in my arms, where she fuckin’ belongs.
CHAPTER 12
SAILOR
I wake up slowly, already knowing the scent and the feel of the fabric beneath my body isn’t that of my own. It’s definitely not Jackson’s room either, not with the way I’m shivering. My hands wrap around my middle, attempting to ward off the cold, hating that I’m not wearing enough clothes. I mean, sure, we can pretty much wear what we want at the bar, but everyone knows that showing some skin goes a long way in the tip department. If Jackson were here, I’d be eating my words right about now, but I know once I start showing, things will be completely different. The past couple of days, I’ve looked at my bills, what I have saved, putting myself on a budget, which sadly means buying clothes, shoes, and accessories is now on a permanent hold, means I’ll be working at the bar until I can’t anymore. It’ll be worth it, though, to have a nice little nest egg. Being able to stay home after this little nugget is born for a while will be worth everything.
“Come, the boss wants you.” My eyes pop open. Scarface greets me, making me realize this isn’t a bad dream, it’s my reality, and I have no idea what is going to happen to me. I take in the room. The walls are bare, white. The couch I’m sitting on is probably from the eighties, brown, floral, and one your grandparents had that was then handed down to your parents. I look down at my body, making sure that I’m still wearing what I was to work, and everything is in place.
“Okay.” I’m reluctant to go anywhere with this oversized, steroid-pumped man who had no problem pistol-whipping me when I was willingly getting into his vehicle. “Shit.” That taste, oh God, that awful taste in my mouth comes at the worst time ever. Before I know it, I’m sitting up, head spinning, knowing what’s going to happen before it does, and it’s only going to get worse by the second.
“What are you doing!” It comes out more like a statement than a question, and that’s of course when I throw up everything, knees spread, thankfully not getting any of it on myself, but the same can’t be said for this guy’s floor.
“What the fuck are you yelling at, and why do you have Henley here when I told you to stay with her, not bring her here, fottuto idiota?” a refined voice asks. I’m still taking care of myself, attempting to stop the mess that is my body and child who decided to be like ‘Oh, hey, Mom, I’m still here in case you haven’t noticed.’ Believe me, I know he or she is still in there; it’s the reason why I’m remaining so calm.