“Right, I’m just being paranoid or something.” I swallow as he pumps into me again. No matter how good he feels filling me, I won’t get off. He basically told me that if I were pregnant, he wouldn’t want the baby. He wouldn’t want a piece of me.
No one does. My father abused me in ways I would never wish for anyone to experience. My mother hates me; I’m a burden that she’s counting the days to be rid of. And now the father of my own child doesn’t want the one thing I’m able to offer him- life.
“Or sumthin’,” he agrees, continuing with his pursuit of pleasure.
Silent tears trail over my heated cheeks, but I don’t utter a word. He won’t know my pain, no one will. I’ll be the very thing I’ve needed my entire life. I’ll be strong.
Princess thinks I told Nightmare that I was pregnant, and he pushed me away. It’s why she hates him. She’s never said it out loud; she won’t since it’s Viking’s brother and club business. It’s not her place to tear him down for his choices, even if I am her best friend. She respects her ol’ man, and I respect her for it. Not only that, but it’s a lie. She came to that conclusion on her own, and I let her run with it.
Nightmare doesn’t have any idea that he has a kid out there. At least not with me, anyhow. Who knows if there are others out in the world. I was so damn naïve to believe him the first time we were together, and he told me he couldn’t have kids. More like he was in denial and I proved him wrong.
They can all hate me for my decisions, and that’s fine. I’ve made my choices, and I’ve lived with them every damn day of Maverick’s life. Would I go back and do it differently if I could?
Maybe, but I doubt it.
I had my reasons for keeping him a secret, and, at the time, I felt like I was doing what I had to. Time only built my confidence stronger in my decision. Nightmare never looked for me. For all I know, he never even asked about me. I was nothing, probably not even a memory.
I don’t want that in my kid’s life, someone who won’t remember him. Maverick is everything. He won’t have a life like I had. He'll be surrounded by people who love him, and will protect him.
I’m surprised to hear Night isn’t a Nomad any longer considering his freedom was so important to him after all. Things change, I suppose. I’m guessing that having Viking as the President of his own Charter most likely has a lot to do with it.
I hate lying to Viking. He's never done anything to me personally, and he takes care of my best friend. However, the safety of my child is everything, and if Nightmare wanted me dead for keeping this from him, the club wouldn’t even bat an eyelash, and Mav would be left without a mother.
I shrug, glancing to the side, and deflect, “I think he looks like his mom. Lucky kid, since I’m hot.”
Vike snorts, turning back to the show.
My reply worked…for now. But if Viking can pick him out first thing in the morning, then I may have a harder time when Mav is around people that see his father every day and have a chance to really get a good look at him.
If Princess wasn’t so damn important to me, I never would’ve come here. There’s no reason to after all. My mother doesn’t know about Maverick; she wouldn’t care, and that’s fine with me. She’s not a good person and doesn’t deserve to know my son. And wherever my father ended up, I hope it's six feet under, and he suffered.
The only one I would’ve gone out of my way to have in his life would’ve been Mona—Princess’ mom. I loved her so much; she was a great mom. She died of cancer a few years ago, so having her in Mav’s life isn’t an option.
I was too broke and struggling to make ends meet with Maverick; I wasn’t able to attend her funeral. I hated it, but I know she would’ve understood. She was just like that—always caring for and worrying about others.
She’d have been pissed at me if I’d tried to travel and then something had happened to me or the baby on the road. I said my piece to her at the time, and I still talk to her randomly. She may not really be there, but I talk to her like I believe she is.
“You’re wearing that?” My mouth falls open as Princess comes out of her room.
“Yeah, it’s hot.”
“Exactly, you’ll bake in black leather.”
“They’re shorts, I’ll be fine. Besides, the halter top doesn’t have a back to it.” She spins around, and my mouth drops open again. She’s straight up doin’ the hootchie momma thing.
“Viking!” I mutter and tilt my head toward my friend. He’ll let her out the door like this?
He glances at her, a pleased smirk taking over his lips. He’s as bad as she is.
“How do you go anywhere? Won’t he chop off guys’ heads?” Her ol’ man is nutso when it comes to jealousy, and that’s the last thing I want myself or my kid to see at a barbecue.
“They know better,” he declares, his voice confident and stern. I wouldn’t fuck with him.
She shrugs, waving it off. “They either stare at my face or look at the ground. I could be naked, and no one would comment.”
I hear a growl come from Viking’s direction.
“Jesus.” I shake my head. It’s a wonder he has any club brothers left at this rate.