Who the fuck does she think she is, showing up here, telling me she’s pregnant but not keeping it, and not once letting me try to talk her out of it.
Flipping the table, everything placed on top goes flying onto the old, worn-out rug and I kick one of the bottles spinning on its side across the room. It smashes into the wall but doesn’t smash into tiny pieces.
I have to get out of here. I storm out of the cabin and rev my bike until I’m thrashing the throttle and riding out back home.
Luca’s depressing music is banging away up in his room, and I hear mom and dad chatting in the kitchen.
Mom is cooking, and dad is drinking a beer, sat up the table.
“Have you been crying?” Mom asks, being the first one to notice I’m home.
She goes on alert mode, and steps back from the stove. I’ve spoken with my mom many times over the years, she has good advice usually, and it helps that she doesn’t think like most mothers.
Tonight, I need to speak to my dad.
“I need to talk to you, alone.”
He exchanges a brief look with my mom and then stands, nodding towards the back door.
I follow him out and watch him shudder from the cold. I don’t feel a thing. It could snow around me, and I wouldn’t feel it.
“India’s pregnant,” I blurt out in a rush.
Raising his eyebrows, he stares at me for a moment then opens his mouth.
“No wonder you look like shit,” he says, draining the rest of his beer.
“It’s not because she’s pregnant, it’s because she wants to get rid of it.”
Frowning, he pats himself down and pulls out a pack of his smokes when he finds them in his cut’s pocket.
He lights one and passes it over to me. I take it and inhale so deeply, I inhale half the cigarette and he lights one for himself.
“She wants to kill my grandkid, huh?”
“What can I do? I have to stop her.”
He goes to open his mouth numerous times, but nothing comes out for a full minute.
“I wish this wasn’t happening to you this soon, but what’s done is done. Talk to her, make her see you’ll stand by her, that’s what she’ll want, to know she’s not alone.”
“Her mind was set when she left. I want my baby, dad, and I can’t lose her either.”
“You might be better off talking to your mom, she’s better with the girlie shit.”
“No, if mom finds out, world war three will blow up in our faces.”
“My only advice to you is to talk to her again. Apart from making threats and going against a brother I’ve known for over thirty years, I don’t know how to handle this without causing a war in the club and I ain’t having no wars in my club, son.”
Tears spring to my eyes. I didn’t expect my dad to sort this out, but I was hoping he would be able to give me a hopeful solution.
I grind my fists into my eye sockets to stop any moisture from leaking and try to take deep breaths.
“I’m sorry this happening to you, son.”
So am I.
India
“You’re studying too much,” Mom moans, taking my textbook from me.
“It’s Christmas, Indie. No studying,” Dad says.
I figured if I studied while I’m home, no one will notice the sickly shade of green my face falls every hour suffering with morning sickness, or the fact that I can’t find the energy to smile while Leo won’t talk to me.
“I’m fine, and it wasn’t like I was going to take it with me to the club,” I tell them, as mom shoves a tray of yams into my hands.
“Take them out to the car, your dad is driving today so keep a tight hold on them,” she smirks and I’m grateful to be going out into the fresh air and can drop the pretence of not wanting to throw up over them.
Zach is leaning against his bike, smoking his cigarette, although it looks more like a joint than a cigarette.
It smells like a joint too when I walk by him, since when does he smoke weed?
“Are you ill?” he mutters at me.
“Excuse me?”
“I asked, are you ill? You look like you’re gonna barf constantly.”
Fuck. He decides to take notice of me now, exactly when I don’t want or need it.
“What are you trying to say? I’m not looking my best?”
“Only looking out for you, little sister.”
“You haven’t spoken to me, Zach, in months. In fact, I can’t remember the last time we spoke before I came home for Christmas, which sucked this morning thanks to your awful attitude. Way to go making mom and dad feel like shit.”
“Our mom, your dad,” he spits out bitterly.
“Oh, get over it. He’s your dad, always has been, always will be. Stop being an ass to him, and thank him for wanting you, and loving you, and giving you everything you could ever want.”
A wave of nausea hits me, and I stumble back into the car, dizziness taking over. Zach’s arm shoots out and clasps around my upper arm and I’m thankful he was close by.
“Seriously, Indie,” he growls, angrily, “What is going on with you? You’re not acting right?”
“I changed my birth control, it must be the side effects,” I lie, and he seems to buy it.
“Does dad know you’re on birth control?” he snorts.
“Does dad know you really do love him, and you miss him, and it’s all your own fault you’re an ass?” I throw back at him.
He lets me go and opens the car door for me. I slide across the back seat and he hangs on the door, looking in.
“You don’t understand, India, I hope for your sake we can get through this, but don’t be surprised if it doesn’t. It don’t mean I’m not here for you if you need me.”
“That’s real nice of you, but I’m not interested in having a big brother that doesn’t respect where he came from.”
Scowling, he slams the door shut, and I’m grateful for the few moments on my own. Today is going to be long and hard enough without Zach being a jerk as well. I just hope Leo has come around.
Zach walks over to his bike and continues to finish smoking his joint, and I dig out my phone. I haven’t heard a thing from Leo and he hasn’t answered any of my calls. I shoot off one last message as mom and dad leave the house, telling him I’m on my way and that I hope we can talk today.
His bike is the first one I see when dad parks up at the club and my heart hammers in my chest knowing I’m going to see him any minute. He hasn’t replied to my text, but hopefully, he has thought overnight and realises I am doing the right thing. I’m too focused on the ramblings running around my mind, I don’t notice dad has stopped, and is now opening my door for me.
Another tray of food is dumped on top of the yams in my arms as I climb out dad’s truck, and I follow my parents into the club bar.
I didn’t come here often as a child, mom said it wasn’t no place for me. I used to hate it, I wanted to see what went on, but mom won every time and I stayed home. It all changed after my birthday and I was glad for it, I got to see Leo more.
I search everywhere when I walk in and Leo is standing by the bar, talking to JJ. He stops talking long enough to scowl at me and I know then he hasn’t calmed down. I convinced myself he wouldn’t want a baby at our ages, and he would be happy I’m offering to sort it out. Not once did I think he would want it.
Surprisingly, Zach stays close by and judging by Leo’s mood, I’m glad not to be on my own. I’m doing him a favour, one day he will see that, I know he will.
I drop the trays of food off to Alannah and the smell of meat hits my stomach. As quickly as I can, I dash to the bathrooms and throw my head over the toilet.
The pancakes dad cooked for breakfast make a reappearance and I fall to my knees, weak and clammy.
I don’t suppose anyone enjoys vomiting, but I hate it with a passion. It’s disgusting, and it hurts.
Just when I think I’m done, another wave of sickness hits me, and I feel a large, warm hand ru
b my back, and pull my hair into a ponytail.
The act of kindness doesn’t register until I’m done and fall back against the cubical wall. Leo hovers above me and kneels down beside me.
I see him frown before I close my eyes and try to control my breathing around the need to vomit again.
Something cold and wet touches my forehead and my eyes fly open. Leo must’ve gotten up to dampen some hand towels. It feels nice and I could cry at his softness.
“I read that you could suffer from sickness during the first trimester. How do you feel now?”
His voice is soft, and caring, and makes me feel even more of a bitch.
“Like crap,” I try to smile, but fail.
I go to stand but he’s helping me before I can stand myself, and he throws the towels in the trash.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“You can’t avoid me forever, babe,” he says, not moving away from me.
“You’re the one who has been ignoring my calls all night,” I argue back.
“I’ve been thinking, I tried seeing it from your viewpoint and it doesn’t make sense to get rid. That’s our child, it doesn’t matter what’s going on in our lives, we still made it.”
I don’t have the energy to fight him again on this.
“You won’t change my mind, Leo. We’re not ready.”
“We’re not talking about an old phone you toss out, this is our kid.”
“I’m well aware of that, thank you. Please, try to think of the long term. A baby needs so much more than we can give it right now.”
He flexes his fist, and his jaw sets as his eyes pierce me with so many unspoken words he’s dying to say.
“I’m not going to give up,” he tells me.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
I keep the tears in and slip out of the bathroom. We’re going around in circles and it’s doing us no good.
My dad is sitting at his place at the table and I sit down two chairs down from him and ignore all the food that’s being passed around. Hopefully, if I sit still, mom won’t realise I’m not helping out and ask me to handle the food.
Leo slams the door as he leaves the bathroom and struts over to the bar. He grabs a beer and slams down his cash on the bar. He turns around, searching for me, and when his eyes land my way, he walks over and pulls out a chair opposite me.
Everyone is too busy to notice the anger simmering around him, or the fact he keeps glaring at me.
No matter how hard I try not to look his way, I fail. I guess I’m hoping one time I look at him, he will have softened and he will be there to support me. But, he won’t support me on this and I don’t blame him, I just miss him.
Bowls and platters of food begin to appear on the table. This is hell, and no amount of deep breathing is helping.
Mom pulls out the chair beside me, and dad is quick to pull her against him.
“Dig in, everybody,” Alannah calls out and takes her seat at Cas’s side.
Before she can sit down, everyone is on the move, loading their plates and passing bowls of food, apart from Leo and me. I don’t touch the food for fear of puking on it, and he doesn’t move for fear of taking his eyes off me.
“Before we eat, I’d like to say a few words,” Cas yells, and the place goes quiet.
“First off, happy fuckin’ holidays,” the brothers cheer, and he carries on, “I’ve been thinking lately about our kids, they’re all mostly grown up now and we no longer have little kiddies running around our feet.”
“Oh my god, is Aunt Alannah having a baby?” Victoria blurts out, and I can’t help but laugh. It feels good and Alannah’s face falls in shock.
“What the fuck, Tori?” the twins snipe at the same time.
“You’re not are you, mom?” Luca asks, stricken and face ashen.
“No, of course, I’m not,” she tells him in a hurry, making sure her voice is loud enough for all to hear.
“The fuck, babe? What the hell are you talking about kids for?” she frowns at Cas.
“I’m trying to make a speech here, will everyone shut the fuck up,” he roars, and everyone shuts their mouths.
“What I was trying to say, and no my wife is not fuckin’ pregnant, it’s days like today when you see how strong this family is. If anyone, whoever, decides to have a baby, then they have all of us to keep them going when the kid won’t sleep, or shut up crying, cause they fuckin’ cry all the time, I mean, our Luca never fuckin’ stopped.”
Cas’s ramblings stir a whole bunch of frowns and questioning looks from everyone. Tilting my head, I look to Leo. He must have told his dad. Cas never, and I mean never speaks like this.
“I think someone has been on the tequila already,” someone hollers, I’m pretty sure it was Ricky and Cas throws his hands in the air.
“Fuck the lot of ya, eat your fucking food.”
He slumps down in his chair and throws back his drink. Alannah snickers into his neck and he briefly smiles before he looks at me. Straight at me. The smile soon disappears and now I know he knows, and he’s letting me know he knows.
‘Why did you tell your dad?’
I shoot off a message to Leo and hope he hasn’t left his phone anywhere or hasn’t drunk too much to notice he has a message that I need answering. Cas could tell my dad and soon there won’t be anything to tell. This could turn into a bloodbath over nothing.
‘Have the baby, and I’ll raise it.’
His reply comes back fast, and he ignores my question. I lift my eyes and he is staring straight at me. He can normally hold me down just with a look, but tonight, I’m too afraid to look at him for too long.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly.’
I don’t need to think about it, I know without hesitation I wouldn’t be able to do that. There’s no way I’d be able to go through the pregnancy and hand over my baby and have nothing to do with it.
‘I can’t do that. I want to be a mom when I do have a baby.’
‘You are a mom, the baby just isn’t born yet.’
I reread his text three times and each time, it cuts deeper. I haven’t let myself think in those terms. I’m not a mother.
This time I can feel the tears springing to my eyes and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop them. Pushing out of my chair, no one notices as I head outside. I let the first tear fall and then another, and another.
Silently, I let them all out and scream into my hands. I’m not a mother, he’s not a father, the baby isn’t even a baby yet. I’ve googled the shit out of this and it’s the size of the pea. I wouldn’t even feel it yet.
“I will beg you if that’s what you need, I will fall to my knees and fucking beg.”
I spin around and wipe my eyes dry.
“Is that what you want, to see me on my knees?” he pushes on.
“No,” I sob, “I want you to understand.”
“I understand that I’ve given you the perfect solution to make us both happy, and you still can’t agree.”
He moves closer to me and wraps his arms around me. It’s nice, I feel safe and like nothing in the world can touch me here. He smells of home, and he feels like home.
I sob against his chest, as he strokes my hair softly.
“I wish I knew what a selfish bitch you really were before I fell in love with you,” he whispers harshly into my hair.
I go to step out of his grip, but he doesn’t let me go.
“I love you, India, but you’re breaking my fucking heart and not even trying to hide it. If you kill my baby, you better never return to town. You enjoy the life you’re choosing over our kid’s life, because I will make it hell if you ever come home.”
He releases me, and I’m too stunned to say a word. He doesn’t hide his tear stained cheeks and glares at me.
“I’m sorry, Leo.”
I walk back inside and pray they are not the last words I say to him.
Leo
Numbness. It creeps in as I w
atch her disappear through the door into the bar. One, I can’t believe she walked away, and two, I can’t believe she wouldn’t even listen to me. There’s no point trying to talk to someone who has their mind already set. I know that now. What a waste of breath.
Every step I take, I don’t feel the ground beneath me. I don’t feel the joy weaving itself through the brothers during this festive holiday. I don’t see the happiness.
I only see India sticking to her mom and dad like fucking glue, so I can’t get near her, and then I see the bar.
Fuckers are having a great time all around me and I can’t stand it. What’s so good about Christmas when you don’t get what you want? Nothing, absolutely nothing.
I toss back tequila after tequila and try to forget the girl breaking my heart and taking my future away from me.
Only, after one shot too many, I turn around and she’s all I see. Rage consumes me, and it overrides every secret we’ve shared, every moment we’ve spent together and everything I thought was special.
It carries me back to the table and I kick out the chair and stumble onto it. She chooses to close her eyes rather than look at me. What has she got to hide from? She’s the one calling the shots, making all our decisions, deciding what’s best.
Shit. I forgot to bring a drink with me from the bar. I spy a bottle of beer where my plate used to be, and I grab it. It’s probably mine anyway, if not, who the fuck cares.
“Did you get all you wanted for Christmas, India?” I ask, “Was Santa good to you?”
“He brought too much,” she says, narrowing her eyes at me.
I can feel my dad’s eyes on me and they weigh me down. Fuck this. Pushing up out of my seat, I keep hold of my beer, and get everyone’s attention.
I must have everyone’s eyes on me because as I look around, there’s fucking hundreds of eyes looking at me, I should lay off the drink.
“This summer I met a girl,” cheers fill my ears prematurely, and I hold my hand up to quieten them, and carry on.