Devil's Kiss (Hellhounds Motorcycle Club Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter 2

I yanked up the handbrake on my car and killed the engine. Over the past several days I had, mostly, come to grips with what had happened. I still dreaded going in, but I had to. Granny and Grandpa were expecting me and if I failed to show, that would lead to a whole lot of questions that I didn’t want to answer. The sky was dark and gloomy, like my mood, so I spent a moment flipping the top up in case it started to rain… and to delay going in for as long as possible.

When I was finally out of excuses, I clambered from the car and walked to the front door. I paused a moment as I gripped the doorknob, took a deep breath and plastered on a smile before I twisted the knob and walked in.

“Alexandria! I was wondering what was taking you so long,” Granny exclaimed as soon as I stepped inside.

“I was putting the top up. It looks like rain.” I stepped to the stooped woman and gave her a kiss and a hug. Q’Bell Labranche hugged me fiercely and gave me a quick smooch on the cheek. I had to lean down a little to help her reach so we could complete a ritual as old as I was.

“It smells good! Jambalaya?” I asked. I breathed deep and took in the smells of home as I stepped over to Grandpa so I could hug him and give him a kiss on his cheek. He hugged me back, but I could tell he was more interested in the Saints pregame show.

“That’s right. It should be ready in about thirty or forty minutes. So, what has been up with you this week?” Granny asked as she turned her back to me and walked to the kitchen, confident in the knowledge that I was following behind her.

“Same old, same old.” It was the same every week. I would show up for dinner on Sunday evening and Granny and I would talk in the kitchen while Grandpa watched whatever sport was on the television. Granny would ask what I was up to and I would tell her what was new. I knew she wondered when I was going to find me a nice boy, settle down, get married, and start popping out some great-grandkids for her. If she only knew.

I tried to get into the rhythm and flow of the visit, but my heart just wasn’t in it tonight. It had been almost a week since I found out I was pregnant, but it still weighed heavily on my mind. Worse, I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it.

“You okay, honey?” Granny asked, dragging me out of my musing.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You just seem a little quiet this evening, that’s all.”

I never could hide anything from her. “Just tired, I guess. It’s been a long week.”

“I keep telling you, working all hours of the night isn’t good for you.”

“I get eight hours of sleep every night, just like everyone else,” I pointed out, again. I just didn’t get up until one or so in the afternoon.

Granny sniffed. She was one of those that thought sleeping until six was sleeping in. “So you say. You didn’t go to school just so you could tend bar all night.”

I snickered. We didn’t have this conversation
every
week, but we had it often enough. “I know. But I’m making
good
money. You worry too much.”

She smiled at me and I could feel the love pouring out of her. “I’m your grandmother. That’s my job. Come taste this and tell me what you think.”

“Why? You make the best jambalaya of anyone.” I took the spoon and tasted. “It’s different. Not as spicy. What happened?”

“Esten. He complained that the last couple of times I made it that it hurt him.”

“Grandpa? I thought he liked it hot.”

Granny smiled as she gave the pot another stir before whacking the spoon on the side to clean it. “He does. But I don’t think it likes him anymore.”

“Oh phooey. He’s just getting old,” I scoffed as my lips twisted up in a grin. “What’s he going to do, start eating baby food?” The moment I said that, I felt myself flush.

Granny laughed. “I don’t think we’re to that point yet. But just you wait. One day, you will be just like us. You’ll see. I can remember my mother saving tin foil. I always thought that was silly… but now I’m doing the same thing.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. You can get the glasses ready in a few minutes, but until then, we are just waiting for it to get done. Why don’t you go watch TV with your grandpa?”

I grinned. It wouldn’t matter if Granny was preparing a twelve-course meal, she didn’t like anyone meddling in her kitchen while she was cooking.

“Okay. Are you going come, too?” I teased, though I already knew the answer.

“Football? I would rather watch the pot boil.”

***

As we ate I could feel Granny’s eyes on me. I swear, I didn’t know how she knew, but she could always tell when something was bothering me. Grandpa? He was oblivious, but it’s like Granny had radar or something.

We ate and talked. Granny talked about family and neighbors, who was doing what, and so on. Grandpa and I talked a little about the Saints. I didn’t care much for football, or any other sport for that matter, but he helped me stay current so I could talk sports to clients if I needed to. He made it easy for me. I just repeated everything he said, his opinions becoming my own, and it made him happy that he had someone to talk to since Granny couldn’t care less.

I was just scraping the last of my dinner from my bowl when Grandpa announced he was full and pushed back from the table. He moved back to the living room where he turned on the television, the roar of an excited crowd pouring from it. He was kind of old school and believed that picking up his place after eating was women’s work.

“It was good,” I said again, though to be honest, I didn’t like the new toned down version as well as her old recipe.

“I’m glad you liked it,” she said as she rose and began to gather the dishes. I stood and began to help. Her back was too me as she rinsed bowls before placing them in the dishwasher. “Are you sure nothing is bothering you?”

How did she know? “No. I’m good.”

“You’re not having money trouble are you?”

I rolled my eyes as I carried the serving dish from the table back to the stove. “No. Nothing like that,” I said as I dug in the cabinet for plastic storage containers. The jambalaya might not have been as good as what she used to make, but it was still pretty good, and I almost always took leftovers home from with me.

She was quiet for a moment, swishing a brush around the bowls. “Okay. But I can tell something is bothering you. You’re not mad at us, are you?”

I would have laughed at the question, except I could tell she was serious. “No! What reason could I possibly have to be mad at you and Grandpa?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I was asking.”

“Granny, it’s nothing you did, okay? It’s just… life.”

“What’s the matter, honey?” She turned to face me. “Is there something we can help you with?”

I finished scooping tomorrow’s dinner into the plastic container and sealed the lid. I concentrated on pouring the remainder of the dish into the larger of the two containers and didn’t answer.

“Alexandria? Tell me what’s wrong.”

I could feel the tears threatening, but I fought them off. She scraped the remains out of the serving bowl into the plastic container and then took the dish from my hands and placed it back on the stove.

“Alex?”

She hardly ever called me Alex and I could feel the tears threaten again. I pulled her into a hug and held her tight. “I’m in trouble,” I said with a sniff.

“What kind of trouble?” she murmured as she held me.

“I’m…” I began but stalled, unable to say it, afraid of her reaction.

“Alexandria…” she cooed as she slipped from my embrace. “You can tell me anything. Tell me what’s wrong, honey.”

“I’m afraid you will hate me.”

I watched as Granny’s face softened, almost as if she were going to cry. “Alex, honey, I could never hate you,” she said as she touched my face and pushed my hair back. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m… pregnant…” I watched for her reaction. I could tell she was shocked, rocked back on her heels by my admission, but she didn’t look mad.

“Are you sure?” she asked after a moment.

“Yes.”

“Do you know who the father is?”

That question hurt my feelings, but I said nothing. “Yes. His name is Cain.”

“Does he know?”

“No. Not yet.”

“You need to tell him. He has a right to know he’s a father.”

“Yes. I know.” I left out the part that I didn’t know how to reach him. It was just supposed to have been a quick tumble to have an itch scratched. I know his first name and nothing else, except he was a biker from Dallas and was trouble.

“What does he do?”

I paused, wondering how to explain it. I finally go with what he told me. “He’s in sales.”

“What does he sell?”

“I don’t know! I just met him the one time, okay? I’m a whore, all right? I don’t know that much about him. I just know he is from Dallas and he was in town on business. He came into
The Claw
and I let him take me back to his room!” I wiped at my eyes as I stared at my shoes. “I’m sorry.” Granny took me into another hug and held me tight. I couldn’t hold my tears anymore. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was careful. I don’t know how it happened,” I sobbed.

“Shhh… It’s okay. These things happen. You’re not the first girl to get pregnant without being married. And I don’t want to hear you say things like that again, okay?”

“What things?” I whimper.

She pulled out of my embrace and steered me to the table where we sat down. “About you being a whore. You’re not a whore, Alexandria. You’re a beautiful, bright, young woman that has made a mistake. It happens all the time. We’ll get through it.”

“But I didn’t make a mistake,” I said quietly. “It’s not fair. I was so careful. I have always been careful. It’s not fair that this happened to me.”

“I know honey. But it has happened and you’re going to have to deal with it. Do you know how to get in touch with…Cain, was it?”

“Yes. Cain. And no, I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“But he’s from Dallas? Do you know his last name?”

“He’s from Dallas. At least that is what he told me, but no, I don’t know his last name. I don’t think he told me.”

I saw Granny frown and I knew what she was thinking. Her granddaughter had gone to bed with a man that she didn’t even care enough about to get his last name. “You met him at the bar?”

“Yes. I guess I could ask around. See if anyone knows how to get in touch with him.”

“You need to do that. Not only does he need to know he’s going to be father, but you’re going to need some help.”

“Help?”

“Honey, you have no idea how much your life is about to change. If he is a good man he will do the right thing.”

I felt myself flash hot. “Marry me?” Nuh-uh. No way, no how, not on any day. I had enough problems already without getting involved with some outlaw biker club.

“If you love each other. But he should at least try to help you with expenses if nothing else. What are you going to do?”

“Do?”

“Yes. Are you going to keep it or…”

“Abortion?” I hissed. I couldn’t believe she would even suggest such a thing.