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Brittany

T his morning, I’m pacing in my apartment. It’s been a month since Tusk was patched into the Legion, and I’m still not in his property cut. We’ve been together for almost eleven months. If he doesn’t know by now whether he wants me, I don’t know what else I can do to convince him.

I toy with the magnificent bracelet he gave me, trying to work through what I might be doing wrong—what’s keeping our relationship in this holding pattern.

I’m doing everything I can think of to turn my life around. I don’t stay at the clubhouse anymore. Tusk and I talked about living together. But his kids visit every other week since he has joint custody. They’re young, so we decided to ease them into knowing me before we even consider me moving in.

I stay at his place a lot when they’re with their mom. For now, I have a one-bedroom apartment in the same complex as him. We’re both satisfied with the arrangement so far.

The club used to be my whole life, but now I only go there if I’m with Tusk or meeting an occasional friend. Otherwise, I have no reason to be there. If I’m totally honest, it’s a relief. My time there was filled with stress, conflict, aggravation, and the constant desperation of trying to find a good relationship. Nothing ever worked out for me at the clubhouse—until Tusk came along. It didn’t matter to me that he was just a prospect. I fell for him almost immediately.

I have a job as a receptionist at a doctor’s office. Rider’s old lady, Frannie, got me the job, I’m not remotely qualified for it, but they promised to train me. The pay is enough to cover my expenses, and the work is growing on me. I’m even thinking about taking classes to become a nurse.

Today, I arranged to meet Tex’s wife, Clara, at the clubhouse for breakfast. She wants to plan a birthday party for Tex, and I offered to help her.

We’re unlikely friends, to be honest. Clara’s husband was the one who cheated with Tusk’s wife. It blew up both their lives. Their situation is even more complicated because Tusk’s wife is Clara’s sister. I don’t know if I could handle my sister cheating with my husband without beating her ass, but Clara takes it in stride. She’s clearly a better woman than me.

Anyway, Clara and Tusk remain friends. Why not? They both know the sting of betrayal from the same situation.

She’s been my one true friend. She accepted that the most fucked-up club girl in the clubhouse could turn her life around and find enough redemption to be worthy of a brother. I tend to get a lukewarm reception from most of the other old ladies. They aren’t exactly rude, but they don’t invite me to their gatherings. Maybe it’s because Tusk hasn’t given me his property cut yet—so although I’m no longer a club girl, I’m not quite an old lady in their eyes yet.

In a lot of ways, club life is way more complicated than it seems at first glance.

As for the brothers, they look right through me. I get the feeling it’s either because they see me as Tusk’s woman and don’t want to piss him off by being overly friendly, or they’re annoyed that I left the club girl life—making one less girl to go around. Either way, my warm reception at the clubhouse has dried right up.

My phone alarm buzzes, reminding me it’s time to leave for my breakfast meeting with Clara. I’m still feeling a little sick to my stomach, I’ve been feeling off for a couple of days, but I guess working in a doctor’s office I’m more likely to pick up bugs. I decide it might be best to skip breakfast and just have tea and crackers. I quickly cram some saltines in my purse and head for the clubhouse.

This is Tusk’s week with his kids, so he won’t be available all weekend. Me time is good, and absence makes the heart grow fonder, I tell myself.

When I get to the clubhouse, the prospects wave me through the gate without much fanfare. I park my car and walk inside—only to find Tusk there with his entire family. Even his ex-wife is sitting at the table.

One of the boys is wearing a sparkling blue birthday hat. I glance away. Gina, his ex-wife, hates me. I’ve already gotten some nasty text messages from her. I don’t know what her problem is seeing as she’s the one who cheated. Tusk swears he didn’t give her my number. Then again, he also told me he didn’t take his ex-wife out or spend time with her.

I convince myself this is just because of a special occasion. It has to be that—because if not, the man I love is lying to me. And I won’t accept that.

Clara waves at me from a table straight back from the door, so I don’t have to pass Tusk and his family. I eagerly rush over and drop into a seat opposite her. The urge to run away claws at me—to get out of here before I have to see Tusk surrounded by his family.

I don’t, though, because I promised Clara. Planning the perfect party for Tex is important to her, and I can’t let her down.

She looks up at me and smiles. “Thanks for coming out to meet me today, Brittany.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it. I have the weekend to myself and could use an interesting distraction.”

She beams. “I know you like hot tea instead of coffee in the morning, so I brought you one to start your day off right. I figured we could fill our plates once you got here.”

“That was thoughtful. I can’t thank you enough.” I slide the paper cup of tea closer and add a couple of packets of sugar. Then I pull out my crackers and open them.

“What were you thinking in terms of a party?” I ask. “Something large or small?”

Clara glances at Tusk and his family. Lowering her voice, she asks, “Girl, are you going to pretend that isn’t happening? Gina is sitting there acting like she owns the place.”

I rub my forehead and whisper back, “What choice do I have?” Taking a soothing sip of tea, I do my best to explain. “I know that Tusk and I have been exclusive for months, but he hasn’t given me his property cut. The reality is, I have no real claim on him. You know what I mean?”

She nods. “I get it. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Shooting another quick glance at them, she says, “Gina and I haven’t been on speaking terms for a long time. If you’re sure, we’ll stay. If not, we can always do this later.”

Just then, Tusk gets up and walks out of the clubhouse with his family. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even see me come in, much less recognize me sitting in the back with my back turned. I also notice that he’s not wearing the knife I gave him, even though he normally never takes it off.

I don’t know how to interpret that. My emotions are all over the place.

I’m too choked up to speak when Silver slithers over to our table. By the look on her face she’s ready to twist the knife.

“Long time, no see. I hate that you had to witness Tusk making up with his ex-wife like that. It must have been devastating.”

Clara hisses, “Go away, Silver. This is hard enough without you gloating.”

“I’m not gloating. Not at all. I’m actually pretty pissed,” she says. “I overheard them talking about giving it another go—for the kids. His ex-wife asked if he’d been with other women since they separated, and he said, ‘Just club whores.’”

She shakes her head. “I thought Tusk was better than that. I really believed he saw us as people—not just a handy hole to stick his junk in.”

I feel sicker than ever. My first impulse is that Silver is lying. She lies all the time, so why should I believe a word she has to say?

“Silver, just leave me the hell alone. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“I can see you’re having trouble believing that your favorite brother would say something like that about us club girls,” she taunts. “I’m not the only one who heard him say it. Call Brenda over here and ask her yourself.”

“Shut up and go away. I’m serious.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll fetch her.” Silver pulls out her damn silver phone and starts texting.

Feeling like I’m about to throw up, I take a calming sip of my tea and pop a saltine into my mouth.

Something about sipping tea and eating crackers makes the craziest thought spring into my head. Could I be pregnant? When was the last time I had my implant replaced?

That idea stuns me. I freeze in place, turning it over in my head, before shoving it aside.

Suddenly, Brenda is standing beside Silver, telling me the same thing Silver did—but with an enormous twist.

“I heard Tusk tell his ex that she was the only person he ever truly loved, but that he’s had a hard time forgiving her for cheating on him.”

So what? I think to myself. Everybody knows that.

Brenda keeps going, clearly enjoying herself.

“She told him that she’s apologized a hundred times, and if he came back home, she’d make sure he never had to beg for sex again. And he agreed—embarrassingly fast.”

And there it is—the one piece of information no one else knew but me.

My heart cracks in two right then and there.

They are reporting things they couldn’t possibly know unless they overheard it themselves.

Finally, Clara raises her voice. “Alright, that’s enough. You’ve made your point.”

Silver huffs and looks at Brenda. “Why are you getting rude with us? We were only trying to help.”

“The hell you were. Both of you are way too thrilled to be delivering bad news today,” Clara snaps. “If you don’t get the hell away from us, I’m going to report you to Rigs. I hear he’s still not your biggest fan.”

“Fine. See if we try to help you again,” Silver says before flouncing off in a huff.

Clara lowers her voice again. “I swear, some of the women around here are like teenagers with all their backbiting and gossiping.”

When I don’t immediately respond, she studies me. “What’s going on? Your hand is trembling. Do you need me to take you to the doctor?”

I reach out and grab her hand, leaning in closer. “If I tell you something in confidence, will you promise not to tell a living soul?”

She hesitates. “I don’t like to keep things from Tex,” she stammers.

“Trust me, this is not anything he’d be interested in. I need someone to confide in—a friend I can trust.”

She sits up a little straighter. “Alright, no matter what happens, I won’t tell anyone.”

Letting go of her hand, I glance around to make sure no one is close before whispering, “I think I might be pregnant.”

Her eyes go wide. “Okay,” she says cautiously. “How are we feeling about this? Considering that Tusk is getting back together with his wife, is being pregnant a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Considering the man I’m madly in love with is not only getting back with his ex-wife but apparently considers me a whore, I’d have to say this is pretty damn bad.”

“What are you going to do?” she asks.

“I don’t know what I can do. I definitely don’t make enough to support a child.” I don’t tell her about my dark past—about how a kid wouldn’t even be safe with me.

I bring the cup of tea to my lips with a shaky hand and drink. This can’t be happening to me, not when I finally start to get my life in order.

Clara grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “First things first, we have to verify whether or not you’re pregnant. Once we figure that out, you’ll be in a position to decide on the next step.”

I nod, feeling numb, like I’m having some kind of out-of-body experience.

Clara says decisively, “And I’m going to drive. You’re shaking too much to be behind the wheel.” Coming to her feet, she adds, “We’ll stop at a pharmacy and pick up a few pregnancy kits and something to settle your stomach.”

I stand up on shaky legs and follow her lead. We get into my car, and she drives. I don’t want my car left at the clubhouse. Clara tries to make polite conversation along the way, but I’m too numb to engage properly.

***

By the time we pick up the pregnancy kits and get to my apartment, it’s around eleven in the morning. She hands me the bag and ushers me into the bathroom.

I open all six packages and lay them out on the counter. Why did I buy six? I have no idea. Maybe it’s my go-big-or-go-home thought process.

Getting undressed, I step into the shower and pee on each stick in turn. Then, I line them all back up on the counter.

Afterward, I take a short shower—just for something to do. Standing around staring at those pregnancy tests for ten or fifteen minutes would drive me insane.

The whole time I’m in the shower, I try to reconcile the Tusk I know with the man I saw having family time with his ex-wife and kids. I wonder if this was a spur-of-the-moment thing or something he had planned for a while.

The best case scenario is that he arranged a birthday party for one of his kids and got momentarily nostalgic for how his family used to be. Maybe he had good intentions and ended up getting sucked in? He’s probably planning to tell me after the party is over. I’m not even going to think about the worst case scenario, the one that I dread. That Silver and Brenda were telling the truth, and he thinks I’m nothing but a whore.

I step out of the shower, dry off, and get dressed before walking over to look at the tests.

I can’t believe it.

All of them are positive.

Every. Single. One.

Then, I turn right around, walk into the living room, and lie to the one person I trust most in this world.

Flashing my biggest smile I say breezily, “They were all negative. False alarm.”

The relief on Clara’s face makes me feel guilty. I asked for her help, and then I lied—because I’m the kind of woman who keeps my secrets close.

“One less thing to stress about, right?”

I force a smile and say, “I guess.”

Glancing away, I speak words I never thought I’d say. “Look, you know Tusk pretty well. He was married to your sister, had kids with her, and was part of your family for a long time. Do you think what they’re saying is true? That he’s getting back with Gina?”

Clara’s brow creases in confusion. “Normally, I would have said no. But seeing them together today makes me think it’s possible. They’re usually at each other’s throats.”

I try and keep my expression neutral, but inside I’m falling apart.

Clara continues, “My husband Chris—who was her affair partner—left her right after our divorce was final. Since then, she’s been trying to get back with Tusk, but he wouldn’t have anything to do with her.”

She trails off, pausing for a moment as if searching for the right words to express her thoughts.

“But today was different. They were relaxed, laughing together—like a real family. It was… confusing.”

“It sounds like they’re getting back together. Three eyewitnesses can’t all be wrong, right? And I saw the ‘happy family’ thing with my own eyes.”

Clara sighs. “I’m really sorry this is happening to you, Brittany. You don’t deserve to be blindsided like this.”

“The old, selfish me would have hoped and prayed he wasn’t leaving. Maybe, even begged him to stay. The new and improved me just wants him to be happy. If that means getting back with his wife to keep his family together, then so be it.”

When Clara just stares at me, I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I can’t believe I just said that either. I guess I really did change for him.”

Clara springs to her feet and pulls me into a tight hug. “Not many people could have turned their life around the way you did. Whether or not you and Tusk end up together, I want you to know that you’re an amazing person.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m not. I blew into town with a chip on my shoulder and hurt a lot of people—including you, when you first got with Tex. But karma’s a bitch. I guess it’s time for me to reap what I sow.”

Clara shakes her head. “I don’t believe that for a second. Karma isn’t real. Look at me—I led a charmed life and never hurt anyone. Then my sister decided to have an affair with my husband, and my husband apparently jumped at the chance. So, tell me—why did karma blow my life apart?”

I sigh. “I know what you mean. Sometimes shitty people get off scot-free, and innocent people get ground down for no reason.”

“Exactly.”

I shrug. “I guess, deep down, I feel like I deserve to lose everything good in my life as payment for my past sins. Since there’s no one else to blame, I want to blame karma.”

“Sometimes, relationships just don’t work out, and it’s nobody’s fault,” Clara says softly. “Please don’t think you deserve to be hurt. You don’t. Trust me on this.”

I reach out and give Clara a short hug. Then, I lie to her one last time. “I think I climbed out on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Being blindsided like this has been mentally exhausting. I might grab a short nap and then head out east to visit my family.”

She smiles warmly. “Drive safe. Text me to let me know how you’re doing. And give me a heads-up when you get back to town—we’ll do lunch. Don’t worry about driving me back to the clubhouse. I texted the prospects to bring my car. This club has spoiled me.”

“You deserve to be spoiled. And thank you, Clara. I mean that. You’ve been a really good friend. I’m glad you came into my life.”

We say our goodbyes, and instead of napping, I sit on my sofa, curled up with a pillow, turning everything over in my mind.

I thought I had it all with Tusk—that he truly loved me.

I don’t know if I believe the part about him calling the club girls whores, but I can see him trying to keep his family together. If his wife asked for another chance, he might have felt morally obligated to take her up on it—for his kids’ sake.

Really, who could blame him?

Of course, he might have just missed his old life. Maybe he still has feelings for his wife. I’m probably kidding myself that he’s doing this only for the kids. Ugh. It feels horrible to be cast aside, even for a good reason.

I get up from the sofa, walk into the bathroom, and stare down at the pregnancy tests.

They’re all still positive. The question is, how far along am I?

I’ve been feeling nauseous for over a week, maybe longer? I was off my food before that, but I just put it down to excitement about my new job, and then Tusk getting patched in. I know from talking to the old ladies that morning sickness usually starts between four and six weeks—and gets bad around ten or twelve.

That means I might be between two and a half to three months along.

God, I need to see a doctor.

I grab some toilet paper, clean the exterior of all the test kits, dry them, and seal each one in a separate zipper bag.

If someone asked me why I’m doing this, I wouldn’t have an answer. For some reason, keeping this tangible proof of my pregnancy feels important.

But I already know—I’m keeping the baby.

There’s no doubt in my mind.

I could never bring myself to end a pregnancy, much less one that belongs to the man I love.

I believe Tusk cared about me.

A relationship just isn’t in the cards—because of reasons beyond his control. And I understand that.

My hand drifts to my stomach as I imagine what our child will look like. I’m lucky to have this baby. A vivid reminder of the man I love. Even with my heart breaking, I can’t bring myself to regret what we had—or the life we created together.

Gathering up the test kits, I take them to my room and drop them into my purse. Then, I start going through my things, trying to decide what to take and what I can leave behind.

***

I spend all weekend boxing up my belongings, stacking them by the front door. Somehow, I manage to fit everything I need into my car.

Bright and early Monday morning, I call my employer and quit my job, telling them I have a family emergency out of state.

Dr. Greenberg calls back. He’s nicer than I deserve.

I haven’t been there long enough to disrupt their operations, so I’m not really leaving them in the lurch. Still, I feel bad for quitting so suddenly—but I don’t have a choice.

I’m a strong woman, but I can’t stay here and watch Tusk with his new family.

I can’t sit through a conversation where he tells me his kids are young, and their needs have to come first.

I already know that.

It just sucks in every conceivable way—because I thought I’d finally found my happily ever after in that man.

I let him into my heart far too fast.

That one’s on me. It’s my own fault that I’m hurting so badly.

And there’s nothing I can do to fix it. The only thing I can do is remove myself from the situation. Protect my child from feeling like an afterthought in their father’s life.

I don’t want my baby to grow up feeling like they’re on the outside looking in.

For their sake, I need to start over.

I know not telling Tusk he’s going to be a dad is bad, but if he is going to try and make a go of it with Gina again, he doesn’t need any more complications. It’s for the best all round that I just disappear.

When I’m finally ready to leave, I take my phone, place it under the tire of my car, and run over it a couple of times.

I’ve already bought a burner phone and transferred all my important information.

I even closed down all my social media accounts.

Destroying my phone is the last link to my old life.

Now, I just need to run like hell from my dark past—one more time.