I want to laugh, I really do, but I know that she would turn that glare at me. Pregnant women can be downright scary.
“See! I’m turning into Ella… I just knew that it was going to happen someday,” she says with her eyes welling with tears.
“And now I don’t have skittles…” she whispers.
“Did somebody say skittles?” I hear a deep voice say and I turn around to see Kid walk into the room with the biggest bag of skittles I have ever seen.
He walks over to Krista, and you could swear that her eyes light up like he just bought her diamonds or something.
“You are the best!” she says happily grabbing the bag from him and ripping it open in seconds.
The other women nod in agreement. “It’s like Kid can read our minds or something. He is always there when we need something,” Sophie says.
“How does he always know?” Olivia whispers pretty loudly, and I see Kid fighting back a smile.
“I used to help take care of my grandma and I learned early on to anticipate what she would need when it came to food,” Kid says, and I can tell the subject upsets him.
He came to the club when he was sixteen and now he’s twenty-three. He was the youngest member to be patched in. When he was found digging in the dumpster of the alley by “Hole in the Wall Diner,” Prez took him in.
The women probably don’t know that’s how he came to be a part of the club, but he had ran away from home after his grandmother died. I don’t know the full story myself; just enough to know that’s why he was living on the streets and scrounging for food.
“That’s so sweet,” Olivia says with a smile and Kid blushes. He clears his throat awkwardly and flees the room as fast as he can.
I turn away from the women when they all start talking pregnancy stories, and find my father staring at me standing in the doorway of the room.
I automatically don’t like the look on his face.
He looks like he’s hurting for me; pity. I don’t need it. Doesn’t anyone realize that it doesn’t actually help when people look at you that way? It makes you feel worse.
“Prez,” I say. He tries to smile at me, but I know that it’s forced.
“How you doing, son?” he says in a low voice. His voice always brought me comfort growing up. He was this big protector of our family. There were enemies of the club who tried to come after us, but he was always there to save us.
When I had went through my teen years, he had been there to give me the kick in the ass I needed when I thought that I was nothing but a cocky shit who thought he was tough.
I thought that being the son of the president of the Vicious Snakes was the best thing ever, and that I would automatically be patched into the club and no one could hurt me.
Fuck, was I wrong.
I prospected the club and had to prove myself like everybody else.
The worst of it came when I talked back to my mom thinking that I was all that. My father was a great dad, there is no doubt about that, but no one messes with Lily Knight and gets away with it.
My mom had found me with a girl in my room while my dad was at Church. I said some nasty things to her that I still wish I hadn’t.
I made my fucking mother cry. Damn, if that wasn’t the shittiest feeling I had felt.
My dad came home and my mom was in their room and, as soon as he opened the door and heard her sniffles, I fucking froze.
I was standing at the end of the hallway and my father turned his head. If looks could fucking kill. I knew I had guilt written all over me. He only muttered the word “stay,” but I heard it as clear as fucking day.
I had to do the shittiest chores in the house until my dad was satisfied. I was to clean the house until it was spotless, and then the clubhouse. Once that was all done, I had to publicly apologize to my mom and admit that I was a momma’s boy. I had a brother on me whenever my parents weren’t around and, trust me, my dad did everything he could to put a damper of my so-called sex life. I think it was a year before a girl would come near me because of the embarrassing conversations he would randomly come up with in front of them.
All of that was fine. It was the hurt look on my mother’s face that still never left me to this day.
“What do you think?” I mutter. There is no point in trying to lie to him.
He nods his head slowly. “I understand that today will be a tough day, but it will do you some good to be with family.”
I nod my head, but I don’t know if I really agree. What I want is a stiff drink and to spend this whole day numb.
As soon as that thought crosses my head, I walk over to the bar and single the prospect for a shot.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” my dad asks.
“Are you going to stop me?” I ask and raise an eyebrow at him.
He blows out a slow breath. “No. But you can’t keep hiding from this. That’s not going to help and I know you know that, son.”
“I just need to today. I feel like I can barely breathe,” I say lowly and I hear a deep sigh.
“Alright son. This ain’t going to last forever. Step out of line
