Page 22 of Serendipity

I choked on the powerlessness of the whole thing. Or maybe it was the tears streaming down my cheeks. Judas pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay, Dippy. Trust me. Trust us.” I smiled at his use of Solomon’s nickname. I let myself be weak for a moment longer, then pulled away.

I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of Goliath’s shirt. “Sorry. Hormones.” Yeah right. “So, now we all know what I am, what are you? Because you aren’t human.” He had too much presence. A few humans had that kind of presence, and they either ended up humanitarians or cult leaders. But for all four of them to have it, Judas and Cain, Solomon and even Goliath, they had to be a different race of being.

The question, as always, was what flavor of supernatural were they?

Judas gave me an enigmatic look and turned, sliding back onto his bike, giving me a great view of the way his denim jeans hugged his thighs. “Get on the bike, Serendipity.” The way he said it made goosebumps rise across my skin, not in fear, but in pure, unadulterated lust.

Still, I wasn’t that easily sidetracked. “Seriously. I showed you mine. You totally need to show me yours now. Fair’s fair.”

He just gave me a bemused look and, his eyes sliding at the seat behind him, before he pushed on his sunglasses and pulled up his skeleton face mask.

I huffed and slid onto the back of his bike. I had to let myself trust. It wasn’t just me anymore, and without help, both me and the baby were as good as dead.

WHEN WE PULLED into the parking lot of the Clubhouse, it was filled to the brim with stripjoint customers. Huge tattooed guys in black stood sentry on either side of the door to Apocalypse, the red neon sign giving them an otherworldly glow.

My heart leapt at the sight of Cain and Solomon’s bikes parked at the front of the garage, as well as the truck. Thankfully, Goliath wasn’t in it.

Thinking about Goliath made me realize I wasn’t going to be able to give him his shirt back anytime soon. Instead of hitting up a thrift store, we’d been arrested, so my wardrobe was still significantly lacking. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind me hanging onto it for a little longer.

When the bike stopped, my legs were dead and the baby was sitting on my bladder, making the threat of peeing my only pair of jeans a very real possibility.

I groaned in frustration, jiggling my legs, trying to get blood flow back. Judas slid off his bike, reaching over to grab me by the waist and haul me off the back. His huge hands spanned my waist, holding me upright until my legs felt steady enough to support my weight.

As soon as my muscles were back online though, I gripped my stomach with two hands and ran towards the Clubhouse doors. “I gotta pee,” I yelled over my shoulder, and Judas’ low chuckles chased me on the wind. I burst through the door, and every set of eyes turned to look at me. I looked desperately at Shots. “Bathroom?”

He pointed at a short dark hall off the main room, and I sprinted toward it. I almost peed myself at the sight of the toilet sign, like my bladder thoughtwelp, close enough!But I prayed to the gods of pelvic floor muscles and burst through the door. The first sign I was in the wrong bathroom was Trigger taking a piss in a urinal, before spinning in a magnificent golden arch of piss when the door slammed against the tiles.

“Fuck!” I yelled, hustling to the only toilet, although the size of his giant dick was enough to almost still my feet in amazement. But it wasn’t quite that impressive. “I’m so sorry! I have to go!” I said as I slammed the cubicle door, not even worrying about locking it as I struggled with the hair-tie holding together my jeans, that I couldn’t even see over the bulge of my damn belly. “Shit, shit, shit why won’t you come undone?”

Trigger had the gall to chuckle, before clearing his voice. “Do you, uh, need a hand or something?”

Pride made me want to say no. The fact I was barely hanging on had me yelling, “Yes!”

Trigger pushed gently through the door, quickly surveying the issue, his hands deftly flicking open my jeans.

I pushed him unceremoniously out of the cubicle. “Thank you!”

Few things in life are better than good sex in my opinion. Taking a too tight bra off after a long day. The miracle combination of perfectly flakey pastry, gooey rich chocolate and perfectly ripe strawberries, and the relief that comes after peeing when you’ve had to hold it for a long time. I let out an audible sigh of pleasure.

Trigger laughed, and it sounded like he was cleaning up. “You know, normally when I have women in the men’s bathroom making that noise, I’m in the stall too.”

I grinned to myself. “From what I just saw, I can believe it. But I gotta say Trigger, flirting is not overly sexy when you are cleaning up piss and I’m too pregnant to get my pants down when I need to.”

His laughter echoed off the wall, and I chuckled along. “I better get out of here before Cain realizes this bathroom was occupied and removes my appendages.” I heard the squeak of the door opening, and I wondered if it made that noise before I’d burst in. “Hey, Serendipity?”

“Yeah?”

“You pee like a racehorse,” he laughed, and left.

I screwed up my nose. “Well you’re hung like a racehorse,” I yelled back, realizing too late that that probably wasn’t an insult.

Finishing my business, I buckled myself back into my pants which was way easier when I wasn’t desperate, and washed my hands. There was only a tiny mirror in the bathroom, no bigger than a dinner plate, and I looked at myself.

I looked… alive.

Sure, I had a serious case of helmet hair, and my cheeks were just a bit too red. I picked a bug out of my teeth and gagged.

All in all though, I looked kind of content. It wasn’t a feeling I thought I would experience again so soon.

---