Page 5 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Chapter Two

Grumbler

“You doing okay?” Gently, I place my hand against Mary’s face, wondering the same thing I do every day. How the fuck did I get so lucky to have this woman as my wife?

Nuzzling into me sleepily, she murmurs, “I’d be better if your son wasn’t using my bladder as a trampoline.”

I chuckle. “Need help getting up, Momma?”

“Nah. I’ll be okay for a few more minutes. You go and do your stuff, old man.”

“I’m your ol’ man, and don’t you forget it.” Leaning over, I give her a kiss, pausing to lay my hand against her swollen belly. The baby’s certainly lively this morning. My son. My heart feels full to bursting at what my life has become. A gorgeous woman by my side wasn’t something I’d ever expected. Add on the promise of a child in just a couple of months’ time, and everything’s just about perfect.

Or will be.

The pregnancy is going well, but nothing in life comes with a cast-iron guarantee. Both my age and Mary’s are against us. So far, we’re beating the odds, but there’s a long way to go before we hold our baby, and still time for things to go wrong.

“You get off to work, Grumbler.”

Assessing her, I see no adverse changes. Her pallor is what it should be. Her eyes, though bleary with sleep, are bright and alert. If I had the slightest fear something wasn’t right, I’d stay right here with her. It’s the same mental checks I go through each morning.

“For heaven’s sake.” Mary lightly punches my arm. “Stop worrying about me.”

Hmm. Perhaps I’m not so circumspect about my morning inspections as I thought I was. “Anything—”

“If anything changes and I don’t feel right, I’ll call you, okay?” She rolls her eyes.

It’s the same reassurance I need from her each morning so I can feel at peace during the day.

Swinging my legs out of bed, I rest my head in my hands.

When Mary had first gotten pregnant, it had come as a shock to us both. At forty-seven, she was pushing the limits of conceiving naturally. Despite being warned of what might lie ahead, we’d decided to let nature take its course. If the baby was meant to be, we’d be happy. If not, well, that was the way the cards would fall.

Despite being more tired than she had been during her first pregnancy eighteen years ago, Mary’s been happy and healthy, and all the checks show the baby is just where he should be.

That things could go wrong had been brought home to us recently after a chance meeting with Saffie.

Saffie’s seventeen years younger than Mary, yet she had to terminate her pregnancy when her baby had no chance of being born to live any kind of life. Being faced with the horror of what could go wrong has been hard on both Mary and me, forcing such problems into the forefront of our minds.

Saffie was devastated when she lost her baby, and who could blame her? But hearing about her from Niran, who’d witnessed her pain, had brought home exactly how hard it would be. However pragmatic you think yourself, however much you think your eyes have been wide open the whole time, means fuck all when it actually happens.

If Mary loses the baby, or fuck it, if I lose her, I don’t know how I’d survive.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Mary grumbles, as she manoeuvres herself over onto her other side. “Go to work.”

I pat her arm, then get to my feet, and in preparation to do as instructed, start my morning routine.

With Mary in the hospital, my brothers give me some leeway. It’s late in the morning when I’m walking into the auto-shop which I kind of manage on behalf of my club, the Satan’s Devils MC. I say kind of, because we’re more of a team, with no one actually being termed the boss. I suppose it’s my age that gives me the rank.

I bump fists with Snips and greet our civilian employees—all vets who we give a helping hand to by giving them a job, and who repay us in spades. Two of whom, Ross and Gibbs, are at the coffee machine.

“Grab one for me, will ya?” I request, walking past.

“Sure, Grumps.”

Grumps?“You fuckin’ what?” I spin around, only to see Ross doubling up and pointing his finger at Gibbs.

“Wasn’t me.” He singsongs like a child.

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