Page 94 of Lady Sings the Blues

26.

Elise

Standing in the bathroom, my legs lean against the vanity while I stare into the mirror trying to figure out what to do with the rat’s nest my hair has become. A couple thoughts hit me. What started out as lunch for Beau and I turned into two hours of food and conversation with several of his brothers and Trish had joined us. Trish who indeed got on Sneak’s shit telling him in no uncertain terms in front of God and everybody that since I was now with child, he’d better get to work knocking her up as well. My hand automatically goes to rub my yet nonexistent belly with that thought.

Part of me wants this to be just us. For me and Beau alone to give the club a legacy, the prince or princess of the Brimstone Lords. But then, there’s another part which feels like our kid having other kids to grow up around would be a good thing. A really good thing.

And as I think about it, forget about a shot of guilt, I get hit with a full forty ounce bottle of guilt for thinking happy thoughts when my friend Crass has been placed in a medically induced coma fighting for his life because he promised to protect mine. And I can’t even go up to see him. Why is my life worth more than his? I don’t have the answer to that except the brothers, including Crass, all think I am.

Then there’s Livvy. My friend. My sister from another mister who was kidnapped and thrown inside a wooden box which had been nailed shut, secured around the perimeter via a metal chain, and lowered into the frigid water of Lake Michigan. The seals on the box were sufficient to keep the air pressure intact enough to withstand the box filling up with water immediately, but she would have drown if we hadn’t found her.

She’d run out of air in those last split seconds. She had to hold her breath. My friend. My sister from another mister who recuperates in Chaos’s bed at this moment. Who still hasn’t left his room. Who hasn’t even told Chaos if she’s willing to talk with me. And I have no one to blame but myself.

I started this.

Whatever reason Houdini has to hate me, Beau or the memory of Logan, I started it the day I picked Logan Hollister. Hadley is dead. Liv could have died. Crass still might. My friends suffer needlessly, dragged into our mess because I had a crush on a cute boy.

My eyes close to the sting of tears forming in them. But strong arms wrap around my waist, a nip to my shoulder and a kiss to my jaw. My eyes open to my badass biker resting his chin on the spot on my shoulder he’d just nipped. His eyes catch mine, twinkling with his love for me. So I push back into him, intent to soak up the warmth he radiates, and hope the push and the newly formed twinkle in my eyes shows him the same.

“Carver got ordained,” he says.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Carver. Got ordained. He went online, Church of Purple Snowflakes or something. I don’t know, all I know is it’s legal for him to marry us. And before you bust my balls, hear me out.”

I nod subtly.

“Right.First. We were plannin’ on gettin’ hitched anyway, and we were plannin’ on sooner than later until Houdini struck again. Now that we’re havin’ a baby, it needs to be sooner because when I take you to your doctor appointments it’s as your husband. Saw the ultrasound picture you’d stuffed behind the strap of your bra. Fell out when I was takin’ it off you. Didn’t know what it was, fell face down. I got distracted. Just picked it up, looked at it.”

I reach up behind me to comb my fingers through his peanut butter locks. No bun, no hairband to encumber my movements. “I’d forgotten I stuffed it there, what with the kidnappings and all. I didn’t want Crass to see it because I didn’t want him to know before you.”

“’Preciate it. What I don’t appreciate, it said Baby Manning.” In a sudden movement he flips me around and sets my bottom on vanity, then gently forces my chin up so he has my attention. “That baby, my baby, is a Hollister. Period. We’re a family. A unit. Won’t be long before we’re back in our home. Anyone livin’ under my roof lives there with the last name Hollister. Caveman, I know. You’ll deal. With me so far?”

Again I nod. Less subtly, as the mood calls for.

“Good. The next, well, the next is for you and me, but also for the boys, for Liv. For Tommy and Maryanne, and anyone connected with the club. We’ve had a rough patch. Time for some fun, to let off some steam. With Houdini still on the prowl. With Crass’s condition. With Livvy in kind of a bad place in her head, we all need a reason to celebrate. You agreein’ to a wedding is you givin’ that to them, all of ’em. Think you got it in you to give ’em that?”

I might have given him shit about the Hollister name. I’m still me, I have to give him shit on principle alone, but what he said, about giving them a reason to celebrate? After everything they’ve done for me…

“Okay,” I kind of mumble.

“Promise baby girl, it’ll be the pig roast of all pig roasts. Since the compound’ll be swarmin’ with brothers, won’t be a safer place for you on the planet. Maryanne’s comin’ by the club to help you plan seein’ it’s not safe for you to leave without an escort, and the boys are pretty busy right now. It’s the best way.”

A couple hours later Maryanne showed up bearing gourmet coffees from the little coffee shop downtown and a bottle of alcohol-free sparkling wine to celebrate my good news. News Beau had clearly shared, because I hadn’t had the chance to thus far. And she let her displeasure on that known in no uncertain terms.

“Can’t believe it’s finally happening.” Maryanne sits at the pool table we’d turned into wedding planning central with me. We’ve got Beau’s laptop open creating custom biker chic invitations. He wanted those silhouettes of naked chicks sitting, leaning on their arms behind them, one knee bent, one high-heeled leg stretched out long in front of her. The kind you see as decals on the back of pickup trucks.

We nixed that idea pretty quickly. None of the boys have a clue to the design we do come up with. We even found a coupon online for forty percent off the first order which is great seeing as they’re custom, and we have to order two hundred of them.

All our badass bikers should be pleasantly surprised because I know they’re thinking tuxedos, tulle, and yards of pink and cream. Bump that. I’m a Brimstone Lady. So much so that Mar and I keep going, page after page, until we find the bones of the dress I’ve been searching for on a site which does custom orders.

“Maryanne, I want you to be my matron of honor. You and Trish and Liv standing up with me. That is if Liv’ll do it.”

“She will. Give her time, it had to really freak her out.”

“Give who time?” We both turn our heads.Livvy.Always beautiful Livvy stands at the mouth of the hallway to the back rooms wearing one of Chaos’s Lord’s T-shirts knotted at the hip to show off her perfect figure and a pair of denim cutoffs, faded with a fine layer of fringe around the legs and at the pockets. It’s the first she’s ventured out since her rescue.

“How are you?” I ask in lieu of a response.

---