Page 3 of Scotch: Unraveled

“Can ya take them?” I ask. “I’ve got work.”

“Call in. Tell them you’ll be late. I’m pretty sure your bosses will understand.”

She only says that because all the men work for club-owned businesses. It makes things easier for the brothers, especially the tatted ones, since we never go anywhere without our cuts and the Lords have garnered a reputation for not putting up with shite. We tend to get railroaded when applying for jobs. That, and it helps us to stay employed when we get called away on runs or the club heads out of state for a rally.

“Well, aren’t you lucky we all showed up here today?” Elise shifts baby Gun on her hip to let Mollie hold her finger too. Unlike Caity who lives in a house on the compound, Elise and Trisha live in town with their men, though they spend plenty of nights here in the clubhouse on nights they can get a sitter. Each patched-in member gets a room if he wants one. Keeps the party going, they don’t have to worry about driving home drunk. Plus, it’s convenient when a brother gets an itch to fuck his old lady or one of the pieces or hot mamas. Real convenient.

“So ya’ll sit with them?” I ask, putting Mollie back down in her seat, though the little one keeps her hand gripped tightly around Elise’s finger.

“No,” Trisha says, not even attempting to sugarcoat her refusal for me. “The whole reason we showed up here is because we like to meet for coffee at Caity’s before we take the kids to daycare. But when I got to the Ellis abode, she was…indisposed.” Caity pops out a loud laugh, covering half her face with her hand. “So I came into the clubhouse to wait.”

“What about the babes?”

“I have to work, too.” My heart drops when Elise says that. Though,” she continues, and I think I’m about to get a boon from the universe when—bam!—she shuts me down. “I’m sure the boss will understand if I come in late, seeing as I’ll just give him a blow job when he gets home and all will be right with the world. I’ll take you to the store. Help you find some emergency provisions.”

Provisions? Are we taking care of babies or preparing for nuclear fallout? Nausea roils through my stomach and I haven’t even eaten today.

“They just opened up the new infant room,” Caity says.

“Yeah, that new teacher is so sweet,” Trish adds. “Because they have her now, the daycare is taking on new kids.”

Wait, “Ya mean they’ll turn away kids?” I ask.

“If they don’t have the room,” Trish answers. “Law says they’re only allowed so many babies per teacher. The spots’ll fill up fast.”

“Man, will they ever,” Caity agrees. “So if he’s going to get the girls in, he better do it today. I gave recommendations to two different infants’ parents yesterday. It’s a good daycare.”

“The best,” Elise says. “After we stop at the store, we’ll stop off there and hopefully get the girls signed up. Gun loves it there.”

With their coffee plans out the window, Trish and Caity give the girls cheek kisses, then each woman touches her cheek to mine, as if we ever interact this way. They pack up their babies and walk out the front of the club. Caity only after her man grabs hold of her wrist to spin her to him and mutters, “Lips.” Their inappropriate lip-lock done, he drops a kiss to his boy’s head. Lastly, he bends down to kiss his daughter, Jade. Sweet little thing, I think she’s in kindergarten now. Spitfire like her ma, Duke’ll be lucky he doesn’t end up in prison from killing any pubescent piss-wad who gets too frisky with her when she gets older. I never even saw her enter the clubhouse. He lets the three of them go. All the while holding my new dau—er—Macie.

While I hook Mollie up in her restraints, Duke hooks up Macie.

“Yer in good hands,” he says as he crooks his finger and uses it to tickle under the lass’s chin. Then he clomps off into his office.

Whose reality did I fall into?

“Come on.” Elise snaps me from my baby stupor. “Let’s get going.”

“Where am I supposed to put them? I only have my bike.”

“We can carpool today, but you’re going to have to sort this out. Babies can’t ride on the back of your bike.”

Like I didn’t know that.

She drives us down the mountain into town and turns into the Wally-World parking lot. I’m not sure where that term came from, but everyone here calls it that.

The carts are extra wide and Elise shows me how to hook the car seats up safely. Then we shop. It’s an athletic event. Diapers. Formula. Bottles. Burp cloths? What the hell do I do with a burp cloth? Wipes. Diaper rash ointment. Blankets. Booties. Sleepers.

“Laundry soap for sensitive baby skin?” I read the side of the bottle.

Elise chuckles, although she doesn’t answer me, too busy dropping more outfits than they’ll probably ever wear in the cart. I mean, how much clothing do the wee tots need? They’re just babies, for Christ’s sake. I make bank at the shipping company but looking at the price of the formula, I think I might have to take on a second job to pay for this shite. Somewhere there’s a CEO laughing his or her fool head off at my pain while checking their bank balance.

“There,” she says. Her eyes have glazed over with a primal exuberance of a huntress winning the hunt. She’s a bit scary. “This should do you for a few days.”

Excuse me? Afewdays?

But before we leave the baby department, she hefts another industrial-sized box of diapers into the cart. And lastly, she grabs a black leather diaper bag off the hook as we pass. It’s similar to the one I’ve seen Duke haul around.

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