Page 13 of Friar
I watched her hands shake as she gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white against skin already too pale.The girl looked like she might pass out or puke again at any moment.The church girl -- Cheri.Her name was Cheri.I remembered that much from that night, though other details remained blurred by whiskey and time.What I did remember, with uncomfortable clarity now, was her beneath me in the back room, her eager inexperience, my hands in her hair.Fuck.Ten weeks ago.The timing fit.I rubbed a hand over my face, the reality of the situation settling like a weight across my shoulders.
“You know what, you’re in no condition to drive,” I said, leaning down to her window.“Let’s get you in my truck.We can come back for your stuff later.”
She looked up at me, those wide eyes red-rimmed and desperate.“I can’t leave my things.It’s everything I own.”
“They’ll be fine in the parking lot for now.Club’s got security cameras.”I opened her door, offering my hand.“Come on.You look like you’re about to fall over.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her trembling hand in mine.It felt small and cold, fragile enough that I worried about gripping too hard.I helped her out, steadying her when she swayed slightly on her feet.Up close, the exhaustion on her face was even more apparent -- dark circles under her eyes, skin sallow, lips cracked from dehydration or maybe from crying.
“My truck’s over there,” I said, nodding toward the black Silverado parked near the clubhouse entrance.I kept my hand at the small of her back as we walked, ready to catch her if she stumbled.She moved like someone sleepwalking, each step mechanical and uncertain.
The truck was hot from sitting in the sun, and I cranked the AC as soon as we got in.She sat stiffly in the passenger seat, hands folded in her lap, shoulders hunched forward like she was trying to make herself smaller.Like she was bracing for a blow.
“You need water,” I said, reaching behind the seat for the package I hadn’t taken home yet.I ripped into it and pulled out a bottle.“Small sips.”
She took it with a murmured thanks, her throat working as she swallowed.I watched her from the corner of my eye as I backed out of the parking space, noting the way her hands still trembled, the careful way she held herself.Church girl looked broken, and something about that pulled at a place inside me I usually kept locked down tight.
We drove in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the blast of the air conditioning.Questions crowded my mind, fighting to be asked first.I settled on the most pressing.
“You said it might be me, Nugget, or Nigel.”I kept my voice neutral, eyes on the road.“No one else?”
She shook her head, her gaze fixed on the water bottle in her lap.“No.There’s been no one else.Ever.”
That last word hung in the air between us.Ever.It confirmed what I’d suspected that night -- her innocence, her inexperience.The memory made something twist uncomfortably in my gut.She’d been a virgin, and I’d been too drunk, too caught up in the moment to realize it until it was too late.
“And you’re sure about the pregnancy?Taken a test?”
“Three of them.”Her voice was barely above a whisper.“All positive.That’s how my aunt found out.She found one of the tests.”
I nodded, processing this.My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I drove down the road that would take us to my place farther inside the compound.“And you’re… keeping it?”I asked carefully.
She was quiet for so long I thought she might not answer.When she did, her voice was small but firm.“Yes.I couldn’t… I can’t…”
“Okay.”I didn’t need her to finish that thought.Some things were clear without being spelled out.“No judgment here either way.Just need to know what we’re dealing with.”
I kept my gaze on the road, but my mind was all over the place.What the hell was I doing?I didn’t know a damn thing about babies, or women like this one.
“That night,” I said, the words feeling awkward in my mouth.“At the clubhouse.You were with all three of us?Separately?”
Her cheeks flushed deep red, her gaze dropping to her hands.“Yes,” she whispered.“I don’t remember everything clearly.I was… I’d never drunk before.Never done any of that before.”
I remembered her stumbling down that hallway with me, eager and laughing, her lips sweet with some fruity cocktail Nigel had been feeding her all night.Remembered Nugget earlier, his hands all over her at the pool table, teaching her to play in a way that had nothing to do with the game.
“So you don’t know which one of us…” I let the question trail off.
“No.”She raised her eyes to me finally, guilt and fear swimming in their depths.“I’m sorry.I know that makes everything worse.”
I didn’t respond right away, focusing on the turn into my driveway.My mind was racing, trying to process everything, to come up with a plan.Beast would need to know -- club business, especially with something that involved a Prospect like Nigel.Nugget would need to be told too.Paternity tests would have to be arranged.But all that could wait until the girl beside me didn’t look like she might shatter at the slightest pressure.
“We’re here,” I said, pulling up to my single-story house.It wasn’t much -- a three-bedroom ranch-style place with a wide front porch and a detached garage where I worked on bikes when I wasn’t at the clubhouse.The yard was simple, mostly grass with a few trees providing shade.No landscaping to speak of, nothing fancy.Just a place to live.
Cheri looked out the window, taking in the property with tired eyes.“It’s nice,” she said softly.“Peaceful.”
“It’s quiet,” I agreed, cutting the engine.
I helped her out of the truck, noting how she swayed slightly on her feet, this girl carrying a baby that might be mine.The thought sent a jolt through me -- a child.My child, maybe.The reality of it hadn’t fully sunk in yet.
The front door opened onto the living room -- plain, functional, but clean.A leather couch faced a decent-sized TV, a coffee table between them holding a few motorcycle magazines and a remote.The walls were a neutral beige, decorated with only a few framed vintage motorcycle posters and a club photo.
