Page 2 of Stone
“Yeah, but you and Trigger have been together since you were ten,” Tank says, “He fucked Elsie for four months before she got too clingy.”
Ashley shrugs and reminds us, “She’s a girl, emotions she probably claimed that wouldn’t get involved most likely did, and she’s probably acting desperate seeing Stone sleep with other girls. That and she has always been very territorial of you boys, eyeing that leather,” she looks behind me then winces and murmurs, “Incoming,” and Trigger curses, “Fucking hell, she has the biggest grin on her face.”
“Yeah, probably because she knows I’ll have to marry her if she can prove she is indeed pregnant,” I snap before I turn around and come face to face with my ex fuck whose big ass grin she had is gone and replaced with unshed tears.
“She should be in drama class,” I hear Ashley whisper, and I try not to smirk as the boys snort.
I tense as Elsie holds up a pregnancy test in front of everyone in the packed corridor trying to get the gossip, to see if it is true and by the plus sign she’s proudly showing off while trying to act scared it’s true.
I know she could well have slept with someone else, that the baby, if there is one, is not mine. The rub is Elsie is part of a wealthy family that’s in the oil business, that the club has been on good terms with for years, and her dad is friends with mine.
My jaw ticks as she chokes, “I’m pregnant, Cage,” and Trigger quickly states, “It’s Stone, Elsie, be respectful, yeah.”
She drops the act for just a second and snaps, “I’m carrying his child! And yourwifecalls you your legal name,” before looking scared again.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by me or my boys how she saidwife.
“I’ve been with mywifefor eight years, and he hasn’t given you permission to call him his legal name, so pack that shit in,” he snaps back, and I fist my hands at my side.
I’ve had the name Stone for years, and like fuck is this woman going to call me anything different, even when we are married.
The reality hits me, and I feel my face pale a little.
Fuck me, I’m going to have to marry her for the sake of the club, for the sake of my father.
Fuck, my mama is going to kill me.
Rose – Twelve Years Old
I gently chew my bottom lip as I watch the dark brown door before me and tap my foot with impatience.
I have a math quiz to study for and an English essay about what I want to do when I’m older to write. And of course the preschool kids out late. Even though Mama is standing right next to me with my best friend Donna, I promised my little sister Kimberly who is only four that I would be here when she gets out.
In my defense, I hadn’t been given my assignments when I promised her so my frustration is warranted, but still, I won’t leave. I won’t hurt her or break my promise to her, especially considering she is the reason why I chose what I want to do when I’m older. Why my English assignment will be easy for me.
My little sister was born with a heart condition that I can’t pronounce, but it’s something to do with a hole in the heart. Mama and Daddy didn’t know, it was never picked up during Mama’s pregnancy or when my sister was born, and for a whole year, we had no idea. She’s lucky to be alive.
I was nine years old when I went to wake her from her nap and found her not breathing in her crib.
I screamed for my mama and watched helplessly as Daddy gave her CPR, and I knew then and there I wanted to help kids just like my little sister, to save them.
“Stop fidgeting,” Donna giggles, “She’ll be out soon, and the homework doesn’t have to be in until next week.”
I raise a brow at her and ask, “And what about the math quiz tomorrow?”
Her blue eyes widen in shock as her mouth hangs open before she gasps, “We do not have a quiz tomorrow!” in instant denial.
“We do,” I reply with a nod and remind her, “Ms. Drake was explaining about the quiz when you were daydreaming about the MC boys in twelfth grade.”
She winces as Mama snorts, “They’re a little old for you, don’t you think, Donna?”
She scrunches her nose up and admits, “Maybe,” before sighing, “but Ace, he is soooo pretty with his black hair and blue eye.”
Mama grins, seeing the dreamy look in my best friend's eyes, while I shake my head.
“Yeah, but Selena in 5th grade has made it perfectly clear he is hers and no one can look at him,” I remind her.
Mama chuckles and asks, “A ten-year-old has staked a claim on someone, a brother at that?”
