Page 25 of Cougar

“Oh, you poor little girl. It’s obvious you’re new around here. What you think to be the mere opinions of others happen to be fact in the eyes of ninety-nine percent of the people here. You are setting your child up to be ostracized. Or should I say your son? Which, in my opinion, makes it even worse. People around here are going to think you are breeding more bikers to take over whatever business you guys think you are running around here.” Finally, her facade cracks a little, and her eyes flare with judgement and distance.

Fuck. This. Cunt.

I see myself jumping over this table and clawing her eyes out or ripping her perfectly coiffed hair from the roots. Or should I grab the blade from my pocket and scalp her? Oh, I could carve the letters N.O.M.C into her forehead and brand her for everyone to see. I bet her ass won’t look so pretty after that.

I have to release my coffee cup because my hands are starting to cave in the sides and spilling its contents on the table. Once my hands are down at my sides, I touch the switchblade in my pocket. I’m not sure if it’s hormonal rage, mama instincts, or this new deep hatred coursing through me or a new, deep hatred for a woman trying to talk me out of having my baby. And she thinks she’ll succeed by putting down my family. My palm itches. I make the small movement to slide my hand into my pocket, twisting the handle over and over. I look for the perfect time to pounce over the table and bring forth my bloody fantasy.

The chimes of the main door startle me, officially breaking my gruesome train of thought. I put my focus on the front of the shop and see an officer walk up to the counter. A shadow comes across my table, and I turn my gaze to the man outside talking on his cell phone. I’ve seen him walk by a few times. I hadn’t thought anything of it before, as Main Street is so small, but now, I start to wonder.

The Stepford Wife calls out to the officer who came in, drawing his attention away from waiting for his order. As he approaches us, he slides his phone into his pocket.

“Officer Mallard. Have you met the new mother-to-be in town? This is Hank and Abilene’s little girl.” Her voice is so fake and sugary I’m positive I will develop gestational diabetes.

“I haven’t had the honor.” The officer smiles and presents his hand. I look from it to him and back to the bitch sitting across from me. Do they really think I am going to play nice with a cop she knows? She is more delusional than I first thought, and this guy isn’t winning any favors.

“Now, now, Aletta James. You tell me your parents taught you manners—”

“—I haven’t told you shit about what I’ve been taught,” I sneer at her. Tired of her sitting here thinking she has a right to be in my space and talk to me about my family.

She inhales and proceeds to continue as if I hadn’t said anything. “That they were such great people. Didn’t they teach you how to respect men in authoritative roles? Or is that not allowed due to your club affiliation?” Her tone is rife with condescension. The switchblade in my hand is begging to be pulled out of my pocket and stabbed right into her eye.

Before I can make a comment or even lunge myself at either of them, Mallard’s name gets called for his coffee. He gives this woman a kind smile and heads back to the counter. Coffee and a bag in hand, he takes a seat at the table behind us. Glancing back, I see him sipping and watching the world go by. The exact thing that I wanted to do before this woman from hell joined me. Maybe I should just head back to the garage. I need to get away from this woman who knows mine and my parents’ names.

And that’s when it clicks.

She knows the gender of my baby. We haven’t told anyone but family. John had told me what he’d learned in church shortly after we announced the baby is a boy.

“I learned something pretty neat today,” he smiles at me.

“Oh, yeah? What is it? Can you even tell me? After all, you did just leave church.”

He laughs and pulls me in close, kissing me on top of my head. “Yes, I can tell you. Our son is the first boy born into the Nameless Order. All of the kids have been adopted or born girls. He’s already a legacy, and he hasn’t even been born yet.”

I pull myself from the memory, attempting to make myself focus on the issue that is sitting right in front of me. She knows things about me that she shouldn’t, especially when it comes to my son.

The club holds all who know about the baby. My mind starts going a million miles a minute.

Is there a leak in the club? Or is this some strange woman who thinks sleeping with a brother means she is privy to club activities and knowledge? Is she a jilted club whore who cleaned herself up and is now trying to take from the club and remove people? The door’s bell again shakes me from these spiraling thoughts of dissension in the club that I trust my father and man’s life to.

“Birdie? You okay?” John strides over to me, looking me over with his eyes, and then his sharp gaze cuts to her.

“Well, if it isn’t the old lady killer of Wyman, Colorado.” She slides her greasy ass out of her chair and stands up to John. She’s trying to flirt, but all I see is the look of disgust on his face.

“Bonnie,” he growls, “is there a need for you to be talking to my woman?” I have never heard his voice this cold.

“Hmph. Well, Cougar, I was simply talking to her about her choices. She shouldn’t be drinking coffee. It’s bad for the baby.”

“I’m trying to see where your opinion matters in this situation.”

“Please,” she waves her hand, “I know more about keeping children healthy and in peak condition than you. A child such as yourself shouldn’t be allowed to have children.”

This bitch.

“I don’t know where you get off spouting the shit you do but listen closely. Aletta and I are not children. We are perfectly capable of raising our child, and if we wanted the opinion of garbage, we’d go ask a trashcan. Stay the fuck away from Aletta. Our kid doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, Cougar, we’ll see about that.”

“Is that a threat?” he’s practically screaming at her at this point. I grab his hand, attempting to pull him back toward me. I glance behind me and see that Mallard isn’t doing anything to stop this. He’s…. He’s on his fucking phone. What is going on in this town?

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