Freak and I exchange amused glances. Then my man directs me to take a seat at the table, and soon he plates up eggs, bacon and toast. I have to pinch myself that I’m not having a wonderful dream, and that soon I’ll wake up to find myself back at the clubhouse, ready to drag myself out of bed, dress in barely there clothes and cook for the men, while hoping one day the enforcer might notice me.
“Mom?Mom!”
I shake myself. “Sorry, k…Ace. What were you saying?
“I was telling you I’m going with Dad this morning. He’s dropping me off at Short’s house. Trip’s got a new game and wants me to help him play it.” He pauses, then adds, “He spoke to me on the phone himself.”
“He what?” I grin broadly at Freak, who simply nods, realising my question is rhetorical, I’d heard what he said. Trip’s communication skills are improving, but there are still some things that he finds difficult. Only last week, Bronwyn had said he didn’t like the phone as he couldn’t see who he was speaking too, but now it seems that’s changed. The way that child has come on in leaps and bounds is heartwarming.
“I’m sorry if you had plans for us.”
“No, you go, Ace. If Trip’s taken this huge step, it must mean a lot to him.” My heart swells with pride that Ace doesn’t mind helping out a much younger child. From what I’ve seen of the genetics on his mother’s side, that he’s turned out so well, must all be down to Freak.
Another reason, perhaps, to try to have Freak’s baby. Definitely food for thought.
We finish breakfast. Freak picks up his cut – as he’s taking Ace, he won’t wear it in the truck. Ace does often ride behind him, but not today for some reason. Then Ace busies abouttrying to find the shit he wants to take, and, showing he’s a true male, can’t find half of it. Once I’ve found his phone for him, they’re ready to leave, he comes down the stairs carrying one of his consoles. Mystery as to why Freak’s taking the truck, solved.
I get a kiss from both, then they go out the front door, leaving me alone.
Instead of the house feeling empty, I’m pleased they’ve both gone. I hadn’t had a chance to do it yesterday after the trouble at the coffee shop, but today I plan to go into town and organise Ace’s birthday cake. As I shower, dress and get ready, I wonder whether, having left it this late, I’ll have to go for something plain that they’ve got on hand. Ideally, I’d like something special, a cake shaped like a laptop. That would suit Ace down to a T.
When I was a club girl, if I’d ever needed transport, I’d had the use of one of the club’s SUVs. Freak’s said he’s going to get a car for me, but, feeling guilty that he’s spending money on me, I objected and that hasn’t happened yet. And even if he’d left his truck here, I admit I don’t like driving it, and don’t unless I have to. Like the man himself, it’s huge.
So I call up an Uber. My ride’s only fifteen minutes away. I just have time to slap on a little makeup, then gather my purse, phone, and wallet.
As I go out on the porch to wait, I notice the sky’s grown dark, and is ominously yellow. The wind blows up, sending dust swirling, so I hurry back to the door to wait inside. My ride’s a little late, not unexpected. By the time it arrives, the haboob has passed and the rain’s now coming down in sheets. I grab my rain jacket, pull up my hood, and run to the car.
Our house is closer to the clubhouse than it is to town. I give the friendly, but not particularly talkative, driver the bakery's address where I want to be dropped off, then settle back in my seat, planning my morning. After I’ve got the cake organised, I’llhave a look around the shops to see if I can get a present for Ace. Fuck knows what. The kid doesn’t seem to want for anything. But, maybe a t-shirt? I’ll have to take a look.
“Sorry, ma’am. It’s going to take a while.”
Snapping out of my reverie, I glance up through the windscreen. Water is cascading across the road in front of us, far too deep and fast running for anyone but an idiot to attempt to cross. One of the washes that Arizona is plagued with. I’m not surprised he’s not attempting to cross it. The state has a literal stupid motorist’s law that renders insurance invalid if someone attempts to get through the fast-flowing water and fucks up their car.
As the radio is turned up, and my driver settles in to wait, I sit back, a secret smile curving my lips as I think of how Pippa would feel about being held up like this. One of the things you quickly learn in this state is patience.
I spend the time thinking about birthday cakes and presents until the storm ends, the sun comes out, and the wash subsides to a trickle.
The car starts moving again, and it seems no time at all until we’re pulling up outside the bakery. I gather my purse and the coat I no longer need, and prepare to get out.
“That’s strange,” the driver murmurs.
Unsure whether he’s talking to me or not, I ask, politely, “What?”
He shakes himself. “Oh, nothing. But the car that’s been following me almost since I picked you up has just drawn into a parking bay a little ways up the street.”
But I’m already eyeing up the cakes on display in the window. Strange cars have nothing to do with me, so I open the door, thank him for the ride, and quickly proceed into the shop.
Behind the counter is a pleasant middle-aged woman, who I soon find can’t do enough for me. A cake in two weeks?No bother. In the shape of an open laptop? Of course. Coding running across the screen? Yes, doable, if I can send her an example. I’ll have to ask Pippa for help, but I’m sure she’ll be able to provide something. When she asks what kind of cake Ace prefers, I have to think for a moment. I go for a sponge with buttercream and strawberry filling, thinking with that I can’t go far wrong.
Having placed the order, and paid the deposit, I leave, the bell jangling over the door as I exit. There’s a spring in my step as I feel I’ve accomplished something that will make Ace’s birthday special. I’ll have to tell Freak, I’m sure he’ll be pleased. And when my man’s happy, it usually means I get an orgasm. Double win, huh?
I’ve taken perhaps a couple of dozen steps along the sidewalk, when I’m suddenly confronted by a male body. Thinking I’ve been daydreaming and not watching where I’m going, I open my mouth to apologise, then my eyes land on the man who’s in front of me.
“Piero?” I must still be asleep, must have dropped into a nightmare. Because he can’t be here. He can’t be real.
“It’s taken me five long years to find you. Now, dear wife, you’re coming with me.”
I’m not. He goes to grab me. Regretting I never bothered to learn self-defence, I try to improvise. I kick out at him, but he’s prepared and easily evades my puny attempt, punching me in the head and dazing me. He takes the opportunity to rip my purse off my shoulder, throw it to the ground, then eyeing my phone as it drops out, stomps on it. A car draws up alongside, and he opens the back door and starts pushing me in. Screaming for help, I brace myself and try everything I can not to be forced in, but he lets me feel his fist again, this time in my kidneys. Gasping with pain, he shoves me onto the back seat.
