6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Aleko

T he prickling from the tiny shards of glass lodged into my shoulder and knees doesn’t even begin to compare to the agony that is etched over Mackenzie’s beautiful face. I can see it clear as day and feel it like it’s my own. The way her brows slant into each other and the tense set of her jaw every time her muscles clench; how she slams her lids closed for four to five excruciating moments at a time; worst of all is her fist gripping the cotton of my Henley like she’s trying to transfer every one of her feelings onto it. Onto me, maybe. And I would take them. I would gladly suffer in her place because not being able to do fuck all for her is killing me.

Looking down on her as she shakes and grunts in my arms, I’m fighting my instinct to just carry her off into a cave and slay every visible and imaginary demon that would ever dare hurt her. That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? I have nothing to slay, nothing to hit or torture. There’s absolutely nothing I can do to help her except be there.

The truth is, I’m completely out of my element here. I’m useless. And worse than that, I’m incapable of understanding what exactly she’s going through. But I do know this: she’s hurting. Therefore, so am I.

As gently as I can, I place her down on the couch then seat myself at one end and rest her head on my thigh while Spencer puts on his EMT face and does the best he can. His knowledge, though limited, is greater than any of ours, and I know my Cherry trusts him with her life. The fact that a man that is not me is able to see the intimacy of her body, the place where her two greatest traumas took and are taking place, hurts me more than any fight or bullet or knife wound ever has. But I can’t let my insecurities, or the fact that every inch of this woman belongs to me, affect me. This is about much more than me.

In fact, it’s not even about me at all.

This is about Mackenzie. It’s about the loss and the guilt she’ll inevitably feel when the fog clears and the reality of our situation sinks in. It’s about being there for her. By putting aside my ridiculous thoughts, I’m doing just that.

“She needs to go to the hospital. Right now. I don’t care what she says…her life is more important than anything else.” On my lap, my Cherry is shaking her head slowly, refusing Spencer’s decision.

“And you can’t do what needs to be done?” I ask this hoping maybe I can get what Mackenzie needs and also respect her wishes. If that’s not possible, well, her health is my priority.

“Nah, man. I’m not trained for this. She’s around sixteen weeks along, she needs a D and E and to do that, I’d need a fuckload of equipment. Aleko…I can’t do this here. If she gets an infection, the consequences would be catastrophic.” At Spencer’s words, Mackenzie groans from the pain and my decision is made.

“Darlene, look in her bedroom. She should have a red wig in there.” Fuck, I hope she does or else this is going to get worse than anything else. I turn to yell out to the brothers, but when I look over my shoulder, they’re all there waiting with solemn expressions on their faces.

They know how much this baby means—fuck, meant—to me. How much Mackenzie already loved him or her. They knew this was a new beginning for us, even if my Cherry pie was being a stubborn brat about it.

Fuck it, we may be losing the baby but I’ll be damned if I’m losing the love of my life, too.

“Bear, call Doc and tell him we’re coming in. He’ll know how to make sure her fake identity isn’t revealed at the hospital. Too many fucking people know her from before. She can’t get recognized.”

“On it!” From my periphery, I see my brother run out of the cabin and notice the fucking door is open. Guess the whole bashing through the window was a bit overkill, but at that moment, the only thing I could understand was that Mackenzie was suffering so logic didn’t even register.

“Got it!”

My heart rate speeds up at the idea one fucking thing is going right on this fucked up night.

“Thanks, Darlene.” When my eyes meet Spencer’s, we both nod. It’s time to go. “I’ll carry her to your car, it’s more comfortable than Vanessa’s truck.”

Spence nods, draping a sheet over Mackenzie, giving back her privacy.

“Y’all can meet us there. The closest is Rockford General,” Spencer yells out as he runs to his car, I’m guessing to open the back and make space for us.

“Doc is all good, Brother. He said to go through the ER, he’ll be waiting there with a wheelchair.” I scoff at Bear’s words. I’d like to see any motherfucker try to take her out of my arms and away from me. “I see that look, Psycho, but keep in mind…if you make a scene, shit’s gonna get real and they’ll be paying more attention to you. And her.” This time, I growl because fuck him and fuck his logic.

“We’ll see.” My words are final and no one else tries to tell me what to do.

“Take care of our girl, Psycho. Do whatever you need to do to get her back to the compound. We’ve all got you.”

I nod at Prez but don’t have a chance to answer before I hear Darlene tell him that she’ll have their things ready to go back. Seems my mother-in-law didn’t want to be here any more than I wanted them here.

Once we’re in the back of Spencer’s fancy car, I sit back, keeping Mackenzie curled up in my arms, and wrap the seat belt around the two of us. It’s not comfortable but it’s safe, cocooning even. It’s all I can give her right now.

“We’ll close up here, Psycho. Don’t worry about a thing.” I barely hear Shade make his promise before Spencer puts the car in reverse and nearly knocks all of our bikes to the ground in his hurry to get the fuck out of here and to the hospital.

“I’m sorry.” Her whisper takes me off guard but my entire body tenses as my brain registers what she means.

“I love you, Cherry, but don’t ever fucking apologize to me about this again.” Squeezing her to my chest, I kiss the crown of her head to hide the tears that are now cascading down my own fucking cheeks and dampening her hair.

I will make it my mission to ensure she never feels the need to say those two needless words ever again.

As we approach the hospital at a speed that seriously makes me respect Spencer even more than I already do, I reach to the right and snag the wig, realizing too late that I have no fucking clue how this shit works.

I mean, how am I supposed to get her blonde hair in there, all hidden away?

Stirring in my arms, Mackenzie pops the seat belt off—prompting the angry beep from the sensors—and places her hand on mine.

“I’ll do it.” Her voice is devoid of any feelings, any intonation. She’s speaking facts and making sure the job is done right.

“Thanks.” Refusing to let her go, I watch, rapt, as her fingers fly around, braiding one side then the other.

“Can you hold the ends here? I don’t have any pins on me.” At her request, I press two digits to the top of her head until she brings the wig up and slides it on from the front to back. As she reaches me, I pull my index and middle fingers away. “I don't think this will hold very long but it’s better than nothing, I guess.”

The color and the texture are all wrong, as well as her scent, and the fact that I can’t smell her hair gives me a sudden sense of sadness. It’s like I’ve lost her, like she’s gone. Which is ridiculous. She’s right here in my arms.

Shaking off the melancholy cause I ain’t a fucking Emo, I kiss the tip of her nose and flash her my trademark smile, albeit weak and lacking any real bite to it. “You’re perfect, baby.” And I mean it. Fuck the wig and fuck the universe for throwing obstacles at her like she’s been forced to do some kind of hellish parkour and can’t stop or else the world explodes. Is it a bit dramatic? Yeah, probably, but that’s how it feels lately.

As I’m staring at my girl, the back door flies open and our club doc is there, wheelchair at his side as promised.

“Hey, Psycho, sorry about this.” He then turns to Mackenzie and with a much softer tone, he extends his hand and introduces himself.

“Hey, Mackenzie, my name is Doctor Spellar and I’ll be taking you to the OBGYN right away. Okay?” For a brief second, Mackenzie tenses in my arms, her hands flying to her wig and adjusting it. “It’s okay, I’ve taken care of everything. You can put your head down and hide behind the curtain of red hair while I push your wheelchair, no one will bat an eye. I promise."

I don’t realize I’m growling until Mackenzie’s hand comes up to my face and her forehead presses against mine. I know what she’s doing, she’s trying to tell me to calm the fuck down without even speaking, but the idea of her not being in my arms makes me physically sick.

“Let me carry you.” I realize I’m begging, it’s in the pitch that’s usually lower, and the way I close my eyes to avoid seeing her answer is clear as day.

“You’ll draw too much attention.” It’s Doc who answers and I swear to fuck, I might stab him once we don’t need him anymore.

“Well, imagine the attention I’ll draw when I fucking lose my shit because I’m not touching her.” The worst part is that I’m not sure I’m exaggerating.

“Aleko?” Fuck me, my name from her lips is like a balm to sunburned skin. “Please hurry.” The slight crack at the end of her word does me in.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah, of course. Come on.” This time, I shut my fucking mouth and let the good doctor guide us to the maternity ward while a little piece of me dies a little with every step we take.

You’d think with how much we pay Doc, he’d have us in and out of that fucking place in record time. Well, turns out, there are rules and we had to fucking follow them because the hospital doesn’t give a shit about our feelings. Everyone here has some type of feelings and ours aren’t special.

In my mind, I murdered nearly seven different people tonight. So many husbands and wives and kids should consider themselves lucky I have a semblance of self-control.

“Scarlett Green, the doctor is ready for you, hon.” My gut plummets to the floor, knowing this will probably tear her apart emotionally. The nurse tries to stop me.

She tries and that’s all she does because the feral snarl that escapes my mouth could make grown bears run away crying. She neither runs nor cries but she does fucking roll her eyes at me, widening the berth for me to step through the door with Mackenzie in my arms. I guess nothing surprises her anymore.

The sterile room is lacking, it’s cold and impersonal. A stark reminder that we’re in a hospital, where warmth is bacteria’s favorite playground.

“Scarlett, I just need to ask you a few questions.” As the nurse runs through her list, I let my mind wander to a time, not so long ago, when things were great. Well, after she lied about her fake death and right before she snuck out to talk to a fucking psychopath behind my back. In that short window, we lived in bliss.

Bliss that I’ll miss, and although I am confident that we’ll find that peace again, I’m also certain it won’t be anytime soon. And that's okay. I’ll help her heal. I’ll be by her side and hold her for as long as she needs to be in my arms.

“Okay, I just need you to sit up here and lie down.” In that moment, I decide that my job here is to make sure her focus is on me. On us. On the future we’re about to build together, despite the shit that’s been thrown at us. Despite the pain and the danger and all the other shit happening around us.

“Hey.” Turning my body so that my back is to the nurse and the doctor who walked in just minutes ago, I bring my face so close to hers that it creates a bubble just for us. “Look at me.” Without hesitation, she does as I ask. Our eyes lock and the brimming tears that hold for just a second before giving up the fight and spilling over the corners and down her temples make my voice hitch. “I love you, Cherry Pie. This isn’t the end. This is you and me healing from loss.” More tears run down her temples and burrow into the wig as her bottom lip trembles like a child that fears for their life. “This is me showing you what love looks like, okay? It’s messy and it hurts sometimes.” My whispers seem so loud in the quiet of the room as the doctor and nurse murmur their own instructions and instruments clink and move.

“I’m scared.” As Mackenzie blurts out her admission, she loses the battle with her composure, a sob escaping with her last syllable.

“Me too, baby. Me too. But guess what?” My lips brush softly against her wet, salty ones and I realize mine are covered in my own tears as I try to reassure her.

“What?”

“We’re stronger than fear. We’re stronger than anything.” Clearing my throat to make sure my words are distinct, I press my forehead to hers and close my eyes, whispering. “You and me, Cherry Pie, we’re gonna be okay. I won’t let it be any other way.” Lifting my forehead, I pin her with a heated gaze. “No other fucking way, you get me?”

It’s when she nods that I believe my own promise.

Except I didn’t realize we still had obstacles to overcome before my words turned to truth.