Their Lasting Claim (Death Lords MC 5)

I look down at my undershorts that are now about a size too small. “No need because my cock only responds to you.” I grab her hand and place it over my burgeoning woody. “Maybe a good fucking would help you get over your morning sickness.”

She grins and squeezes me. I lean forward for a kiss when I hear a knock at the door.

“Easy, your bacon is burning.”

Fuck. “I’ll be out in a minute,” I shout a little more gruffly than I intended.

“Later,” she whispers and then gives me another swift stroke. Reluctantly I push away and get dressed. Afterwards, I stomp out and finish breakfast. The bacon was not fucking burning though. I glare at Mrs. Bloom who gazes back with wide, innocent eyes.

Chapter Seven

Annie

Breakfast has a weird flavor to it. The bacon is crisp but I can’t eat the eggs. They make me nauseous. Or maybe it was the tension. I can’t decide whether I want my mom there or not and Easy picks up on that readily. He’s taking his cues from me, which I appreciate more than I can say, but I’m not sure whether I want her to leave or I need her to stay.

I do give her a hug goodbye before Easy takes me to work and it’s not as awkward as the one yesterday was. But it’s also not warm. I don’t have a lot of memories where she’s embracing me so I don’t think it’s the distance or time that makes the hugs awkward but just who she is. Some people aren’t huggers. Father and I weren’t given to overt physical displays of affection. I’ve gotten more used to touching after being around Michigan and Easy. When I’m with them, one or both have a hand somewhere on me. Maybe it’s my ankle when we’re watching television or maybe it’s the small of my back when we’re walking. They have no problem touching me all the time and I love that.

I want my child to be surrounded by constant love and affection. The kind that Easy’s family doles out like it’s candy on Halloween.

The day speeds by again. Fortunately there isn’t anything at the shop that I’m going to be asked to do that is going to be a problem. Shipping and receiving need to be logged so I create a spreadsheet to track both.

On the wall is Judge’s wait list. His shop specializes in the repair and restoration of American muscle cars. The shop is so good it has a waiting list that is two pages long. Some of the names on the list send my eyebrows into my forehead and I’m desperate to ask anyone if there are really famous people on the list or it’s merely a coincidence.

In the meantime I spend a couple of hours cracking Judge’s obscure symbols and shorthand. It takes me some Googling, but about midmorning I start to figure out what it all means. The letter C stands for Cobra, not Camaro or Corvette. P with the exclamation point is not Pinto but the 1964 Pontiac GTO. CZ is the Camaro.

The product catalogs are indecipherable to me so I call up the companies to ask if they have any online catalogs. They do and email me the forms to fill out to get access.

I put in what I can based on the information I’ve seen on the invoices. There are two bills to pay so I handwrite the checks from a check register I find in the desk drawer and set them aside for Judge to sign. By noon, I’ve finished with nearly everything and am reading an engine repair site to familiarize myself with the names of different parts. That way when people call, I won’t be totally clueless.

Around lunchtime, my mom shows up.

“Your mom is here, Annie. You okay with that?” Judge stands with one hand on the doorknob as if he's ready to shoo my mother away.

"I'm fine, thanks. Is it okay if we eat lunch in the office?"

“You bet.”

“Hi honey!” Mom comes over and hugs me before I can even stand up. It’s more hugs than she gave me in the past decade. I notice Judge’s eyebrows shooting up, and over Mom’s shoulder I see that she’s got her tush in the air. From Judge’s expression, whatever she’s wearing is giving him a good view.

I push out of her embrace and when she straightens, I see her smooth down a short pink skirt. It’s pretty with ruffles around the bottom but Lord, is it short.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Judge says. “Take whatever time you need.”

“Please, feel free to stay. I’d love to get to know my little Annie’s employer.”

“Not fucking happening,” he replies and shuts the door firmly.

“Well, that was rude.” She huffs and lets out an exasperated laugh. “What do you expect from someone who runs a motorcycle gang? Annie, I’m worried about you. What is going on? You’re living with not one, but two men and from the looks of things, these boys aren’t roommates. What kind of relationship have you got going on?”

Years of being told to turn the other cheek prevents me from saying it is none of her business. “We have an unusual arrangement but it works for us. I love them both.”

She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Annie, honey, you are a baby. You are not experienced enough to hold these two roughnecks. They are going to use you up and then toss you aside. You need to find some nice boy who works at the factory and will provide a good home for you. These two men are not going to be satisfied with one little church girl at home. And how are you going to feel when they start stepping out on you?”

Her words cut deep into my insecurities. I rub the leather cuffs around my wrists—the ones that say I belong to Easy and Michigan. I wear these cuffs every day as a sign of their claiming. But where’s my sign on them? My introspection causes my mother to continue.

“I don’t deny that there’s a rough sensuality about the two of them but you’re just too young to know how to deal with that.”

“We’re getting along fine,” I say finally. The fact is if they had wanted to leave me behind, they could have. I was out of commission for several weeks after Father beat me. But they cared for me and waited for me and rearranged their whole lives to make room for me.

I straighten and look my mother in the eye. “They love me and they would never hurt me like that.”

“You don’t know that,” she scoffs.

“I do,” I say with growing confidence. I rub those leather cuffs again and remember the wonder on Michigan’s face when I put his on. He’d never leave me and Easy, for as careless as he may seem on the surface, he loves hard. I feel it every night after we make love and he can’t let go of me. I may be young and inexperienced but I’m no innocent.

Having two men at one time strips all that away. And any lack of finesse I may have in the bedroom has never generated an ounce of discontent. They love showing me and teaching me all the ways we can pleasure each other. Easy once said that it was because I hadn’t ever had sex before that I wasn’t afraid of anything they proposed. Every sexual experience I’ve had has been wonderful so when they propose new things, I’m excited rather than scared off.

“I’m your mother,” she begins, but I cut her off.

“No, you gave that up a long time ago. If you want us to have a relationship again, you need to acknowledge that.”

She doesn’t like this. Her pink lips press together and thin out. I notice then that the fullness is really a result of artfully applied makeup. In the harsh fluorescent light of the shop office, she doesn’t look as flawless as she did by the softer light of the Hilltop Cafe or the early morning sunlight that drifted into our kitchen. I see her eyes are darkened with liner making them look mysterious. And I have a suspicion that her long lashes might just be glued on.

We stare at each other for a while and then her face hardens.

“Fine, let me be frank with you. Your dad had a sizable inheritance from his parents. If he goes to prison, the state will take it.”

“How so?”

“In legal fees, for one, but for the other, felons can’t access their funds. And those funds stay frozen while the person is incarcerated. Your father has been paying me a monthly stipend since I left. When it stopped, I looked him and you up.”

I sigh with part relief and part sadness. “Why am I not surprised that this visit is all about mone

y? I don’t have access to it. Father wiped out my account before he beat me.”

“This is where I come in.” She smiles and for the first time I think it's genuine. "Your father and I are still married.” She nods at my gasp of shock. “We’ll go in together. That money is supposed to be yours someday. Your name is on a special account. We go in together and you give me half and I’ll be out of your life for good.”

“How much is in there?”

“About a quarter of a million.”

I nearly faint.

“You had no idea, did you?” she says. “Your father is the tightest bastard and he liked to control people. I bet he did everything possible to make sure you stayed at home, working in that church. Did he call people in town and tell them not to hire you so you were forced to be church secretary?”

“I-I—” I don’t even know what to say. It never even occurred to me that he’d do something like that but it made sense looking back because I couldn’t get a job even pumping gas.

She nods knowingly. “I’m right. I can see it in your face. So will you help me?”

“I need to think about it.” I shove out of my chair and run to the bathroom where I puke up my breakfast. She follows me inside and hands me the water bottle that was on the edge of my desk.

“Or I can stick around and play grandma for you,” she mocks.

“How’d you know?” I ask, placing a protective arm around my middle.