I slowly put on new underwear and pants, trying to figure out how to get to the hospital. Jace. Reaching down for my phone, I scream as the pain slices again through me, the pain bringing me to my knees on the floor as the crash to the tile. I reach for my phone and dial Jace’s number. He answers on the first ring. Thank you.
“This is a nice surprise. See aren’t you glad I gave you my number?” I do not have time for his smooth talking and cut him off abruptly.
“I need you to get over here now and get me to the hospital. I’m pregnant, about 12-13 weeks. I’m bleeding and in a lot of pain. Please hurry.” I beg him, tears begin rolling down my face at the realization of what may be happening right now. Before I even get the last words out, loud banging echoes through the apartment.
“I’m coming. It’s taking me a bit to get to the door.” I say grabbing every bit of strength to get up off the floor. I grip my stomach and trying to walk as fast as I can, yet not nearly fast enough each step sending shooting pains through my body.
“Take your time and breathe. I’ll get you to the hospital.” His voice is calm and sure as he speaks to me through the door. I feel anything but.
I twist the locks on the door and open it wide. “Shit.” He mutters, his eyes grow wide with panic as they trail up and down my body. “Come here.” He picks me up in his arms, holds me close to his body on the elevator ride down and places me into his car. “Breathe. I’ll get you there.”
I bite my lip trying not to scream, but the pain is so intense, like nothing I’ve ever felt before, take cramping times a thousand. I close my eyes and rest my head on the seat biting back as much of the pain as I can. Jace doesn’t say a word, he just drives… Fast, but everything is a blur to me.
Entering the ER, I tell the doctors and nurses in a rush as much as I can and they begin checking me from head to toe. They place me on a bed with wheels and move me here and there all the while my hands gripping my stomach tightly. The room they put me in is white and cold and IV’s are placed in my arms and big machines that make lots of noises are brought in. They make Jace wait outside the room and I am utterly alone.
Tears stream uncontrollably down my face. I know my baby is gone. Deep down, I can feel the loss already.
After what feels like hours, the doctor pulls his chair up to the side of my bed and sits next to my head. “Ms. Alexander. I’m very sorry, but the baby didn’t make it. At this time, we don’t know why or if there is a reason you miscarried.” Sobs escape my throat; my chest tightens to the point where I cannot breathe. I feel like I’m suffocating… dying. “I need to go in and do a D&C. That’s where I go in and clean up your uterus.”
“No!” I scream loud. “You are not taking my baby out of me!” I pull away from him and try to get up from the table, but the wires and tubes coming out of my body slow me down. I begin pulling them off of my body in a panic, the plastic foreign to my touch.
The doctor stands over me grabbing my arms. “Ms. Alexander. You must calm down. We must do the procedure, there is no choice.” His voice is trying to soothe me, but nothing will at this point.
I stare at him fear ripping through me, my arms wrapping around my stomach. I never even told the father the baby existed and now it’s gone. Gone, just like my Dad.
“I’m going to have the nurse give you something to settle you.” I continue to stare at the man, my mind coming up a big blank canvas, void and nothingness. I don’t have the will to stop him or argue with him anymore. I just don’t care. If my baby’s gone, I have nothing.
“I’m so sorry Casey.” Jace’s voice whispers in my ear. I feel his hand rubbing the top of mine and I slowly open my eyes, the realization of what just happened hits me like a Mac truck.
I yank my hand from his placing both of them over my face and sob, uncontrollably. I pour every bit of sadness, frustration and longing into the tears that go on forever. I just can’t stop.
I feel Jace by me, but I do not acknowledge him. I don’t want him anywhere near me right now. I don’t want anyone. I don’t need anyone.
The door bursts open, but I don’t bother looking, instead I try my best to curl up in a ball, tucking my feet to my chest. The pain is there, but this time I welcome it. At least I can feel something.
“Oh my God!” Bella’s voice comes closer and she slides up to me, my eyes only seeing a blur of her from the water encasing them. “I’m so sorry babe. I wish you would have told me.”
I continue to sob my words coming out choked. “It doesn’t matter. It’s gone. Everything is gone.”
Bella lays her body next to mine and hugs me while I continue to sob.
Chapter 3—G.T.
Riding. It’s the only time my mind is free from all the bullshit that clouds my life. Weaving in and out of the winding roads, feeling the breeze slamming my face washes away all the grisly, if only for a moment.
Riding lets me be free.
Some compare riding to sex, for me its better. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all in for a good fuck, but even in the throes of lust, my mind doesn’t shut the fuck up. Sex subdues it, but it’s always there, mocking me, throwing all the shit I’ve done since I was thirteen in my face. The death and destruction are always there on the forefront mocking me.
There has only been one time in my life that sex was amazing. Where the act of sex actually shut off all the thoughts and let me live in a specific moment. But she is too good for an asshole like me. She deserves all the roses and sunshine bullshit that I can never give her. She’s different from my sister, Princess. Even though she grew up in the club, she’s not hardened by it. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but she is soft where Princess is rough. I didn’t want to break it off with her and when I did it wasn’t right, but I fully believe I did it to protect her in the long run. From me. Now, she hates me with every fiber in her being and it’s best to keep it that way.
Ravage MC is my life. It is what I’ve been born and bred to do, to uphold and to protect. Outsiders say that I’m a poor boy whose dad thrust him into a life giving him no choice. Bullshit. There is always a choice. So what? I learned more at thirteen about the real world than most of those fucks know now. I know more about running businesses, making money and protecting what’s mine than any of them and how to be successful at it. I may never have a college degree, but I make damn good money.
My brothers have my back at every turn and I can always count on them. How many people can say their family would do that for them? Not many.
This life is what I wanted. Everyone else can just go fuck themselves if they have a problem with it because it’s their problem, not mine.
Pops did lay down ground rules for me though before I could become a brother of Ravage. One, I had to have my high school diploma in my hand. Two, I had to be legal.
In actuality, I have been prospecting since thirteen; I just didn’t realize it at the time. Each menial task; such as cleaning up from parties or the shit on the bathroom floor were tests from the brothers. Whenever Pops told me to do something, I did it, no complaints. When I turned eighteen, I finally got my official Prospect rag. The party that night kicked fucking ass. I’d never been so happy and knee deep in pussy in my entire life.
After receiving my diploma, my graduation party turned into a full out club meeting with my official rag being placed on my back. Best fucking day ever.