Club Scars (6 page)

“Breathe, little sister. It helps,” Ginny urged.

Kat let out a gasping pant. Her body shuddered. Nails scrabbling over Crux’s grease stained hand, she pried it from her stomach to cling to it with both of hers. A sob bubbled from her lips as she slumped.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Of course you can. You’re one of the toughest bitches I know.”

The look Kat shot her best friend was filled with doubt despite Ginny’s encouragement. Stress lined her face, sweat dotting her forehead. She took Ginny’s offered hand in one of hers and held it tight.

The next hour was the longest of Crux’s life. How in the hell did men put their wives through this shit more than once? By the time the doctor urged Kat to push he was on the verge of promising God never to touch her again if he’d just end the pain. He held her, feeling the shudder and buck of her body. Her nails dug crescents into his skin. Her screams ripped at his heart and he ground his teeth, praying and cursing God in the same breath.

Their son’s first cry was the most welcome sound ever. He felt moisture trickle down his cheek as the doctor laid the squalling cherub on Kat’s stomach. Red, his face screwed up in a pissed off wail, the little one’s dark hair stuck up in wet spikes. He was beautiful. Kat let go of his hands to run hers over their son in a flutter of worry. Crux held his breath as she counted fingers and toes. He was perfect.

Kat looked over her shoulder at him and he dropped a quick kiss on her mouth.

“Oh my God, he’s so gorgeous,” she breathed.

He had to clear his throat before he could push the words out.

“He’s a keeper, baby.”

Kat still held one hand in her sleep; his other was dangling in the bassinet. Crux smiled in the dark as Cam’s tiny fingers wrapped around his forefinger. This dad stuff was going to take some getting used to. For the time being he was happy enough just to watch the joy on his wife’s face every time she looked at their child. The rest would come. He yawned. Despite calling off work to spend the day at the hospital, he’d never been so exhausted. It had been a roller coaster day.

Letting his head loll over the back of the chair, he closed his eyes. They were dry and gritty, like he’d spent the day in a weld booth. His tears had surprised him. It had been a long time since he’d given in to that weakness. His chest tightened. After all these years, he could still feel the sting of the fist in his hair hauling him out from behind the couch. He had kicked and screamed like a wild animal as the bastard lifted him clear of the floor. The air had whooshed from his lungs as he’d crashed through the glass coffee table. His mother’s initial concern had been for the furniture. The John had laughed. Their conversation was blurred in his memory now, but he remembered the handsome man leaning over him with a sneer, “
I’ll give the little fucker something to cry about.”
The light had glinted off the jagged piece of glass as it sliced across his face. Shock and time had dulled the pain, but for some reason he could still feel the rush of blood on his skin and the humiliating warmth when he’d wet his pajama bottoms.

Crux swallowed the knot in his throat. The words had stuck with him over the years and were an instant trigger. It wasn’t something someone ever wanted to say to his kid. He’d spent seven years in prison for using a crowbar to beat the shit out of a stranger who thought that sort of drivel was the way to get through to a child. It had been just been his luck that the fucker was an off duty police officer just like Mommy’s John. His lip curled in disgust, crooked bastards. Sighing, he pulled his hand from the bassinet to swipe over his face and rub at tired eyes. Finally, he draped his arm back over the baby bed and slouched in the chair. He needed to get some sleep.

Crux’s eyes snapped open a second before Kat’s scream shattered the night. Surging to his feet with a roar, he pushed the bassinet backwards, away from the menacing form that loomed over it. He hit the man square in the chest with his shoulder sending them both crashing to the floor. Light from the hall fell across the intruder’s face and rage roared through Crux with recognition. One fist closed around that impeccable Windsor knot at his father-in-law’s throat as he reared back with the other to drive it into the old bastard’s face. Hands caught his arm and he had to settle for twisting the tie tighter and ramming his knee into the older man’s groin. The agony on the fucker’s face was satisfying. Lights came on, the cacophony of voices drawing a wailing cry from Camden.

A security guard crashed through the door and used his considerable bulk to help drag the men apart. Staggering to his feet, Crux swung his gaze to the bed. It was empty. Terror helped him fling the burly security guard off. He spun, eyes wild as he searched the room. Kat shook in the corner, her body positioned desperately between her private bogeyman and her child. Crux turned back to the guard and staff with a feral snarl.

“Get him the fuck out of here!”               

Kat’s father crawled slowly to his feet, his pale cerulean eyes glittering. Color suffused his sharp features and Crux didn’t miss the wince as the old man smoothed the front of his slacks and resisted the urge to cup his bruised balls. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he straightened the cuffs on his sharp suit with a snap.

Crux felt his lip curl in disgust as he stared at the sick fuck. He hadn’t changed much in fifteen years. The wealthy business man looked him in the eye, no extra flesh on his angular frame. Long blunt fingers adjusted his tie and Crux sneered at the soft hands and perfectly manicured nails. John Merrick hadn’t done a day’s work in his pampered life.

“Sir, it’s past visiting hours,” the security guard said.      

“That man assaulted me. I want him arrested,” he wheezed.

The guard stepped hastily between them as Crux lunged at the older man. An orderly moved in to help.

“I’ll show you assault you arrogant prick.”

“Sir, visiting hours are—”

“I’m well aware of the hour. I just stopped in to check on the welfare of my daughter and new grandson when I was attacked. Perhaps you missed that part.”

It was everything the guard and the orderly could do to restrain Crux as John stepped around him dismissively, eyes locked on the little boy.

“Get him the fuck out of here!” Kat screeched, tears rolling down her pale face.

Crux completely lost his shit at the fear in his wife’s voice. His heavy boot heel crushed the orderly’s foot as the back of his head smashed into the guard’s face. Wrenching away from their loosened hold he moved between Kat and her father, fists clenched, chest heaving.

“Stop, Croston!” an officer ordered from the doorway. “What’s going on here?”

“I merely stopped in to see my grandson for the first time. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this day,” John said, his eyes narrowing on his daughter before he offered a tight smile. “Finally a worthy heir, and just when I’d given up hope of Katrina ever doing something I could be proud of.”

Kat shook with rage as she glared at her father over Crux’s shoulder. “He’s not
your
anything! You won’t touch my baby.”

A nurse tried to step closer to the basinet and crying child, but Crux whirled on her making the poor woman fall on her ass in an effort to back away.

“Let me put this in a way you people can understand,” Crux snapped. “Get this abusive son-of-a-bitch out of my wife’s hospital room or I will sue your fucking asses for emotional trauma and anything else an over paid attorney can think of.”

Looking at the fear and strain on Kat’s face, the deputy stepped in front of John, a hand going to his chest.

“I think you need to leave, Mr.?”

Looking at the hand, John looked back up, eyes narrowing. “Merrick. John Merrick.”

“I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if you left now, Mr. Merrick. It’s the middle of the night. Your daughter is tired and upset. The little one needs her attention.”

“I want to press charges and I offer my very fine attorney’s services to these two gentlemen as well. As you can see, Croston is a very violent man.”

“Are you guys all right?” At their nods the deputy continued pointedly, “I think what we have here is an overprotective husband and father that was confronted in the middle of the night and acted to protect his own. You look no worse for the wear, and I’m not wasting the resources. I’m asking you to leave, and not come back unless you’re invited.”

“Do you have any idea who my family is?”

“I know who your daughter is and I know that your son-in-law is not a patient man. That is what we’re dealing with right now,” the officer said patiently, “Now, if you’re about to threaten me, I’d stop and think about where you want to spend tonight until the courts open, and reconsider.”   

Looking past the officer in annoyance, John’s glare bore into Crux.

“I won’t let you take my grandson from me the way you did Katrina. You took something precious and despoiled it.”

“Let’s get a couple of things straight, old man. You and your perverted brother hurt Kat. I’ve never treated her with anything but love and respect. She’s my wife now and if you do anything to hurt her or my son, I will gut you.”   

The menace in Crux’s voice made even the officer shift uncomfortably, his hand moving to rest on his side arm.

“I don’t know what my slut of a daughter sees in a lowlife, sideshow freak like you.”

Crux smiled and took a step closer to Merrick. “You don’t need to worry about Kat. You just remember what I said. You fuck with me and my pretty face will be the last damn thing you ever see.”

Four

John Merrick pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the pounding in his skull to cease. His other hand shook as he tried to pour a glass of bourbon, making him slosh the expensive liquor. The drive home had done nothing to cool his temper. Grinding his teeth he stared into the mirror above the bar. Fury made the vein in his forehead throb grotesquely. He closed his eyes to the outward sign of his slipping control. A feral growl of frustration sounded in his throat.  

Downing his drink, he luxuriated in the burn. A humorless chuckle escaped his lips and he shook his head. In the elation of finding out Katrina had delivered a healthy Merrick
boy
, he had forgotten about Croston. The filthy lowlife still posed a problem. He’d underestimated the hold the biker had on Katrina. As disgusted as he’d been fifteen years ago to find her shacked up with the hoodlum, he’d figured it was just a matter of time before his little girl came crawling home. That hadn’t happened. Now he would have to take care of the problem.

Pouring another drink, John settled into his leather office chair. He’d hardly blinked six months ago when a Cleveland Internal Affairs officer had come around asking questions about his son-in-law. He grimaced at the term. It had only been a matter of time before someone connected the dots. On the other hand, the news that Katrina was pregnant had been a surprise. Once he’d shared a little family history with the officer, he’d been more than willing to share what information the police had on Katrina, Croston, and the Lords of Mayhem Motorcycle Club. It seemed Croston and his friends had made some enemies over the years.

After the officer had left, he’d put his own guy to work looking into things. Pouring over the pictures and reports the investigator had provided him, John had been sickened by what his daughter had become. He’d always made sure she’d had the finest of everything. Now Katrina had submersed herself in her husband’s biker subculture. With a wardrobe of ratty denim and leather she looked hard, little better than a street walker. At least tonight, in the innocence of sleep, she’d been his beautiful little girl again.

Seeing her like that had brought the past flooding back. His head lolled against the top of the chair as images flashed behind closed lids. Grown now, the similarities between mother and daughter were even more pronounced. She was the mirror image of Kassandra. When he’d lost his wife he’d thought he’d go out of his mind. Grieving had been a long battle for both of them. Katrina had been the only thing to keep him sane. He had clung to her. When she’d lashed out in anger and distrust it had nearly brought him to his knees. He’d tried reasoning with her but she was stubborn and headstrong even at twelve. She’d refused to believe that her mother had deserted them. The bitch’s whispered lies had turned his princess against him. One last “fuck you” in the rearview mirror.