Chapter 7.
1701 Words
Chase’s POV.
Once Shannon and my son Chance have rounded the corner, I turn and see the club members, their ol ladies, and the sweet butts are watching me with disgust on their faces. Some of them turn and head back inside while the rest leave the clubhouse and head to their homes.
I sigh and hang my head in shame and heartbreak.
I walk down the steps towards my bike and my knees buckle and I drop into the dirt. A guttural roar leaves me as I wrap my arms around myself. I cry for Shannon. I cry for my son. I cry for the loss of my president. I cry for the loss of my best friend and his ol lady. I cry because I have f****d up badly.
I cry from seeing the look of disgust on Shannon’s face and the fear in my son’s eyes. This is not who I am. This is not the person I want to be.
My son and my woman shouldn’t be afraid of me and they are. I don’t move from the spot, not when Stinger comes back, or Bear. They both lift me and I want to fight them off but I can’t. I’m broken, I’m lost and I don’t know what to do to fix this mess that I created.
“She will come back when she is ready, Chase, and when she does, you need to own your s**t and she will forgive you. Just don’t be too hard on her.” Shane’s words ring through my skull and I look up at the heavens as I’m dragged to my house. He knew about my son and didn’t tell me.
I never understood the don’t be too hard on her part and now I do. I’m pissed. She had my son and kept him from me. But I know why, she thought that I wouldn’t want him or he would be seen as a threat by Ruby. My son, he has more right to the presidency than I do. Hell, even Shannon has more right to it than I do. I never wanted it, I still don’t, but the club needs a president.
“I don’t want it.” I mumble as I’m dragged inside the house and dumped on the sofa. My boots are removed and a glass of water is placed in my hand.
“Drink it. I don’t care if you don’t want it. What you did tonight was vile and if Shan leaves again, it will be because of you again.” Bear growls and I growl back at him.
“I don’t want the presidency. I never f*****g did. It is Shannon’s.” I say to him as I grab the water and drain the glass in three large gulps.
“She is the rightful heir until Chance becomes of age. I’m not fit for the position. I never was. The club belongs to Shannon. A Kincaid needs to sit at the head of the table, not me, not you or any other brother.” I say groggily before the room sways.
“What was in that water?” I ask as the room spins.
“Sleep pills. Now sleep it off, Hunter. Ruby is gone and you need to get your s**t together, and f*****g fast.” Is the last thing I hear as I black out.
I groan, waking up half on the sofa, half on the floor. My mouth feels drier than a nun’s cunt and my head is pounding like a salvation army drum.
“f**k, what happened last night?” I ask myself as I lift myself up off the floor and sway before sitting my heavy ass on the sofa.
“You drank too much, made a d**k out of yourself, declared your marriage over, had me escort Ruby out of the house and off club property. Oh, and you learned you have a three-year-old son called …”
“Chance. Shannon, and my kid.” I finish for Stinger and he hums, nodding his head as he hands me a coffee, and in that moment, this fucker is my best friend.
“You knocked me out, you fucker.” I say with a wince as I take the first sip of coffee and sigh, leaning back against the sofa.
“I had to. You broke down, and we couldn’t have you running after Shannon, not after the little showdown in the clubhouse.” Stinger says and I grimace, knowing he is right as my memory wakes up, and I cringe at what I said in front of Shannon, even though I didn’t know she was there. The things I said to Ruby were vile and I should have never said them, but they are the truth.
“Shane would have kicked my ass for how I acted last night and not with Ruby, but with his sister and my son. I need to make this right. Where did you take Ruby last night?” I say to him and he smiles at me.
“I watched her pack. She tried to take cash from the safe in your office, but I stopped her and dragged her out by her arm. I made her sign the divorce papers. Then I grabbed the bag she had packed full of clothes and her accessories and dragged her to her car. I followed behind the car to the motel on the outskirts of town and told her that if she ever came back, I would kill her myself. Then I left and came back.” Stinger says and I nod my head, knowing he would have put the fear of god in Ruby.
“Finally, I should have forced her to sign them, thank you.” I say to him and he nods his head before drinking his coffee.
“What you need to do, Chase, is give Shannon space. She is grieving, like all of us are. She is feeling guilty. Bear told me this morning that he found her this morning crying in the kitchen as she made bottles for the girls while Chance was entertaining them in the living room.” He says and f**k giving her space, she needs me.
I stand up and feel dizzy but shake it off as I head to the stairs and up to my bedroom, ignoring Stinger shouting after me telling me not to go after Shannon. Well, f**k him. I see the empty hangers on the bed and the drawers open with Ruby’s things missing.
I walk past closing them as I head into the closet and grab jeans, a black T-shirt, clean socks, and underwear. Walking to the bathroom, I use the toilet, humming a tune, and strip down before climbing into the shower. Letting the hot water pound down against my body. I need to see Shannon.
I close eyes, tilting my head back, and see Shannon in my head. She looks damn good. She has grown into her curves, and I know her being pregnant with our son has helped her figure, not that she wasn’t a knockout before then, but she is more beautiful now. I see the sadness in her eyes, the tears as they cascade down her cheeks. I did that.
I wash quickly and shut the shower off and grab my towel, wrapping it around my waist. I get to work brushing my teeth and drying my dark curls before pulling them into a man bun. I shave and put on my cologne and get dressed.
Once dressed, I pull on my cut and my boots, grab my wallet and my phone and look at my gun but decide to leave it here. I know how Shannon is with a gun. So it’s best she can’t get her hands on it.
I walk back downstairs and find the living room empty and the empty mugs are no doubt in the dishwasher in the kitchen. I grab my keys and head outside. I look at my bike that no doubt Stinger brought here this morning and decide to walk to Shannon’s house. The same house that her parents built. The same house I have been inside thousands of times before, even when Shannon was still a scrawny kid.
I walk past members and some of them smile and it is like yesterday didn’t happen. Or it is the fact that Shannon is home. This is where she belongs.
Home.
Shannon is my home.
I walk up to the steps and raise my fist to knock on the door and the door swings open and I don’t see anyone until I look down, and there looking up at me with my eyes and curls is my son. He is wearing a black t-shirt with a motorbike on the front and dark jeans and on his feet are black leather Chelsea boots. He looks like a miniature biker.
“Chance. What have I told you about waiting for me to open the door?” Shannon comes running and stops when she sees me. I don’t miss the way her silver eyes widen and her breathing picks up. Or the way she balls her hands into fists. She is wearing faded ripped jeans, a black t-shirt with the Guns and Roses logo on, showing her belly piercing and toned stomach. Her long, white-blonde hair is in a high ponytail off her face.
“Hey little demon, we need to talk.” I say to her, and her breath hitches and she bites her bottom lip, and nods her head and steps away and I offer her a small smile before I look at my boy.
“Can I come in, Chance?” I ask him because he is the man of the house and any fool can see that with the way he stands protectively in front of his mom.
“Only if you promise not to be mean or I will hurt you.” I ignore the gasp from Shannon at our son’s boldness, nodding my head at him, offering him my hand and he takes it and shakes my hand.
“I promise.”
- Writer
