Making the Cut (Son's of Templar MC)(71)

       
           



       

The last few days had been a blur. I had stumbled through them like a  zombie, unable, unwilling to feel anything. I was detached, my emotions  unplugged.

I had ended up having to stay overnight at the hospital and Cade never  left my side, sleeping in the chair beside my bed, while Amy lay beside  me. I paid him little notice, clutching Amy's hand, lying wide awake  with my eyes glued to the ceiling. I knew he watched me most of the  night, I could feel his gaze on me. When I was discharged I discovered  the entire club camped in the waiting room. Even Steg, I guess that  would've surprised me had I not been blissfully detached. I would've  also been touched by the concerned faces, the loving and thoughtful  words coming from the staunch bikers, but I woodenly stared past them  all, clinging to my little world of unfeeling.

Amy had arranged her father's jet to be ready as soon as I was  discharged, having my essentials packed and ready to go when she picked  me up from the hospital. We were meant to be leaving straight from  there, and Cade all but exploded when he learned this.



He was pushing me in my chair to the curb when Amy pulled up. She jumped  out of the car and directed a glare at him; someone had obviously  filled her in.

She wiped the scorching look off her face and smiled down at me weakly.

"I've got everything we need for our trip Gwennie, Daddy's jet is  waiting for us at a small airstrip outside of town and it'll take us to  LAX where we've got the next plane to Auckland. Daddy also insisted we  take his doctor with him on the flight. Just in case." She looked at my  stomach and leant down to help me up, pointedly ignoring Cade who  stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing Amy? You can't just take the  mother of my child away halfway across the world. Wherever she goes I  go." He growled, fury saturating his tone.

Amy raised an eyebrow and glared down at the tattooed arm covering hers, her look turned glacial.

"You take your hand off me right now." She hissed and continued to help  me up when Cade complied. I could feel him gripping my shoulder.

"I can and I will take Gwen back to her family, and her home, to the  people that love her. In case you have forgotten she is going to attend  the fucking funeral of her only brother." She snarled and I felt a blade  go through my soul.

"It just happens to be convenient that her home is as far away from you  that is humanly possible, and a silver lining in this fucking nightmare  is the fact that you are a criminal with a record which means you aren't  going anywhere."

Without waiting for a response she gently helped my stand from the chair  directing me away from Cade, and the men who had stopped behind him.  The men I considered family.

"Jesus Gwen, wait." Cade pleaded. The grief and anger in his voice made me turn.

I put my hand on Amy's arm. "It's okay Amy." My voice was still cold, flat.

She glared at Cade then took her hands off me. As soon as that happened,  Brock surged forward, pulling her away and hissing frantically in her  ear. I didn't move an inch, Cade was on me in one stride, framing my  face with his hands. His eyes locked with mine, face hard and soft at  the same time.

"Baby, Gwennie. Just give me some time to sort this shit out. I'm coming  with you. You are not facing this without me. I won't let you go  through this without me." He words were firm, his tone a promise. "I  love you to the depths of my soul. The baby too. I won't let you go  through a second of this without me by your side." He finished softly,  hand caressing my belly.

I stared back at him, the love, concern, anguish in his eyes failing to  affect me. My emotions were locked up deep inside me I couldn't let them  out. I couldn't have the loss coursing through my veins like a poison. I  was afraid I wouldn't survive.

"You need to let me go." I responded flatly.

His arms tightened on my neck. "Baby please." His voice almost broke and his stare burned into mine.

"Let me go now, I have a plane to catch." I watched him flinch at my tone. What he didn't do was let me go.

"Gwen … "

"Let me go!" I screamed in his face, my voice cracking.

Someone grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away. I took my chance and  hopped into the door that Amy was holding open for me, she had obviously  managed to pull herself away from her own angry biker. I watched as  Cade fought off Bull, yelling, throwing punches never taking his eyes  off me. Lucky and Brock joined in, struggling to hold him back. Unable  to watch anymore I turned my head as Amy drove away.



That was about 21 hours ago. I had barely slept, my mind going over  everything and nothing at all. Thoughts, memories tugging at the corners  of my mind, refusing to let me welcome oblivion.                       
       
           



       

Amy and I disembarked, walking along the tarmac of the small airport.  The mountains of home surrounded me like a warm blanket, even with the  bitter winter wind biting at my skin. We emerged at arrivals and I  zeroed my parents out immediately. My usually immaculate mother was  wearing faded jeans and a hoodie, her face free of makeup, eyes rimmed  red, she looked gaunt and grief had settled over ever inch of her small  frame. My father was staunch, strong, as usual, his arms around my  mother. His eyes were the only things that betrayed him. They were full  of sorrow and devastation. All of a sudden I was engulfed in my mothers  arms.

"Oh Gwennie, my baby." She sobbed clutching me to her.

I felt my fathers strong arms circle around us both, I looked up at him  to see his eyes glistening as he kissed my head. I clung to what  remained of my family.





Chapter 18

2 months later

"You know what Mum, I think this gardening thing is actually growing on  me." I informed her, my hands digging through the soil. I held them up,  inspecting my nails, which were caked with dirt. "Even if it destroys my  manicure."

My mother smiled. "Well it has only taken 25 years." She replied dryly.

"And you are supposed to wear gloves." She waved her bright pink flowered ones.

I turned my attention back down at the soil and sighed. "I like the feel of it between my fingertips, it's … soothing."

My mother's smile turned sad, I could tell her thoughts were turning to worry. And grief.

"Gwennie. Sweetheart, you know you need to talk, you can't keep this  bottled up. You haven't even cried since the funeral." Her voice was  wobbly.

She was right. I hadn't shed a tear since they had put my brother in the  ground. Hadn't spoken a word of him if I could avoid it, I couldn't. I  couldn't open that dam, because I was afraid if I did I could never plug  it back up. I couldn't let myself let go of the carefully put together  pieces of my soul. I would shatter.

I stood up abruptly, dusting my hands off on my already dirty dress.

"Mum I don't need to talk okay? Just let me be. Please stop pressuring me when I don't have anything to say."

She stood too, eyes glistening. "Gwen … " she looked as if she was going to push it.

"Okay my two best green thumbs, time to go, I've got us booked in for  three." Amy stood on the porch, her heels not permitting her from  venturing onto the grass.

I would have laughed if I had had the ability, my Mahattanite best  friend may have settled into life in the country alright but she was yet  to adopt the gumboots that were second nature around here.

"What are you smirking at Martha Stewart? I know for a fact you are in desperate need of a manicure." She shot at me.

Amy was trying as hard as she could to hide her grief. But it leaked out  every now and then. I would watch her face grow dark and tears well in  her eyes when something she said or did reminded her of … him. I was  trying to ignore my own suffering as best I could so I focused on hers,  she lost him too. The man she loved. We were both as broken as each  other, trying to hide our wounds as best we could. The breeze rustled my  dress and my thoughts ventured downward to the round bulge of my  stomach.

"I'm coming, just give the pregnant woman some slack, I'll be waddling soon." I made my way through our garden, Mum at my side.

"Soon?" Amy raised a brow. "I think I detect a slight waddle now."

I gasped, grabbing my mother's hand, turning to her in horror.

"Did you hear that Mum? She said I waddled. I'm not waddling. Am I?" I asked desperately.

My mother smiled through the pain that was in her eyes and touched my  stomach lightly. "Well I wasn't going to say anything … " She joked,  sneaking a glance at my so called best friend.

"Oh you two are pieces of work, making fun of the pregnant lady. You do  get how delicate my hormones are right now? And that I am holding  gardening scissors?" I glared at them both, shaking my weapon  threateningly.