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The banging on the door vibrates through the grey light of early morning.
“What the fuck?” Zep throws back the bed covers and reaches for his jeans.
“Club meeting. Get out here now,” someone yells from the hallway.
My heart is hammering. “What’s going on?”
Zep pulls a shirt over his head and shrugs into his cut. He grabs his boots, leaning across the bed to plant a kiss on my mouth. “Stay put. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
The door closes behind him as he steps into the chaos outside.
A minute later, the hallway falls silent. Fear needles my spine, forcing me from the bed. I grab some clothes and head into the bathroom. I quickly dress and wash my face and teeth. Whatever is happening, I know I don't want to be sitting in bed naked.
I pace the narrow path between the door and the wall, waiting for Zep to return. I’ve been a guest of The Devils MC for nearly six weeks. The president took it to the club to vote and it was agreed I could stay if I kept out of everyone’s way. That suits me just fine. But now I feel trapped in this room. I can’t go into the common area; I wouldn’t be welcome.Hurry up, Zep.
Shouting erupts in the distance and footsteps make their way up the hall. A moment later, Zep appears.
“Pack your stuff, we gotta go.” He pulls out my backpack and the few clothes and toiletries I’ve accumulated in the time I’ve lived here.
I reach for my sketchpad and pencils. “What’s going on?”
Zep spins around and faces me. “Do you trust me?”
“I…”
“Becca?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “I trust you.”
He nods. “We need to leave. I’ll explain everything once I get you somewhere safe, I promise.”
“Okay,” I stammer. The familiar sense of numb settles around me.What is happening?
I move as if underwater out to Zep’s bike. We ride through the predawn streets for about forty minutes until we reach Parramatta. We pull into the driveway of a fancy hotel and Zep parks his bike at the front doors. As he raises his fist to knock on the glass, a harried staff member appears and swipes a card to open the doors. It seems we are expected.
“Thanks Harry,” says Zep.
“Room 926,” says Harry, handing over two keycards.
Zep grabs my hand and pulls me across the lobby to a bank of elevators. The doors open immediately and Zep waves a key card and pushes a button. We don’t speak, but he holds my hand tighter. It takes all of my self-control not to ask again what is going on. I know he’ll tell me when he can.
Room 926 is more like a suite than a hotel room. Zep places my backpack on the coffee table before pulling me into his arms.
“I have to leave again but I won’t be long.” His lips move against my hair. “Order room service but stay put until I get back, okay?”
My arms are wrapped around his waist and I want to beg him to stay with me. But I say nothing, only squeeze him harder. I know how fierce Zep’s loyalty is to the club. I lift my eyes to meet his gaze.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I nod and accept his kiss.
Once he leaves, I explore the suite and take a shower. Wrapped in a thick white robe, I order room service, sinking into the sofa and flicking the television on. There is a rerun of the season finale of Murphy Brown playing. I have watched the show off and on over the last few years, when Trudy and Bob were out, and decide it has a chance of occupying my mind for half an hour. Murphy decided to keep her baby - the result of a brief liaison with her ex-husband - at the beginning of the season and now she is giving birth.
A thought niggles at the back of my mind. I pick at my banana bread and sip my coffee. The thought takes hold as I think back over the last few weeks, counting them out on my fingers. My stomach begins to churn and my chest feels tight. No matter which way I add it up, the truth remains the same. It has been two months since my last period.
The door clicks open, admitting Zep into the suite. Panic seizes me and I spill the coffee over my robe.
“Hey, did I startle you?” Zep moves through the room and sits on the coffee table in front of me. “I’m sorry.”
