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“How’re you feeling baby?”
You shrugged and pushed the shopping cart across the parking lot with one hand, the other hand holding your phone to your ear.
“Alright, I guess. I threw up twice today.”
Tig sighed on the other end and ran his hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry baby. I wish I could be there tonight to have dinner with you, but this vote happens tonight and I’m sure church is gonna drag on too. Just go ahead and eat without me, I’ll heat up my plate when I get home.”
“Are you sure? I can just eat a snack and then eat with you when you get home. Besides, I don’t feel that hungry right now anyways. The doctor said my appetite will be shitty for a little while as everything starts changing.”
You pushed the cart up to your car and popped the trunk, grabbing bags by the handles and placing them into your trunk as you continued to carry on the conversation with your Old Man, deciding what exactly you should cook for tonight’s dinner. You were nearly finished with all the groceries as you heard men laughing a ways behind you, a group of three walking out of the store and into the parking lot as well. You paid no mind to them, continuing to place your groceries in the trunk and speak to Tig when you heard a voice closer to you know, speaking in your direction.
“Well look who it is.”
You turned around to see the group now walking towards you, the one in the front obviously the leader of the pack. Your eyes raked over each of them, knowing that you’d never met any of them before.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me you biker bitch.”
As you kept looking at them, you noticed a second too late the swastika on the main one’s arm, SS bolts on the neck of the one behind him to the right.
Nords.
Your groceries were long forgotten as you slowly turned to face them, not wanting to give them your back.
“Baby? Who’s that? Who’s there?”
Tig couldn’t hear the best from his end of the phone but he heard a man’s voice and the word bitch, his hands already clenching the bottle of Heineken in his hand.
“Someone talking shit to you?”
You ignored him and straightened up, silently spinning your keys around in your hand, splicing them between your fingers to stick out of your knuckles. Your Ruger was tucked away too far in your purse to be of use to you in the moment.
“Can I help you?”
“That your bitch of a man on the phone? The fucking freak with the curly hair?”
You didn’t answer, only listened as Tig spoke to someone in the background, probably Clay if you had to guess. You weren’t concerned with that at the moment though, you were keeping focused on them to see when you had to jump into action. You hoped they were just going to shit talk, try and scare you a little before going about their way, but something in their body language told you that wasn’t going to be the case. You were a smart girl, growing up around the club your entire life. While you knew you could defend yourself, you knew it would be stupid to try and get into the car with them this close and give them your back. You had to protect yourself and your baby. You weren’t far along enough yet for it to be painfully obvious you were with child and the hoodie you wore didn’t help. You doubted they’d care anyway if you told them. Pregnant and alone, three on one weren’t good odds for you. You knew you were at a loss. You knew you couldn’t take all of them, but you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without a fight. And a fight it was.
The one in the front grabbed at you suddenly, trying to go for your hair but stopped short as you swung at his side, his scream echoing in the quiet parking lot as your keys sunk into his skin. They weren’t long enough to kill but it would at least buy you some time to maybe get to your purse. He stumbled back from you, other others staring at him as he growled and pointed at you.
“Get that bitch!”
The one on the left swung at you fast, you barely being able to dodge it before the other one came for you too, his fist catching the side of your face, your cheekbone searing from the hit. You hand was swinging too though, hoping to snag a key on someone else now. He saw the glistening in your hand though and grabbed your wrist roughly, twisting it and the keys dropped out onto the floor. You didn’t have much time to react as another fist came at you, this time clipping your temple on the side of your forehead and making everything go black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You groaned as your eyes fluttered open, hushed talking happening around you. You could tell whoever it was was trying to be quiet but a splitting headache you had wasn’t allowing for that. You winced as you tried to sit up, someone’s hand pressing your chest down. Your instincts kicked in and you shoved roughly at the hand, not knowing where you were or who was touching you. As your eyes came into focus though you saw that you were in a hospital room, surrounded by familiar faces, and it was your mothers’ hand that was pressing to your chest, keeping you laying down.
“Relax. Stay down, baby. Don’t want that concussion making you nauseous. Though apparently, the knot on your head ain’t the only thing that could be making you throw up.”
She pursed her lips as she looked at you, but you were still too disoriented to clue in on her words and what they meant. Your hands instinctively went to your stomach as you came to.
“What the fuck happened?”
It was your father’s voice that spoke next, and you looked up over at him.
“Nords. Saw you leaving the store and followed you out. Gave you a nice shiner and golf ball on your forehead but you’re alright, so’s the little peanut. Store security said they left as soon as they knocked you out so there wasn’t any more damage to you or the baby.”
You nodded softly before your eyes went wide and you snapped your head up to look at your dad, a small smirk there on both his and your mom’s faces.
“How did you…”
“Big mouth over her started freaking out at the clubhouse talking about, ‘I’ll fucking kill them if something happens so to my Old Lady or my kid’ so he kinda spilled the beans so to speak.”
You slowly shifted your gaze over to Tig who was now smiling nervously at you.
“Hi, baby. How’re you feeling? You look beautiful by the way.”
The rest of the club chuckled as you gave him the Gemma glare and stared him down.
“Well so much for letting them know on Thanksgiving Tig.”
Gemma shook her head and stood up to take you into her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Bullshit. I’ve got an extra month now to shop for my new grandbaby.”