Gabriel and Breah

Chapter 10: Gabriel

My life for the last year has felt like nothing but lies.

There are the lies Garrett tells me to avoid trouble: I no take a cookie, Daddy.

And I know it's not true because half the damn cookie's right there in his little paw and the crumbs from the other half are smeared all over my little guy's face. 

There are the lies Breah tells me to cause trouble: He's been fucking me since the second day after you sent him back with me.

And I know it's not true because Colt's loyal as hell, but I still call him to threaten a beat down if he ever lets Breah see him naked again, no matter what the circumstances. He could have and should have ripped down the shower curtain to cover himself. Point made.

Then there are the lies Heather tells me to entangle me in trouble: They're threatening to take Garrett from me and kill him.

A year ago, the prospect at the gate called to tell me some woman in a rusted old beater, a baby wailing in the backseat, was demanding to see me, claiming the baby was mine.

After verifying her name, and recognizing it vaguely from an alcohol-fueled week in Sturgis two years ago, I figured it was possible, depending on the baby's age. So I allowed her entrance.

I'd called Scope before she even made it into the clubhouse, and he said he'd meet us at his clinic the next morning to do a DNA test.

When Heather came into the clubhouse, a baby car seat hanging off her arm, her face didn't spark any great memories for me any more than her name did. It was all vague. She was beautiful, that was certain, with a banging body, and I could see how'd she caught my eye for the week we were partying in Sturgis. But she was no one special. She'd been just another bitch I'd fucked.

Except she'd possibly gotten pregnant with my child. Clearly, if her claim was true, a condom had failed since I never went without. I'd been tested a number of times since her -- all of us in the MC got tested twice a year -- and knew I was clean, so that provided me with some relief.

I had her sit down, and she did, putting the car seat at her feet. The baby had stopped wailing since the prospect called and was now sleeping peacefully.

"This is Garrett," she'd said, looking down at the baby, poking at the carrier with her foot. "Your son. He's fifteen months old."

The timeline worked. "So you're saying this is my son, and you're only telling me now?"

"I was, um, actually with a brother in the Lords of Mayhem. We broke up when we got to Sturgis, and then got back together right after Sturgis. There was a possibility the baby was his, so we stayed together," she said, looking down at Garrett. 

"Then two weeks ago, we had a big fight, he demanded a paternity test and it showed he wasn't the kid's dad. So he kicked me out and I came here because," she took a deep breath and looked at me with tear-filled eyes, "when the paternity test came back and he told me to get out, I made a mistake. I told him that if he kicked me out, I'd tell the police where the bodies were buried, that I knew a lot of their secrets and I'd tell them."

I was hoping if the baby truly was mine, he'd inherited my brains because this bitch just proved how colossally stupid she was. I knew of the MC's reputation and she'd lived with them. Their president, Butcher, was not someone to cross. I'd met him twice at Sturgis, at a get together for MC presidents, and had respect for him, if not for the things his MC was rumored to do.

"He flipped out and I barely made it out of there alive. I ran to you after making sure I wasn't being followed. Butch called me on the phone while I was driving here and told me if he ever found me, they'd kill Garrett. They're threatening to take Garrett from me and kill him!" She put her face into her hands and started sobbing. "Please don't let them kill our baby."

"First thing tomorrow, we're going to establish paternity," I told her. "If he's mine, we'll deal with the Lords of Mayhem."

"No!" she said, hysteria in her voice. "Promise me that you won't go to them! Promise me. I've seen Butcher in action and he wouldn't hesitate to kill our baby. How do you think he got his road name? Promise me you won't go to him or let him know where we are! We're only safe here as long as he doesn't know where we are!"

I would never know what prompted me to lie to her. Maybe it was her hysteria, her tears, her fear, maybe something deep inside of me was already wary of her -- but I lied to Heather. "I promise you, if Garrett's my son, I won't go to Butcher or tell him where you are."

She threw her arms around my neck and sobbed. "I've been so scared for the kid."

At that point, I still didn't know what a consummate actress she was, or that everything she'd told me -- except for claiming Garrett was my son -- was a lie.

I put her and Garrett in a small single-wide trailer on the grounds, heavily guarded, and the next day, we went for the paternity test. I didn't see either of them until a week later, when the results came back showing I was the proud papa of a bouncing fifteen-month old baby boy.

At that point, I moved them into my house, giving Heather one of the guest bedrooms and creating a nursery for Garrett in the largest guest bedroom. Because of the potential threat against Garrett from the Lords of Mayhem, I put two men in my house and six surrounding it at all times. My house had security cameras hidden everywhere, inside and out, so it felt safer than the trailer I'd had them in.

That left me free to take off by myself one day after paternity had been established for the four hour drive to pay Butcher a much-needed visit. Only Colt knew where I was going, and although he'd wanted to have my back, I refused, knowing Butcher would respect a lone man walking into the lion's den. Whether I came out alive was a worry for another day. I was either going to leave there in pieces or with the assurance that my son was off limits. He was known as many things, but above all he was known to be a man of his word.

Their prospect guarding the gate let me through after clearing it with his president. I backed my bike into an open space and strode into the clubhouse, looking for my prey.

Butcher was standing at the bar, beer in hand and eyes on me. I walked right up to him and drew my gun so fast I had it under his chin before he could blink.

"You even think about touching one hair on my son's head, and I'll destroy you and your entire MC."

I knew at the moment there were about twenty guns drawn on me, but I didn't give a damn. Butcher looked at me, his eyes giving nothing away. 

"Put the gun away, Gabe. We got some shit to discuss." Then he said in a louder voice to his men, "Stand down."

After I put my gun away, we went into his office and discussed some shit.

When I walked out of that clubhouse and returned to mine, the only clue I gave that anything had happened was the standing order that a brother was to be with my son at all times, and he was never to be left alone with anyone but me. I was the only one -- the only one -- who could rescind that order.

Not even his mother could. 

And after that meeting with Butcher is when the lies really began.