Fractured MC (The Nighthawks MC Book 9) Read online

  "Do tell," said Bao, spearing a piece of chicken with her chopsticks.

  "My husband Angelo, may he rest in peace, died when a stone wall fell on him. My boys were never the same. I pushed them too hard, to be strong, to get good grades. They got really sick of me in high school. Then, Miko got hurt, and Nico and I got in a terrible fight. He told me I was hurting Miko by doing everything for him, by excusing his using drugs in a way that was killing him. He told me to start going to Al-Anon or Nar-Anon meetings or he would never speak to me again. They're for the families of people addicted to alcohol or drugs. I went, and Miko got clean for a while, then he got in deep. I bounced back and forth between trying to control his using, and struggling to let him go. To this day, I don't know if I killed my son." She wiped her eyes.

  "The disease killed your son," said Bao, and held her hand. "I wish your husband and son could be at the wedding."

  Stella smiled through her tears. "I know. I am sorry too." She wiped her eyes. "But, Marco can. I know it makes Nico crazy, because I'm ten years older than him, and he's a firefighter, and we want to adopt kids. I couldn't have more after Miko, and then Angelo died, then Miko. I can't keep living in this bubble, my eyes on the past. I want more kids. I got pregnant with Nico at seventeen, married at eighteen. I want more kids while I can still chase them."

  Bao reached out, held her hand. "So do I."

  Stella wiped her eyes with her free hand. "Then we're agreed." She laughed a little. "Let's get our kids at the same time. Break Nico's brain."

  Bao laughed. "Too late," she said. "It's why I'm having the wedding in only a week."

  Stella's eyes grew round, then she jumped up, ran over, and hugged Bao. Bao laughed, and hugged her back. "I'm gonna be a grandma!" she announced to God --and everybody.

  The people at the neighboring tables clapped. Stella sat down, and so did Bao, hiding her eyes in embarrassment.

  "Does my son know?" asked Stella.

  "No," said Bao. "I planned to tell him at dinner, tonight."

  "Do you have reservations?" Bao shook her head no. "Then, I've got the best dinner date ever --for you."

  Nico found himself in a gray suit and tie. His mother had told him "Dinner at Marco's, seven o'clock, don't be late."

  He had to rush home from work on his own house, getting it ready for habitation, even the baby room so the "twins" could sleep over. He nearly went insane trying to go between vivid Italian colors and Chinese red and gold, and went for butter yellow in the kitchen, blue in the living room, Chinese red going up the stairs, a soft tan in the hallway, and Chinese gold in the bedroom, with one red wall. The babies' room was a sunny, cheerful yellow, the color of a Tuscan sun. The downstairs playroom was a blue, and the girls' room was their favorite color; lavender, with sleeping pods and all. He showered in the one working shower, dressed as he'd moved in to where he worked, and drove to the restaurant.

  Bao had her glossy black hair in a Chinese twisted bun. Nico smiled. He loved finding the pins and taking that hair down. She wore a blue silk suit. Her motorcycle jacket was over her chair.

  He sat down, and helped Bao nibble on the antipasti. "I know I already asked you to marry me. Why am I wearing a suit? Um, and why do you have on that gorgeous suit you're wearing? And Marco's is the most amazing restaurant." She smiled. The waiter came by with a glass of his favorite merlot. Bao stuck with her lemon San Pellegrino. "You look like a kid at Christmas. What gives?"

  "I am being an inscrutable Chinese person," she said, and made a stone, Chinese face. She then marred it with a smile.

  "What?" asked Nico. "I'm dying here."

  Bao smiled, then handed over a small white folder. He opened it, and took out the small black-and-white pictures. He stared at her, then the pictures, then at her again, his jaw on the table. He stood up, went over, and hugged her to him.

  "Thank you," he said.

  She smiled at him, disentangled him, and said, "Sit. Your mother went insane planning this meal."

  He kissed her deeply, then sat. When the waiter came back, he said, "Please give the mother of our child anything she wants." He held up the tiny ultrasound.

  "I will," said the waiter. "Marco will be so pleased."

  Marco, the owner, came out, kissed them both on the cheek, and took them back to the kitchen for a special chef's meal in the busy kitchen. One of baked lobster ravioli adorned with fresh crabmeat and shavings of romano cheese, amazing fresh bread with olive oil --and ground pepper for dipping, and tiramisu for dessert. They swooned over every bite, and soon they were riding home.

  They went to the new house. He was so happy he'd done the bedroom first --for himself, primarily, but now he would reap the benefits. She took off and hung up her suit, put away her black boots, and took off her socks, leaving on a creamy-ivory satin bra and panties, with bare feet. She took off her diamond earrings, but left on her golden torc necklace and bracelets. He shed his suit as well. He took out the pins in her hair, one by one, then kissed her as if he would never stop. She pushed against him, came up for air, and kissed him again. He attacked her delicate throat, nibbled her ear lobes. She clawed his back, then walked her way down to him, and pulled off his boxers. He stood there, ready for her, as she stripped off her bra and panties.

  She laughed. "No condom tonight," she said.

  He pulled her onto the bed, and kissed her from earlobe to thigh, then back up, stopping at each breast to suck and lick. Soon, she came, and was gasping, before he'd even touched her in between her legs. He separated her knees, kissed her thighs, and flicked his tongue on her button, the one she called her secret pearl, and made her grab his hair and scream. He grabbed a wet wipe, wiped his mouth, and slid into her. She arched her neck, then her back. He thrust, in and out, going fast, then slow, then fast, and was teasing her. She clawed his back, and he drove himself into her, one last time, coming hard. They laid there on the black satin sheets, panting. He pulled himself out, pulled out wet wipes, and cleaned them both up.

  When she could talk, she said, "What's with the sheets?"

  He laughed. "I thought I'd get lucky. It was worth the extra ten minutes to make the bed, wasn't it?"

  She nodded, then kissed him. "Let's do it again."

  She climbed on top, and kissed his lips, his face, his eyes, stroking him with her gentle touch. She kissed and licked him all the way to his hips, then back up, teasing him until he was able to give her what she wanted. She rode him, her curtain of hair falling down her face, stroking his shoulder with its inky, soft silk. He came with a gasp, and she fell on him, spent. She took out a wipe, cleaned them both up, and did a two-pointer into the trash can.

  "Baby," he said, and kissed her. "You're giving me a baby. For the wedding."

  She looked down at him from under that curtain of hair. "I love you," she said. "I thought it an appropriate present."

  He looked up at her, still unable to articulate much of anything. "Baby," he said.

  She kissed him again. "Sorry we can't make another one just yet, but we can have fun trying."

  He cried and shouted, and held her, and somehow found a way to love her, yet again. They laid there gasping, and were spent, as he fumbled with the wet wipes.

  "We need another baby room," he said.

  "So make one," she said. "Or, we can start hanging kids from the ceiling in hammocks."

  "We need a hammock for the backyard," he said. "Two; one for you, and one for me. Right next to the... swing set! We need a swing set!"

  "Hush," she said, and kissed him. She fell asleep on his shoulder while he was still making lists in his head.

  Nico spent the next day with Tito getting the interior ready. The plumbers had everything well in hand, so the tile went up in the bathrooms --three; one off the master bedroom, one with double sinks, and a half-bath stolen from a closet upstairs, and one half-bath downstairs. They had kids, and were going to need as many bathrooms as possible to accommodate them. Nico envisioned trading off for rides and vacations, so h
e included a baby bedroom for the "twins," a baby room for their own baby, a room for the girls that was long and narrow, and a tiny washer/dryer combo in another closet. This many kids, was bound to generate a mountain of laundry.

  The girls got their individual sleeping spaces, a daybed underneath a sleeping pod that pulled out into a double bed, and storage, shelves, and double desks all along the wall. It was done in a futuristic melamine, the back wall papered with a forest scene, and bean bags down there on the end with lap desks, and, in a corner, the best dollhouse ever. Then, a giant farm with horses and people, and a barn and a main house catty-corner, complete with miniature Harleys Nico had commissioned from Ghost as their moving-in present.

  Ruby and April (new Wolfpack and old) constructed the dollhouse. Henry had seen it, loved it, and helped install it. Damia had seen the room before the big reveal --to get her approval. She wanted the bed closest to the door, and so she could get out when she wanted, more easily. She loved the miniature horses and barn, and asked that her math manipulatives be added to the room, and that she get her own shelves. That was easily done, so Nico knew he was over the biggest hurdle.

  He told Tito about the baby. Tito whooped with him, scaring the guys installing the appliances. The Wolfpack was all over, unpacking dishes, moving in furniture, and wiping or dusting everything with a surface.

  "I need a swing set. Something so sturdy it's never gonna fall down, even in a desert windstorm."

  Tito sighed. "I see more work in my future. Actually, we just need to dig post holes and do a concrete pour, and one or two of my guys supervising the Wolfpack. We can get the holes and pour done today if we know the measurements. And, after it's up, we need to put that squishy stuff in, so the kids don't break something."

  Tito grabbed his laptop, and they agreed on a cedar set with a slide, a fort at each end, swings, a short climbing wall, and two baby swings. Nico whipped out his credit card and ordered it, and Winnie and April volunteered to pick up the set. They took Tito's keys and were off in a flash.

  Tito glared at Nico. "Quit making work for me. Take some of the girls and buy some damn baby furniture and leave me alone."

  Nico used the vacuum on the upstairs rooms until the girls came back with the swing set, and helped them unload and bring it on back.

  "Your deck is going to be here," said Nico, and he used a chalk line to map out where the swing set would go on the rocks and sand. "So, the swing set should be here, where you can look out from the living room, the kitchen, and the mudroom door's window."

  "I agree," said Tito. "And you just saved my ass. Parents need to see what their kids are doing. Now, let's get the posts put together so we can get size and dimension. We got grunt labor; let's use it." He smiled. "I'll get Hymie over here with a post hole digger, a wheelbarrow, and the concrete mix. He's done some of these before."

  "Since there'll be a post hole digger, can we map out the patio now, and dig the holes?" asked Nico.

  Tito pretended to strangle Nico, making him laugh. "Alright, but you've got to take turns digging the holes."

  "Done," said Nico. They shook hands, and Tito pulled up some decks on his tablet.

  "I know most of our clients order wooden, but this is composite material, so no termites, having to refinish it, or any of that stuff. Goes up in just a couple hours. Sold in kits, raised off the ground, so no post holes needed. It's on these little risers, and comes with rails or steps if you want them in the kits."

  "Shut up," said Nico. "You had me at no post holes."

  "Light gray or sandy red?"

  "House is gray with blue trim, so go with the gray." They hashed out the size, and Tito ordered it. Nico handed over another credit card. "Now all I need is some patio furniture. I can go wood or metal... wait, here's some couches, chairs, and a table with blue cushions made out of the gray composite." Nico thought a minute. "No fire pit. I've got one kid with ADD, one with autism, two babies, and an infant on the way." He whipped out the credit card and ordered the set, with delivery in two days.

  "Smart man," said Tito. "You're gonna run out of money, you know."

  "Nope," said Nico. "This here's the joint card with my future wife. We opened a card specifically for house stuff. And, she's making so many contracts right now, she'll have to hire an assistant." He froze. "Where will we put the assistant?"

  "In the home office," said Tito. "There's space in there for three desks, if you use three walls. Buy the filing cabinets that fit under the desks, and shelves for over them."

  Nico groaned, and called up another website. Tito laughed, and went to help the Wolfpack and his guys read the directions on the swing set.

  "Flat screen TVs!" he called over his shoulder. "I can hook you up!" Nico flipped him off, and kept looking for desks.

  Since everyone used laptops, he figured he needed comfy chairs more, and got a big desk with lots of storage underneath, two corner workstations, a shelving unit with a fold-down table, two slim stackable filing cabinets, and the guy they always used for electronics. He had three overstock screens for less than three hundred dollars. He knew his wife would see to more storage. She loved going insane in stores for storage stuff. He bought it for immediate delivery, and went to help with the swing set. He knew better than to buy any baby stuff. He'd get it wrong. He texted Bao to find what she wanted for the two baby rooms, and sent her the dimensions he'd written down during his cleaning phase. Then, he grabbed an electric screwdriver and screwed together a climbing wall.

  Crimson Wedding

  The rehearsal dinner should have been a quiet affair. Since Nico was Catholic, they decided to have a shortened service, minus a lot of the Latin. The Chinese service would be much faster, with the three bows and tea. The photographer would be at both places. The reception hall could accommodate both East and West. The printer that Dragon Mama had promised the invitations to --now had the joy of the red banners for the reception and their new home, as well as the phoenix and dragon (female and male) cutouts. They walked through the Chinese ceremony first, with the kneeling and prayers, done right there in the church.

  Father Daniels said, "God accommodates everyone. So, why make everyone drive around?" Nico and Bao practiced the tea with paper cups, and couldn't stop smiling at one another.

  Then, they practiced the Catholic ceremony. Hu and Grace got to be flower girls, making everyone tear up. Stella had tears in her eyes, and gave Bao and Nico to each other. Dragon Mama kept up an ugly commentary under her breath, culminating in a rude comment about the silliness of a woman giving away both a bride and a groom.

  Bao held up a hand and said, "I'm sorry. One moment." She handed her paper flowers to Callie, and stalked over to her mother. "This fine woman lost a son to drug addiction. He had surgery, and couldn't get off the highly addictive drugs the doctor gave him. She is participating in our wedding, giving me away, because you have been a heartless, cruel person --this entire time, with no happiness for your daughter. There is no dowry, because I have money. My husband is dead, and would want me to find double the happiness, again. Would you lock me away, denying me love for the rest of my life? Is this ugly behavior because he isn't Chinese? We aren't in China, Mama. We've merged the traditions of two cultures in a beautiful way. Either see that, and be happy for us, or get out. I don't want an ugly person ruining my happy, precious day."

  Dragon Mama looked at the pain on her daughter's face, shocked and stunned. Then, she turned, and walked out of the church.

  Hu ran up and hugged her mother. "I'm sorry, Mama."

  Callie came over and hugged both Bao and Hu. "I don't understand Chinese that well, but I understood what she said, and most of what you said. Her behavior is... unacceptable." Then, Bao finally gave in to her exhaustion, at beating her head on the wall of her mother's heart, and cried.

  The day dawned beautifully, the sky gilt with gold. After breakfast, Bao went to Chinatown. Mrs. Chang had her lovely jacket ready, in gold silk shantung, with a faint crane design worked in, a
high collar, and fabric buttons and loops to hold it closed. It looked spectacular. The printer had long since sent the invitations, in English and Chinese, with both her signature and chop, in Chinese gold envelopes that closed with tiny frog clasps. Her husband had personally delivered the American ones, and she the Chinese ones, on their Harleys. The envelopes would double as money envelopes if their Chinese guests would attend. She didn't have a bridal registry. And she wasn't a pig and she already had what she needed --and was wealthy enough to purchase what she needed. She included a faint engraving on the envelope that said in Chinese, "Home-moving fund." The movement of a house from one tract of land was fascinating to Mrs. Chang and many other putative guests, so she included a link to it on the envelope.

  Mrs. Chang loved it. "Ingenious!" she said, brushing imaginary lint off the jacket as Bao modeled it. "I saw the video three times with my daughter." She smiled at the memory. "And the link to the other one; the one blocking the wildlife corridor? My sister in China sent the video to others, and found much information about the wildlife corridors. She says they have already put one under the roadway where ducks cross between ponds. It became a model for several local areas."

  "Does your sister wish to live here?"

  "No," said Mrs. Chang, sadly. Her face brightened. "But her daughter Mei wants to live here and go to college." She changed her voice, ever so slightly. "So many want to go to Harvard or Yale. Mei wants to go to UNLV and study hospitality management, maybe work at a hotel in Macao or Hong Kong."

  Bao handed her a little white card with her chop and telephone number. "There may be a scholarship," she said.

  Mrs. Chang brightened like the sun. "But of course! I had not thought to look into those."

  Bao was sad to slip off the jacket. She would wear it after her wedding, scandalizing to some, but it was too beautiful to only hang in a closet. She thought about Hu's already-funded college fund, and how much her net worth was at the moment, even with a house driving toward them on a truck.