Scarlett finally spoke when my tears began to subside. “When we fuck up in life, we can’t go back and have a do-over. But what we can do is decide never to do that shit again, and then do everything in our power to do it right from then on. And, Harlow? That’s a shitload of guilt you’re carrying around with you, and I bet it’s not only hurting you, but also your relationship with Scott. You need to get the fuck over that guilt, reposition your lady-balls and move the fuck on. Stop wallowing in that because it’s making you be less than what you are.”
Well, shit…
I raised my brows at her. “Do you always give such blunt and honest advice?”
“Yes. What’s the point in giving advice that’s not honest?” Her eyes didn’t leave mine; it was like she was challenging me to argue with her, but I couldn’t fault her logic.
“True.” I knew she was right, but putting her advice into action was a whole other story, especially when I had another thing on my mind. “My period is late,” I finally admitted the one thing I hadn’t told anyone yet; the one thing I wasn’t sure to be happy or concerned about.
She reached for the mug of tea she’d slid in front of me a moment ago and tipped its contents down the sink before asking, “How late?”
I frowned. “Why did you throw that away?”
“You can’t drink that if you’re pregnant; I don’t know if it would harm the baby or not. How late are you?”
“A week. My period has always been on time, even after my miscarriage it got back on track straight away.”
She sighed like she was frustrated with me. “So you either need to go to the doctor or take a test.” Even her voice held a frustrated tone.
I sat up straight and glared at her. “Why are you sighing at me like that?”
“Because women annoy the shit out of me sometimes. You all make shit harder than it has to be. If your period is late when it’s never late, do the maths and figure that shit out. Don’t just spend a week worrying over it – that doesn’t help you at all.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “Did it ever occur to you that some women might need that extra time to get used to the idea?”
“Did it ever occur to you that that’s a bullshit excuse for not dealing with your problems?”
Annoyance moved me off the stool. Swiping my keys off her kitchen counter, I snapped, “No, it’s not. Women are emotional creatures, and I, for one, need time to process my emotions over stuff.”
As I walked down her hallway to the front door, she followed me. “I know all about emotions, Harlow, and what I’ve learnt through all the shit in my life is that they don’t necessarily serve you very well. Look at the facts instead – they never let you down.”
I didn’t want to spend any more time listening to her advice or getting into an argument with her so I ignored that and kept going. When I opened the front door, I came face-to-face with Griff.
“Harlow?” He seemed confused about my presence.
“Don’t even ask, Griff,” I muttered, and moved past him. I didn’t stop to look back, but rather headed straight to my car. The sooner I got to the café and my mum, the sooner I’d feel better. Between my cold, my worry over Scott and the club, Rogue tailing me, and thoughts of being pregnant again, this day was one I wanted over and done with as fast as possible.
9
Scott
Three Days Later
“Julio is bad news, brother. If I were you, I’d be helping him take his last breath.”
I rubbed the back of my neck as I listened to King tell me what I already knew. Nash, J and I had just arrived back at the clubhouse after our trip home from Adelaide. King had left a message on my phone so I’d called him straight back in case he had some new information for us. All I really wanted to do was get to Harlow – six days without her and I was edgy as hell. “I just got back from Adelaide. Bourne wants us to help him get rid of Julio so he can take over his territory.”
“Why does he need your help?”
“Good question. Says he needs his hands clean to avoid retaliation from Julio’s allies, but I can’t help think there’s more to this I’m not seeing.” My stomach grumbled with hunger and exhaustion washed over me as my mind continued to search for the answer that felt just out of reach.
King remained silent for a few moments and I imagined his mind also looking for an answer. “Bourne’s a sneaky bastard, for sure, but I can’t see how helping him on this could hurt you. From what I’ve learnt of Julio, he’ll work to gather allies in Queensland and eventually that could hurt you, so getting rid of him can only be a good thing. And to have Bourne owe you can never be a bad thing.”
This was the same conclusion I’d come to. “Thanks for looking into it,” I said before we ended the call.
“King had nothing new?” J asked.
“No.”
“Fuck,” J muttered. The three of us were in agreement over our distrust of Bourne and what his true agenda was, and we’d been hoping King would be able to shed some light on it for us.
“Yeah, fuck is about right,” I agreed as we headed inside.
Inside to Harlow.
Club members filled the clubhouse. Four o’clock in the afternoon signalled it was time to wind down for the day - time for a drink with your brothers before heading home to your old lady.
I pushed my way through the crowd, doing my best not to get side-tracked from my end goal, but fifteen minutes later and I was still stuck talking to some of the guys who were anxious to know how our trip had panned out.