Grizz and Kit weren’t in town, so that left another unusual couple. A couple that were even more mismatched than all the others, including her and Anthony.
Lucy Renquest and Jonas Brooks had been together since right after Christy had Abby’s park dedication. Who’d have thought the extremely intelligent girl who spent her time in a lab trying to cure flesh-eating diseases would’ve ended up with an illiterate, murderous biker who’d won the thousand dollars Anthony had offered to the man who filled up the bucket with the most flesh.
Christy shook her head at the memory at the same time Kit returned followed by a nurse who said it was time to take baby Slade back to the nursery. Christy reluctantly handed him over, and when she looked at Kit, her eyes were watery.
“Oh, Christy. Don’t be upset. They’ll be bringing him back, sweetie. Didn’t you tell me Anthony will be here for his next feeding?”
“It’s not that. Something has been nagging at me for a while.” Christy swallowed thickly and said, “I owe you an apology, Kit.”
Kit slowly shook her head, the surprise on her face evident. “An apology?” she asked. “For what?”
“I was nasty and rude to you that day we talked at the biker meeting.”
“No, you weren’t. You were in a lot of pain, and I knew that. No apology is necessary.”
Seven Months Earlier
After arriving at the biker meeting and checking into their hotel rooms, Anthony and Grizz suggested the women rent a car and explore the small town where they were gathered. Besides, they didn’t want their women attending certain parts of the meeting. Even though a truce was called, there were no guarantees a fight wouldn’t break out. Christy and Kit secretly used the time to find a small clinic where they could confirm that Christy was indeed pregnant. Afterward, they picked up sandwiches and found a shady spot in a small park.
Kit gave her friend her undivided attention as Christy poured out her soul. Crying for and with the tormented woman, Kit blew her nose into the last unused napkins that came with their lunch. She’d used a pink bandana to tie around her ponytail and now offered it to Christy to wipe her tears.
When there was nothing left to say, Christy sniffled and asked, “How do you do it?”
“How do I do what?” Kit asked, her tone warm.
“How do you always seem so perfectly put together? I know that you live the same kind of life I live, but you always seem so calm and serene. I just told you a horrifying story of incest, rape and murder. I can see concern in your eyes, but not shock or judgment.”
“What in the world would ever lead you to think I would judge you, Christy?” Kit countered.
“Because I know you go to church. That you’re a person who has faith.” She looked away.
Kit smiled warmly. “Just because I go to church doesn’t give me the right to judge others and shame on anyone who does. Besides, faith isn’t about getting to check ‘Went to Church’ off your to-do list every week. Some of the most faith filled people I know don't or can’t even go to church.” She looked thoughtful for a moment and then added, "And, sadly, a lot of churches are filled with people that have no faith." She paused and then asked, “Now tell me why you think I would judge you?”
“Because I would judge me and so will Anthony. If he really knew, Kit, he would not only judge me, but he would regret the child I’m carrying.”
“You told me how he killed for you, Christy. And not just once. I can’t believe for even a second that Anthony would care about any of your past. I’ve known Anthony for only a few years, but I can tell you he’s exactly like Grizz in a lot of respects. They’re both men who know what they want, and nothing gets in the way of that. Certainly, not your obviously mentally ill father.”
“Exactly, Kit!” Christy said a little louder than she intended. “There is obviously a defect in my genes. Abigail was so ill. What if it’s because there’s something that’s not right inside of me? Something that I gave to her?”
They were sitting side by side on a picnic table bench when Kit leaned close to Christy and took her hand. “You had absolutely no control over any of this, Christy. You need to have some faith in—”
“Your God?” Christy yelled. She jumped up and stood looking down at Kit, her arms crossed and her chin raised. “Where was your God when my daughter died?”
“I guess He was in the same place He was when His Son died,” Kit answered quietly. She looked at Christy with huge, soulful brown eyes. Eyes that were filled with compassion.
Christy looked startled and didn’t know what to say.
“But that wasn’t what I was going to say, Christy. I was going to tell you that you need to have some faith in Anthony and his love for you.”
Christy sat back down, and her shoulders slumped. Kit wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.
“There’s more to it, Kit.” She looked sideways at her friend. “I’ve done things, too. I’ve done horrible things.”
“We all have, Christy,” Kit told her as she pulled her even closer. “We all have, my friend.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Naples, Florida 1985
Nothing causes time to fly by faster than raising a child. Christy breastfed her new baby boy, Christian, and watched from the sunroom as Anthony and three-year-old Slade played in the backyard. Anthony’s long black braid swung from side to side as he chased Slade who in turn was chasing Crook and Esmeralda.
She looked down at her son and noticed that his bright blue eyes had been fixated on her as he suckled. She smiled and stroked his soft cheek. He had Anthony’s dark skin and a shock of wild black hair that a bald baby girl might envy. Seeing his dark cheek against her pale breast reminded her of how different she and Anthony had seemed so many years ago. It had taken Anthony a while to see that the black and white world he’d lived in was filled with more shades of gray than he’d wanted to admit. “The criminal and the heiress sure know how to make beautiful babies,” she said out loud.