Viking (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 2)

by Kylie Hillman

  What a strange night I’ve had.

  My best friend is pregnant to an outlaw biker.

  Jealousy, an emotion I’m not well acquainted with, reared its head and I almost made an idiot of myself over a boy who sees me as nothing more than a temporary distraction.

  And, I lied to my daddy, even though I know he’s going to be severely disappointed in me when he finds out the truth. Colleen’s pregnancy isn’t going to stay secret for long and I have every intention of being the best support I can be until I leave for France—whether my dad and Sergeant Lucian like it or not.

  SEVEN

  Vic

  “I think I fucked my cousin last night,” Paddy declares as he bounces into the Shamrocks Clubhouse.

  “I did try to warn you,” I reply. Even though we’re now full-patches, it’s still our job to clean up the bar after last night. Until now, I’d been the only one here doing it, and I was beginning to become rather irate at the conspicuous absence of my friends.

  Paddy roots around the fridge, crowing like a victorious knight returning from the Crusades when he emerges with a bottle of his favourite beer. He pops the top open on the edge of the bar, the cap falling onto the floor, and tilts his head back to drain the bottle in one go.

  “Seriously?” I lean down and pick up the bottle top. Tossing it in the closest bin, I jab him in the gut on my way past.

  Beer gushes from his mouth. It lands on the bar I just finished wiping clean. Paddy dabs his mouth with the back of his hand and glares at me.

  “What the fuck?”

  I toss a cleaning rag in his face. “Exactly. What the fuck, dude? How come I’m the only one here cleaning up this pigsty?”

  He doesn’t argue, snatching the rag and cleaning up his beer mess. “I dunno, Vic. Haven’t see no one since last night. Fuck, I woke up at Grinder’s house and almost had to chew my arm off to get it out from under Amanda without waking her. My morning has sucked donkey’s balls so far.”

  “Angela.”

  Paddy lets out one of his booming laughs. “Yeah, whatever. Amanda or Angela. Who cares. Alls I know is I think she’s my cousin and I can’t remember if I fucked her.”

  “She is your cousin. You kissed her in front of everyone last night. I don’t know if you fucked her because I split early with Bonnie,” I impart as much information as I think the big idiot will understand in his hungover state.

  If he hears me, he doesn’t show it. Instead he latches onto the mention of Bonnie and goes off on one of his monologues about what he’d do to her if he could get his hands on her.

  “Mmmm mmm,” Paddy moans. “That girl of yours is the finest piece of arse this side of the Atlantic Ocean.”

  I don’t bother to correct him with the knowledge that the Atlantic doesn’t border any part of Australia.

  “If she was such a hoity toity little snob, I’d show her how a real man would make her feel. She’d come like a geyser once I got my cock inside her. She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on picking your limp dick over my massive man meat.”

  I take no offence to his shit talk. He can say what he likes about me. I’m still fucking Bonnie and he’s not. Plus Bonnie has already told Paddy where to stick his offer so I don’t need to put him in his place. I’m not gonna fault a man for dreaming. She is every bit as fine as he thinks, and so much more. Plus, it’s not my place to defend her honour. She’s not my official girlfriend or on track to becoming my Old Lady—if that was the case, Paddy would be lying on his back with my boot buried in the side of his head.

  While I’ve thrown a stack of bottles in a crate ready to cart outside, Paddy’s moved on to humping the air in front of him. It’s a crude re-enactment of the position I had Bonnie in last night, complete with imaginary arse slaps and all. I ignore him, continuing to clean away the remains of last night, when the front door to the Clubhouse bangs shut behind another new arrival.

  “Oh, yeah, Bonnie. You like that, dontcha?” Paddy’s theatrics are getting louder.

  I glance at the newcomers and freeze on the spot. Brian has arrived, and he’s brought Alanah with him. While Bri isn’t too perturbed by Paddy’s antics, Alanah seems shocked. She ducks behind her brother, who narrows his eyes into a lethal glare at Paddy.

  “Give it a rest, dickhead. Alanah’s here.”

  I’ll give Paddy credit when it’s due. He stops immediately, and I’m surprised to see his face turn red. When Brian approaches with his little sister hot on his heels, my surprise turns to open-mouthed shock to see Paddy reach out and take Alanah by the arm with a kind of gentleness that I can’t reconcile with my bombastic friend.

  “I’m sorry for being a pig,” he says. I move my gaze over his face, searching for any signs that he’s being insincere. I find none. He seems to mean it.

  Alanah regards him with similar intensity, although she doesn’t seem so quick to believe him.

  “If you say so,” Alanah replies. Her curt dismissal is clear to hear.

  Bri attempts to shepherd his sister past Paddy. Our big friend refuses to let Alanah move. He maneuvres her closer to him with infinite patience and leans down closer to her pretty face. I don’t know why I do what I do next, except that it feels like the right thing to do. Without thought, I end up bouncing on the balls of my feet with my hands clenched into fists—almost like I’m priming for a fight.

  A swirling feeling in the pit of my gut screams at me to get Alanah out of Paddy’s grip. That feeling only intensifies when he looks her straight in the eye, and a pretty pink blush crawls from her chest and up her face to settle in the apples of her cheeks.

  “I mean it, Alanah,” he vows quietly. “Sometimes I do stupid shit, offensive shit, without thinking it out. It’s a huge, fucking failing of mine. One I’m well-aware of.”

  Alanah nods. Hell, me and Brian nod too, even though, he’s not addressing us. Paddy’s stating the bleeding obvious.

  Dude’s a dick. We all know that.

  “Any time I do something that scares you or makes you feel uncomfortable, I want you to tell me to pull my head in.”

  Brian snorts, then tries to get Alanah moving again. This time it’s his sister who resists. She shakes Paddy’s hand off her upper arm and stands on her tip-toes. Lying a small hand on his cheek, she pats him twice and smiles.

  “You’re not as scary as you think you are, Patrick O’Brien. But you are thoughtless.” Alanah looks in my direction with sympathy in her expression. “I think you owe Vic more of an apology than you do me. Bonnie is his girlfriend and you were disrespecting her in front of him.”

  Now it’s my turn to feel like an arsehole. I wonder what she thinks about my part in this. I don’t even know what I think about it. Was I complicit in his theatrics since I didn’t tell him to stop? Bonnie made it clear last night that I’m not her boyfriend—fuck I don’t even register in the gentleman category with her. Club rules dictate that she receives no more protection, other than being off-limits to my brothers, until I signal my desire to make her my Old Lady.

  And, that’s not going to happen. She’s leaving at the end of the year.

  Paddy grins at Alanah. It’s not his usual smirk. No, it’s a big, wide, happy smile that makes me think he’s got something going on in that devious head of his. I can hear Brian grinding his teeth from where I’m standing. He’s not pleased by this interplay between our manwhore of a friend and his little sister.

  “I can do that,” Paddy tells Alanah. He lays his hand on top of hers where it remains on his face. “Thank you for being straight with me. You’re the last person I’d ever want to upset so it means the world to me that you feel able to call me out on my bad behaviour.”

  Alanah’s grin is almost as big as Paddy’s. His declaration has pleased her immensely, it would seem. The swirling in my gut has turned into a whirlpool of emotion. Why is Paddy being like this with Alanah? And, how can she eat it up like he actually means it? A dozen thoughts bounce around in my skull.

  One hits harder t
han all the rest.

  Why do I care what Alanah thinks about Paddy?

  “Vic,” Paddy drags my attention back to reality. “I shouldn’t have spoken about Bonnie like that. I won’t do it again. She’s your girlfriend and I should respect that fact.”

  His words sound legit. His tone is sincere. The expression on his face holds no sign that he’s scheming. My gut, on the other hand, it’s twisting in knots and screaming that I’m being played.

  “Not a problem,” I reply.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to correct him about Bonnie being my girlfriend, but I don’t get the chance. Brian has barely kept his shit together throughout this whole scene. Now, he seems on the verge of completely losing it.

  “Let’s go,” he commands his sister in a terse voice. “You need to hang in Dad’s room while we get this shit sorted.”

  He gestures at the mess in the bar, however I get the feeling that he’s actually talking about me and Paddy. Alanah follows him without complaint, although she exchanges another look with Paddy before the door that separates the bar from the sleeping quarters closes behind her and Bri.

  The cleaning rag that I dropped when my body went into fight mode is on the floor by my feet. I lean over and grab it, soaking it in the sink of sudsy water, and resume cleaning the counters. Paddy doesn’t say anything, he scoops up cans from one of the pool tables and adds them to the crate I started filling earlier.

  We work in awkward silence—well, it’s awkward for me, Paddy doesn’t seem affected—until the door Brian left through a few minutes ago slams. Our friend isn’t our friend when he stalks into the bar area. He’s all angry brother, and there’s nothing remotely friendly about the challenge in his red-rimmed, hungover eyes.

  “What the fuck was that?” he questions, pointing a finger at Paddy. “Don’t fuck with me. Alanah isn’t even off-limits to you—she’s off this fucking planet for you. I will kill you before I let you run one of your bullshit games on my baby sister.”

  Inwardly, I smile. On the outside, I try to look like I’m not paying attention to the standoff going on in the same room as me. Apparently, the thought of Paddy with Alanah pisses him off even more than I did last night.

  “And, you,” Brian shouts. I lift my head to look at him. He drills me with a heated gaze that’s filled righteous rage. “Don’t fucking smirk. The same goes for you. I stand by everything I said last—”

  My mouth is in gear before my brain. I cut him off with an irate response of my own. “Yeah, so fucking what? I set you straight last night and I’ll do the same again this morning. You’re not the boss of anyone—even Alanah.”

  Paddy looks between us. He throws his head back and laughs… and laughs… and fucking laughs some more.

  Brian shakes his head at him. He thumps Paddy in the chest, then stalks out of the bar in the direction of his sister. I toss the rag in the sink and brace both hands on the side of the counter. My breathing is rushed, the rhythm all over the place. The moment we’re alone, Paddy stops laughing. He hits me, head on, with a look full of malice.

  I refuse to flinch in the face of his unexpected hostility. Without reacting to my shock, I return his glare with the same level of animosity.

  “Consider this war,” Paddy announces.

  Shaking my head, I hold my hands in the air questioningly. “Why the fuck are we at war?”

  Paddy chuckles. There is no mirth in the sound, just spite. “You know why.”

  “You’re a fucking idiot.”

  He doesn’t respond. Swiping his helmet from the lockers near the exit, he punches the door open. It bounces back, and he uses one hand to hold it ajar. Seeming to concentrate on something outside the Clubhouse, he answers me in a voice filled with challenge. “I saw you last night. You want her, but she’s not yours to have. She’s mine—has been since the day she was born.”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t want a fucking thing.” I question and deny in the same breath.

  “Don’t play coy with me.” Paddy peers back at me with hate in his eyes. “Everyone thinks you’re the good one, but I know better. You’re too ambitious for your own good which I would support because you’re my best friend.”

  “You’re talking yourself in circles,” I sneer. “I think you’re confusing yourself. We’re either at war or best friends. Maybe you need your cousin, Angela to explain the difference to you?”

  As insults go, my jab is pretty pathetic. Except, it’s all I’ve got. Paddy has me in the crosshairs. I can’t challenge a word he says without admitting to wanting shit I shouldn’t.

  “There’s nothing confusing about this,” Paddy says. “Your ambition makes you my direct competition. I can’t take that lying down—best friend or not.”

  “You’ve lost your fucking mind,” I state in a raspy voice. There’s a clawing need to rip his face off that’s closing up my throat. As much as Paddy’s talking in riddles, he’s also confronting me head on.

  You see, I know what he’s talking about, and it’s something he shouldn’t know. Dreams that I’ve never verbalised to anyone—dreams that I refuse to acknowledge in my own fucking head—are at the crux of our standoff.

  “Nah, my mind is perfectly clear,” Paddy retorts. “I just hope yours is too. Because when you come for my club and my girl, you’re going to need more than your usual self-righteous indignation.”

  The door closes behind him, the soft thud acting as more of an exclamation mark than if he’d slammed it.

  Paddy thinks I want to lead the Shamrocks with the current VP’s daughter at my side.

  In my wildest dreams, he’d be right. What man doesn’t want his legacy to mean something?

  Unfortunately, we live in a world where my last name and the actions of my father dictate my future.

  My dreams—secret or not—are no match for the cold, hard reality of my providence.

  My DNA says I’m a lost cause—destined for mediocrity at best.

  Paddy’s bloodline crowned him King before he was even born.

  EIGHT

  Bonnie

  One month later

  “How are you feeling?” I ask Colleen.

  “Like I’ve swallowed a bowling ball.”

  Rolling my eyes at her response, I rub my hands over her stomach. Colleen has always had a little bit of a belly, so her pregnancy isn’t readily apparent unless you know what you’re looking for.

  It’s unfortunate that she’s let Cole talk her into getting married before they tell his parents that they’re about to be grandparents. His mum is really nice, Quinn Blake is solid as hell, and I think Colleen would benefit from their support now rather than later.

  “You’re barely even showing,” I say with more force than intended. When Colleen looks at me with doubt in her eyes, I change the subject as quickly as I can. “Anyhow, let’s get this done. My dad is taking us out for dinner tonight, so I can’t be out for too long.”

  “Gee, we better not keep you from family dinner,” Shari interjects. She coughs, then mutters, “Suck up.”

  “Remind me why you’re here?” I ask. We’re in the bar of the Black Shamrocks Clubhouse waiting for Cole’s mum to finish organising the food for some Club night that they’re having. Once she’s done, we’re heading out for an afternoon of wedding dress shopping. Which is going to get a little uncomfortable, if Shari doesn’t get her attitude right.

  “I was invited, remember?” Shari snarks. “Although, I’m not sure why. It’s not like we’re friends anymore.”

  “Stop being a bitch!” I remonstrate her at the same time as Colleen says, “That’s not true.”

  She simply shrugs, a bitchy but satisfied sneer on her face. She likes to yank our chains, especially when it comes to making Colleen promise that Shari’s still one of us. If I wasn’t certain that Colleen wanted her to stay in our friendship circle, I would’ve kicked her out on her backside by now. Shari is nothing but trouble; on a downward spiral and on the lookout for victims to bring down
with her.

  “Okay, ladies,” Cole’s mum comes out of the kitchen. She pats her hands dry on the front of her dress. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Trailing behind Mrs. Blake, I head off Shari when she tries to get in the back seat of Mrs. Blake’s vehicle. With my shoulder, I herd her toward the front, passenger seat and make sure that Colleen sits in the back with me. When Colleen sits, her little tummy is much more pronounced, a small round ball that can’t be played off as weight gain.

  “Stop being a bitch,” Shari hisses before she takes her seat. “As if I want to make small talk.”

  “Well, I thought it would be better than forcing you to sit with Colleen since you’re still being a baby about your knee.”

  The look Shari gives me could strip paint. I slam the door shut and settle into my seat in the back. Shari can go fuck herself—my allegiance is to Colleen in this situation.

  Mrs. Blake is getting ready for the drive, fussing with her mirrors and muttering about her husband’s long legs while she adjusts the seat, and Colleen takes her inattention as an opportunity to question me about my rearrangement of the seating.

  “What’s that all about?”

  “Hmmm, let me think,” I pretend to contemplate, before I poke her stomach gently. “Maybe that?”

  Colleen looks down and gasps. I don’t know how she’s never noticed how much her belly protrudes when she’s sitting before now, but the shock on her face is hilarious. She sits up ramrod straight and I laugh. Her posture barely makes a difference.

  The baby is making its existence known whether she likes it or not.

  “I think you need to tell her,” I say, tilting my head toward Mrs. Blake. “Your dress will be ruined if you don’t.”

  “Tell me what?” Mrs. Blake asks. She looks at us in the rear-view mirror.

  “Ah, nuh-nothing,” Colleen stammers. Her face turns red and continues to burn while Mrs. Blake regards her with curiosity on her round face.