Outlaw Virtue (Rough Jesters MC Book 7)

by Brook Wilder

  “I’ve got this,” I growled, the thought of Leigh in any danger pissing me off.

  “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I thought I did too, and I nearly lost her.”

  I shifted in my seat, thinking back to when Widow had nearly died at the hands of the same man that had put Leigh through hell. Chains didn’t know it, but we had far more in common than he realized. “So why am I here instead of there then?” I asked, wanting to not talk about my personal life in case Chains found out who I really was fucking.

  He would likely shit a brick and then give me a lecture about all the reasons I shouldn’t be involved with her.

  “The phone was a good pull,” Chains started, referring to Warhorse’s phone. “Sabrina found a connection between the wallet and the numbers located there. It looks like our friend Mac is taking our agreements with the cartel and running with them.”

  Shit. That meant that the cartel would be more inclined to side with him than with the true Jesters club, especially if Mac could come through with some of the things that we hadn’t been able to. “Any luck finding where he’s located?”

  Chains shook his head. “No, she wasn’t able to pinpoint any locations, nor was the number Warhorse called a few times still in service. I’m sure Mac is aware of his death by now and is moving on.”

  Well, hell. I slumped in the chair, wishing that something would have come out of me killing Warhorse. “Sorry, man.”

  “It’s all right,” Chains sighed. “Hell, man, I’m tired of this shit. I want to kill his ass and put everything back the way that it was before.”

  That wasn’t possible. We had already lost too many Jesters to just have everything go back to the way it was. In the past few months I had run up on at least twenty of the deserters, doing exactly what Chains wanted me to do and ending their lives before they could spill the secrets of the true Jesters. If and when this was over with, there would be holes that would need to be plugged.

  Big ones.

  Pushing out of the chair, I wiped a weary hand over my face. “I’ll go crash in the spare for a few hours and then start out.”

  “Thanks,” Chains mumbled, standing. “I think I will go home to my wife, if she will let me in the fucking bed this time.”

  There was no secret that Chains and Widow were at odds for what had transpired with the CIA agent that nearly killed Machine Gun and split the clubs. The Hell’s Bitches were struggling just as much, with two of the top council members out.

  I doubted that Machine Gun was the only reason Widow was making Chains’ life a living hell.

  I walked out of the office and down the hall, where an empty bedroom was. Bikers too drunk to go to their own place or in the case of Machine Gun, who just fucking lived at the clubhouse, stayed in this bedroom. I was grateful it was here tonight.

  Shutting the door, I stepped out of my boots and shed my shirt, falling into the bed with a grunt. It was nothing like the bed I had left with Leigh earlier, making me miss her more than I already did. She would be asleep right now, resting before she went back to school to teach her class yet again.

  It was hard to believe I had the fucking hots for a kindergarten teacher.

  I grinned, thinking back to the first time we had really met, when she hadn’t seemed so terrified in my presence. Leigh had brought cookies she had baked over to my house, presenting them to me as a peace offering for helping her with her mower.

  They were damn good cookies at that.

  But the conversation that day had started this between us. She had slowly come out of her shell, telling me about her time with Walker and how the Jesters had helped save her and rid her life of him.

  She trusted me and had held nothing back, but I was holding back a big secret from her.

  The thought didn’t sit well with me. Maybe I should tell her about the club and my involvement. She was bound to find out eventually. I just—hell, I didn’t want to see the horror in her eyes, or have her push me away once she heard how many men I had killed with the same hands that touched her body carefully.

  I didn’t want to lose her.

  ***

  After a few hours of restless sleep, I climbed on my bike wearily and pointed it toward my hunting ground once more, armed with new information of where Mac might potentially be. Sabrina had dropped it off this morning for me, a few data pings of where some money was being moved, signifying something big was about to go down.

  If that was the case, Mac’s name was likely written all over it and I was ready to find the fucker so we all could breathe just a little easier at night.

  Plus, I couldn’t think of a future until this shit was done and over with. If Mac found out about Leigh, he could use her against me, and hell, I would give my life for her so that she wouldn’t suffer again.

  So, it was best that I keep her my secret from now on.

  The cool morning wind tore at my body as I zoomed out of town, toward the mountains in the distance. Just because she was a secret didn’t mean that she wasn’t always on my mind.

  Chapter 6

  Leigh

  I rubbed my stomach and tried not to think about any sort of food products, looking at the clock on the wall in the process.

  Two more hours. I could do this for two more hours.

  It had to have been something I ate. Last night, I had opted for takeout Chinese instead of cooking something at home when Jonathan was unavailable to hang out with.

  It had to be the Chinese food.

  My stomach rumbled in warning and I waved at my assistant, Becky, who was currently watching the class color their new letter for the week. “I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded, a hint of concern on her face, and I walked quickly out of the room, heading for the bathroom.

  Again.

  Becky had cause for concern. This would be my fourth trip today, and each time I had emptied the contents of my stomach until there was nothing left.

  It had to be the Chinese food.

  Reaching the bathroom, I locked the door behind me before falling to my knees, dry heaving the little bit of ginger ale that I had consumed since lunch. Maybe there was a virus going around, but I didn’t feel feverish or chilled.

  Wiping my mouth, I looked at my expression in the mirror. God, I looked like I had been hit by a truck. No wonder Becky was starting to worry.

  Bracing my hands on the sink, I fought against another wave of nausea. What if it wasn’t the Chinese food? What if it was something else, something I hadn’t thought about until this very moment?

  Frantic, I started searching my memory for the last date of my period, realizing I was two weeks late already. With everything going on with the interview and with Jonathan, I hadn’t given it two thoughts.

  I was late. I was never late. I was one of those clockwork every-month-type girls.

  “Oh God,” I said, slumping against the cement wall. I couldn’t be pregnant! This wasn’t the plan, not now, not for at least five more years.

  And especially not with Jonathan. It wasn’t anything against him personally, but I knew, I mean I thought I knew that this wasn’t any more than just a fling between us.

  If it was, we hadn’t said it.

  I reached down and touched my still-flat stomach, my hand trembling. What if there was a child growing inside me? It could only be Jonathan’s. He was the only person I had had sex with for six months or more.

  It didn’t make sense, obviously, for me to be pregnant while being on the pill, but it wasn’t one hundred percent effective.

  Plus, the condom had broken a few times, but I hadn’t worried because I was taking the birth control.

  Apparently, I should have paid more attention in sex education.

  Pulling out some paper towels, I soaked them under the steady stream of water coming from the faucet before patting down my face, even pinching my cheeks to put some color in them. I had to get through the rest of the day and then I would be heading to the drugstore ASAP.

  I h
ad to know for sure, even if there was a sinking feeling that I already knew what was going on with me.

  ***

  I didn’t even wait my customary hour after my class went home, grabbing my things and heading out before anyone could stop me. Thank God I didn’t have car-line duty today or it would have been a mess!

  Climbing into my car, I started the engine and drove straight to the drugstore near my house, slinking down the aisle with the pregnancy tests. How many times had I come in here to pick up condoms?

  Why were they all in the same aisle? Was it like an omen or something?

  Or was this their cheap trick to promote safe sex? Well, I hated to tell them that even with doing everything possible, you could still get pregnant.

  On the verge of a mental breakdown, I grabbed five different tests from five different companies, pushing them all into my basket. I wasn’t going to rely on just one to tell me what could quite possibly change the rest of my life.

  Luckily, there was a college student working the register today and not the normal person, who had seen me come in for various things over the last year or so, though she still arched her brow at the sight of the tests in my basket. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “No,” I snapped, pushing my card into the reader. I couldn’t emotionally deal with this! I couldn’t be pregnant, not now! Everything was going so well. My potential new job, Jonathan, my house. I couldn’t bring a child into this world!

  It wasn’t long before I was at my house, cloistered inside the bathroom as I opened the first package. The instructions were easy enough. Pee on the stick, read the words as early as one minute.

  Piece of cake. When it came back negative, I was going to have the biggest glass of wine I could find.

  After doing the deed, I set it on the counter, biting my lower lip as the bars started to flash. Sure, I wanted kids.

  But I also wanted a husband and a stable home first. I was a traditional girl, wanting the ring on my finger and the marriage license signed before I even started thinking about children.

  Why had this happened with Jonathan and not Brad? Most of the time he was too drunk to perform, which was where the beatings started, but we did have sex, both with and without a condom.

  Not once did I have a scare like this.

  I could thank my lucky stars for that, I guess. Bringing his child into the world would not have been the happiest time for me or the poor innocent child. Likely he would have eventually killed us.

  The screen started to flash, and I held my breath, willing it to read “not pregnant.” I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I barely had my stuff together now as it was.

  When the words showed up, my knees buckled and I lowered myself to the floor, taking the stick with me.

  Pregnant.

  Oh my God, I was pregnant, at least by this test. I wanted to shake it like a Magic 8 Ball, make it say something else other than that one, singular word.

  This was a game changer.

  And the father? What was he going to think? I didn’t know Jonathan well enough to know if he was going to be happy or force me to give the baby up.

  I wasn’t about to have an abortion. I had laid in this bed and now I would accept the consequences, father or no father.

  A bubble of laughter escaped me, and I covered my mouth, feeling like I was about to lose it. Laid in the bed. That was exactly what I had done and by doing so, I had caused this to happen.

  At least I could maybe afford a child. If Jonathan went running for the hills after I told him, well, I could support myself and a baby. I wasn’t about to pester him for child support or anything like that. We hadn’t planned this, nor had we made any designs on each other than sleeping together.

  I wasn’t about to make his life miserable as well, or stick us in a relationship that would likely fail in the long run. Some would call me stupid, but I would much rather be a single mom than try to make it work with the baby’s father.

  But I still had to tell him. While I wouldn’t ask for anything, I wasn’t going to hide the news from him either. Jonathan could want to be in his child’s life, and it would be wrong for me to keep that from him. I knew about his family life, how he didn’t have a stable childhood or even parents who gave a damn about him.

  Maybe he would feel like this was a second chance to care about his own child.

  Leaning my head back on the wall behind me, I thought about how the conversation would go. How did women do this? There would be no cute reveal as this was clearly not something we had planned to happen.

  No, I would just come straight out with it and let him know that I planned to keep the child, provided it survived the first few weeks. Miscarriages happened all the time and I had read that women who had never had a pregnancy before were more susceptible to having them.

  I didn’t want that to happen to me, nor would I wish it.

  My phone buzzed in my purse and I fished it out, wincing as I saw Jonathan’s text. Normally I would feel all giddy inside about seeing him tonight, but this time, there was a sense of dread flowing through my veins. What he didn’t realize was that this was going to be a dinner that he wouldn’t forget anytime soon, and neither would I.

  Firing off a response, I set the test back on the sink and pushed all the others in the bag for later. Maybe I would wait a day or two and take another test to be sure.

  Chapter 7

  Two Tone

  Leigh was being weird.

  I watched her through my hooded gaze as she pushed the spaghetti around on her plate, not bothering to take a single bite. Normally she would have already cleared half of it despite her animated conversation with me about her day, but she had done neither.

  And it was fucking eating me up inside. What had I done wrong? What had she heard?

  Was she tired of this thing between us and ready to move on with someone else? I hadn’t staked a claim on her, giving her no inkling that I was interested in a real relationship.

  What if it was too late?

  I didn’t want to give her up. She was perfect for me, the woman that gave me a reason to come home every night and to try not to get myself killed. I was more cautious because of her, more willing to back off when I would have taken risks in the past.

  Hell, I probably even loved her.

  The thought hit me square in the chest and I momentarily forgot to breathe. Did I love Leigh? I didn’t like when we were apart and my heart always relaxed a little when I saw her face, the smile she held just for me.

  Maybe it was time to tell her I wanted this thing to be real. “Leigh.”

  She looked up and I saw the conflicted emotions in her eyes, scaring me shitless. “Are you okay?” I asked instead. “Did you get word from the job?”

  She shook her head, her eyes glimmering with tears.

  Well, shit. I hated when she cried. “What is it?” I urged, steeling myself against whatever she had to tell me. I was a grown-ass man. If she was about to dump me, I could take it.

  I would drink myself into oblivion later on, but I could take it.

  “I-I don’t know how to tell you this,” she said quietly, placing her fork on her plate and not meeting my eye. “I really don’t.”

  “Just say it,” I said in a low tone, shaking off the sense of dread that had stolen over me. “Get it off your chest.”

  She was going to dump me. Leigh had probably realized she could do a hell of a lot better than my ass and was trying to let me down easily.

  I should have known better than to think I was good enough for her.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  My thoughts ceased to exist, and my mouth dropped open. “What?”

  She raised her eyes to meet mine. “I’m pregnant, or at least that’s what the first test told me. I thought I had a virus but, well, it seems it’s going to be a nine month or so virus instead.”

  I just stared at her, my words not forming on my tongue. She was pregnant?

  With my kid? “Are you sur
e?”

  She frowned. “I mean I think so. I’ve been nauseous for the last week or so and the test came back positive, so it’s a good indication.”

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out, feeling like an ass. Of course she was sure. It was her damn body after all. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “It’s a shock to me too. I didn’t plan this.”