by Brook Wilder
“Are you all right?” he asked, eyeing me. “I mean, you have to carry my kid for eight months. Are you up for that, Leigh?”
His kid. My hand strayed to my stomach once more, as it had ever since I had taken that first pregnancy test. I was carrying Jonathan’s kid. “Are you okay with it?” I asked instead. “I mean, this wasn’t the plan.”
His gaze softened. “Yeah, I’m good with it.”
I gave him a tentative smile. He was being really great about this, far more than I could have ever asked.
Maybe this would work.
The nurse came in and gave me my paperwork, giving me and Jonathan the okay to leave with the promise of returning in a few weeks for an ultrasound. I walked out into the bright sunlight beside him, not quite sure where we go next. “So,” Jonathan said as we reached his bike. “You hungry?”
“What?” I asked.
He grinned. “You know, like food?”
I swallowed the emotional lump in my throat. “Sure, that sounds good.”
***
An hour later, Jonathan walked me into my house, my stomach full of a greasy burger and fries.
Well, maybe that and a chocolate shake too.
Inserting the key into the lock, I pushed open the door, yawning as I did so. “I do have to admit, I’m a heck of a lot more tired these days.”
Jonathan walked in behind me, shutting the door firmly. “I think that’s expected. The baby is sucking out all of your energy like a vicious mosquito.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good analogy for our kid,” I laughed, throwing my purse on the table.
“Well it is to me,” Jonathan grinned, sitting on the couch. “Come here.”
I obliged him, sitting next to him on the couch. Before I could fathom what he was doing, Jonathan had turned me sideways and pulled my feet into his lap, flipping off the flats I had on. “I hear that foot massages keep you in a good mood when you are pregnant,” he said, his thumb pressing on my arch.
I moaned and fell back on the couch. “I think you might be right.” His hands, oh they felt so good.
He chuckled, kneading my arch. “I’m gonna be here, Leigh, for whatever you need. I don’t want you to think that you will go through this by yourself. I’m gonna be a good father.”
His words tugged on my heart. “Thank you.”
“For impregnating you?” he joked. “Wow. I don’t think they make a greeting card for that.”
I leaned up and hit his shoulder lightly. “You are being too much tonight.”
Jonathan hit a pressure point and I sighed, leaning against the couch. “I got the job at the high school.”
His hands stopped their wonderful massaging. “Really?”
I nodded. “I told them that I might be pregnant, and they said it wouldn’t be an issue for me to start after the baby was born.” I hadn’t believed they would give me that option, but I had rocked the interview and they wanted me regardless of this small hiccup in my plan.
He resumed his foot massage, moving to the other foot. “That’s great, Leigh. I’m happy for you. I know you wanted that job.”
“Yes, I did,” I answered. My life was looking up. My dream job was secure; I was about to bring a child into this world; and I had a caring—well, I wasn’t sure what to call Jonathan.
Jonathan stopped after a moment, tugging me close until I was tucked against his chest. I breathed in his scent, feeling safe and secure in his arms. “I want to give this a shot,” he said, his chest rumbling with each word. “I want to see where this thing goes with us, Leigh.”
I did too, so very much. Forget who he was, who I was. We were about to be parents and that was all that mattered.
Plus, I had missed Jonathan. When he wasn’t around, I did feel like a part of me was missing. “I do too,” I finally said, looking up at him.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Good, because you have no choice. You’re stuck with me, Leigh.”
I just shook my head, a smile playing on my lips. “Heaven help me then.”
“Darling, you are gonna need more than heaven with me.”
Chapter 9
Two Tone
I climbed off my bike and pulled my sunglasses off, squinting at the bright sun. Damn, we needed some rain. The temperature was hot, like hellfire hot, and everything was dying.
Not only that, but it was fucking hot riding the bike in this weather.
Walking into the clubhouse, I was greeted with a cold rush of air, nodding to a few of the Jesters that eyed me. None would outright say it, but I knew I still wasn’t trusted after my short involvement with Mac.
I didn’t regret many things in my life, but my time with Mac I regretted heavily. He had said all the right things, made us feel like we could be the premier Jesters club.
In the end, he had been feeding us line after line of bullshit. Because of my involvement, I was still the enemy.
That was why I had to kill Mac. That was why I had to end this and try to put some things back to rights.
I walked down the hall to Chains’ office, pulling up short as I heard his raised voice. “I fucking know! This shit, I’m trying my best, all right?”
“I didn’t ask for this.”
Widow’s voice. I would know it anywhere.
“I didn’t say you did. Do you think I want my fucking club in this shit?”
“What about my club?” she shot back, anger evident in her voice. “It’s all about the Jesters. It always has been!”
“This isn’t about the damn past!” he yelled. “And don’t you think for one fucking moment that I am choosing the club over you, over us!”
“That’s what it feels like again.”
I leaned against the wall as I heard the angry footsteps coming my way, attempting not to look like I had heard the entire conversation. Widow passed me, skidding to a stop as our eyes met. I saw the shadow of unshed tears, realizing I had never seen her like this before. “You,” she seethed, poking her long- tipped nail in my chest. “This is all your damn fault.”
“No,” I said softly, treading on my words carefully. “It’s Mac’s fault and I am coming for his ass; I swear it to you both.”
Her lips parted and I waited for the tirade of words she was going to assault my ears with.
But it never came. “You better,” Widow finally said before brushing past me and disappearing from sight.
Surprised, I pushed away from the wall and continued my trek to Chains’ office, finding the club president slumped in his chair, looking like his best friend had died.
I eased into the chair on the other side of the desk, stretching out my legs before me. “You know no one said it was gonna be easy.”
He let out a tortured laugh. “I don’t want it to be easy. Hell, that would be fucking boring. I just want it to be back the way it was, before all this shit happened and my wife—”
He couldn’t go on and I just sat there, feeling the tension and concern in the room. I felt sorry for Chains, knowing that he loved Widow. They had been through so much and it wasn’t good that the two presidents were at odds.
Finally, he cleared his throat, looking at business. “I got something for you to do.”
I sat up straighter in the chair. For weeks I had just hung out around the clubhouse, sometimes following up on a lead that went nowhere. I was tired of dead ends, false claims, and the sense of failure every time I came back to this clubhouse.
I wanted blood.
“I’m sending you and Halftrack to a potential meet that Mac might be at,” Chains continued. “You know what to do.”
I stood. “Yeah. I hope to give you his head this time.”
Chains’ hard gaze never wavered. “See that you do.”
Halftrack was at the bar when I exited the office, half of a beer still sitting in front of him. I hadn’t had many dealings with the biker and I imagined this wasn’t because Chains felt like I needed any help. “You ready?”
He gri
nned, draining the rest of his beer before sitting it back on the bar top. “I was born ready. Lead the way.”
We rode out on our bikes to the location that Chains had given Halftrack, parking a ways away from the spot. “Rumor has it that there’s gonna be an exchange of either drugs or women,” Halftrack explained as I checked my weapons. “I don’t know how many there’s gonna be, but if there are women …”
“Then we get them out of here safely,” I finished for him, thinking of Leigh. While I had seen some shit in my lifetime, the one thing I didn’t like to see was women or children being traded like animals. Their fate was always going to be death in one manner or another and just hearing Leigh’s story had given me a new perspective on getting the innocent back home safely.
He held up his hands. “Whatever, man.”
I rolled my shoulders, itching for a fight. Maybe it was because I was just tired of chasing after Mac. Hell, I wanted to be back with Leigh, watching as she changed through the weeks with my kid in her belly.
Now that was a reason to smile.
It wasn’t long before a few trucks pulled up to the meeting point and I grabbed my guns, noting that Halftrack was doing the same. There was a nagging feeling, a small one, in the back of my conscience that I was going in with a fellow biker who might not have appreciated my involvement with Mac. Hell, I didn’t even fully trust Chains, knowing I had helped wrong the hand that fed me.
The only person I could trust was myself and while I could play nice with others, I wasn’t about to let my guard down.
Silently, we crept down to the waiting trucks, positioning ourselves behind a large outcropping of rocks that would give us a good vantage point to pick off the others. “I’ll pick off the ones over there,” Halftrack said softly, nodding toward one of the trucks, where two cartel members were piling out.
“I’ll take this one,” I said, holding my breath and hoping that Mac would step out.
When another familiar former Jester did instead, I blew out a frustrated breath. “Take them down.”
Halftrack started firing his gun, taking down the two cartel members before I could take my first step. I started firing, pinning the biker against the truck until I could reach him myself, taking out one of his legs so that I could eliminate the threat.
He went down with a cry, but I was all over him, putting my boot in his chest while leveling the gun in his face. “What is in the truck?”
“Fucking Two Tone,” he spat. “I should have known. Sorry to say I’m not Mac.”
So, Mac did know I was coming after him. Good. “No, you’re not,” I said. “Just another deserter that won’t live past the next ten minutes or so.”
To my surprise, he laughed. “Yeah, well, at least I died knowing what side I was on. The same can’t be said for you, Two Tone, or should I call you Two Faced instead?”
“Ouch, that hurt my heart,” I said in a mocking tone. “One more time. What’s in the truck and where is Mac?”
He stared at me defiantly. “Your days are numbered.”
His face exploded, splattering blood all over my boot. “Yeah, yours were too,” Halftrack stated, tucking his smoking gun into the holster.
I eyed him. “Why the hell did you do that?”
He shrugged. “I got tired of hearing him run his mouth. See if he has a phone. I am going to check the truck.”
Disgusted that I had brain matter splattered all over my fucking boot, I crouched down and searched his pockets, finding a phone in his jeans. Lighting up the screen, I realized he didn’t have it password protected.
Finally.
“Heroin,” Halftrack called out, shutting the rolling door. “Should make a pretty penny.”
I held up the phone. “Unlocked phone. I think I win.”
Halftrack grinned at me, giving me a thumbs-up. “Time to go to work, man.”
Together we made quick work of the bodies, piling them into one of the trucks while transferring the goods to the other. I was glad not to find any humans in either, only drugs and money, which would benefit the club in terms of much needed funds.
Afterward, we climbed into the cab and started toward the clubhouse, leaving our bikes for now. The drugs and money were way more important. I thumbed through the phone contacts, grinning as I found only two numbers in the contacts. One had to be Mac’s. I would bet this entire payload on it.
There was more. The maps had four addresses that had been searched, four different locations that were likely drop points.
Or meeting spots.
Holy shit.
“See anything?”
“I think we got his number,” I answered, holding up the phone. “And a few GPS locations.”
Halftrack grinned. “Hell yeah. That’s what we need.”
It didn’t take us long to get back to the clubhouse, pulling the truck behind the building so that it could be unloaded as discreetly as possible. We weren’t stupid. There were CIA, FBI, local cops, you name it, watching the clubhouse, waiting for the best possible moment for them to catch us in the act of something illegal.
The lawyers we had on retainer were damn good about finding the loopholes and flaws in their investigations, so much so that we hadn’t been busted for months.
Both Halftrack and I climbed out of the truck and walked inside, taking the back way to Chains’ office. “What did you get?” he asked the moment that we walked through the door.
I threw the phone on his desk, a grin on my face. “Contacts and GPS locations.”
“You’re shitting me,” Chains said, picking up the phone.
“Oh and at least fifty thousand in heroin,” Halftrack chimed in, leaning against the wall. “And a hundred grand in cash.”
Chains whistled, a grin splitting his face. “Sounds like you boys had a good day then. Halftrack, take the phone to Sabs and see if she can do anything else with it. I want to fucking know where Mac is going to be next.”
“Got it,” Halftrack said, grabbing the phone and fist bumping me before walking out of the office.
I turned to Chains, knowing I had to tell him about Leigh and the baby. “I got something to tell you.”
He arched a brow. “What?”
“I’m—the girl I’ve been sleeping with—it’s Leigh Greene.”
Chains fell back against the back of the chair. “You’re shitting me.”
I grinned, unable to help it. “That’s the second time you’ve said that in the last five minutes.”
“Leigh Greene?” he asked. “That Leigh Greene?”
“Yeah,” I stated. “That Leigh Greene. She’s also pregnant with my kid.”
Chains stared at me, clearly surprised, and I waited. Yeah, I had felt the same way when the doctor had confirmed it, along with the ultrasound showing the small peanut in her stomach. Honestly, I still couldn’t believe it, but with each passing day, I found myself looking forward to being a dad.
Which meant I had to keep my ass alive.
“Hell, man,” Chains finally said. “Congrats.”
“Thanks,” I answered. “I just wanted to tell you that once I kill Mac, I won’t be taking any risks like that for a while.”
“Understood,” Chains said, swallowing. “A kid. Man, that’s something special.”
I felt the same way. By backing off, I could make certain that I would see my kid born. Suddenly there was so much to live for in my life, so much that would give me a future that I didn’t think I would ever have.
I had to make sure I was there.
Chapter 10
Leigh
I grinned as I removed the stethoscope from my ears, not believing what I had just heard.
My child’s heartbeat, sounding like the furious beating of a hummingbird’s wings fluttering around in my stomach. It was, well, there were no words for what I had heard.
It made it unbelievably real to me.
Sighing, I laid the new piece of equipment aside, looking at the clock on the wall. I couldn’t wait to share i
t with Jonathan. He had texted earlier, stating that he was wrapping up at the clubhouse and would be over soon with dinner.
I, for one, was super glad he was bringing food home. I had gone from throwing up everything in my first month to starving in my second. If this was going to be a common occurrence throughout this pregnancy, I was going to be as big as a house by the ninth month.