Running Hot (Hell Ryders MC Book 2)

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Running Hot (Hell Ryders MC Book 2) Page 22

by J. L. Sheppard


  Her father’s face flamed. He strode toward the coffee table and dropped his now empty glass on it. It shattered. “Do as you wish, Tiffany. You’re over the legal age, but I’m keeping an eye on your trust fund. When he breaks your heart, don’t tell us we didn’t warn you.”

  With those final words, he strode from the room. After sparing a glance at her mother, she turned on her heel and walked away, the knot in the back of her throat making it hard to swallow. She parted the door leading outside, closed it then looked up. Thomas, as beautiful as she’d ever seen him, well-worn jeans, dark tee, his cut, feet crossed at the ankles, leaned against the hood of her car, head angled down. As if sensing her, he lifted his head. His gaze caught hers. Face a mask, expression blank and unreadable.

  She strode to him and without a word, snaked her arms around his waist. Inhaling the smell of his cologne, she whispered, “You and me today. No one else.” She pulled away but kept her body close, touching his. “I just want to spend the day with you.”

  He smiled a forced smile.

  “How’d you know I needed you?”

  He grinned then. “Wasn’t sure but wanted to be here in case you did.”

  After they dropped off her car at her apartment, he packed sandwiches, chips, and drinks in a bag attached to the back side of his bike. To the other side, another bag, he packed a rolled-up blanket. They rode to the mountain top he’d taken her to once before. There, they spent hours, drinking, eating, talking, and enjoying the view.

  By the time the sun fell marking the end of her twenty-second birthday, he handed her another present, her very own cut with the club’s insignia. On the back, inscribed it read: “Property of Cuss, Hell Ryders.”

  The best present, one of the reasons it turned out to be one of the best birthdays, ever.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Shit. Shit. Shit. This couldn’t be happening to her. It just couldn’t!

  Tears flooding her eyes, Tiffany gripped the edge of the marble vanity in her bathroom. A wave of nausea overwhelming her.

  Such an idiot. How hadn’t she realized it before? She’d been a little queasy every morning that week, and her breasts had grown slightly. Though truth be told, she hadn’t noticed the last part. Thomas did and pointed it out.

  Still, she hadn’t connected the dots, not until that morning. Grocery shopping, she stopped by the feminine product aisle and realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had her period. She hardly ever kept track of it. The daily ritual of taking her birth control pill reminded her when it came. Several weeks ago, she’d been sick and on antibiotics. The doctor warned her birth control pills could be ineffective, so she stopped taking them, and she and Thomas began to use condoms.

  Must’ve been when it happened, how she ended up pregnant. But how exactly when they’d been so careful, she didn’t know.

  Shit.

  What the hell would she do? She had no clue. One thing she knew—her parents would flip. They disapproved of Thomas, making it clear on several occasions and refusing to acknowledge Thomas as her boyfriend. Since her birthday, she’d seen them a few times during their biweekly dinners, and they’d made it clear he was not welcome.

  Wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, she reached for her phone and called the only person she knew could offer some advice.

  “Tina?”

  Tina, Trig’s sister, and she went to high school together. They’d been best friends since the first day her freshman year and remained close friends despite the fact Tina got pregnant and dropped out at sixteen and despite the fact after high school, Tiffany moved away. They didn’t talk as often as Tiffany liked. Honest, Tiffany didn’t confide in her often. This due to the fact Tina had a daughter, Della, worked fulltime, and went to school part time. Tina had real problems, real stresses, and Tiffany hated the thought of adding to her burden.

  “Hey, Tiff, how’ve you been?”

  Loaded question. Before realizing she was late then taking twelve pregnancy tests, all positive, she’d been happy, content, thrilled. Now, she had so many emotions running through her simultaneously, she didn’t know what to say.

  “Are you okay?”

  Was she? She didn’t know, couldn’t even answer. “I…”

  “Tiff? What’s wrong? Should I call Cuss?”

  “No!” Her voice panicked and unsteady. “I…um…sorry…it’s just…”

  Shit. She hadn’t thought of Thomas. Too busy thinking about what she would do, about her parents’ disapproval, she hadn’t bothered to wonder what Thomas would think, how he’d react. No way would this news thrill him.

  She took a shaky breath. “I’m pregnant.”

  Silence.

  After several moments hearing her heart hammering louder and louder, she whispered, “Tina? Are you there?”

  “Yeah, don’t panic. Maybe you’re just late. It happens even to those of us who get our periods like clockwork.”

  Shaking her head as if Tina could see, she swallowed. “No, I’m pregnant. I’m three weeks late. I—”

  “Oh, God, Tiff. Three weeks? And you just realized you were late?”

  Yes, stupid, she knew. “I was on the pill, but I stopped after I got sick since while I was on antibiotics, there was a chance they wouldn’t work. We started using condoms and then…”

  “Have you taken a test?”

  Her throat clogged. Her gaze flew from the positive pregnancy tests scattered on her bathroom vanity to her reflection in the mirror. Face pale, dark circles under her eyes, hair in a messy knot at the top of her head, she looked like she felt, hell. “T-twelve… All positive.”

  Tina sighed. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re pregnant. I think the chances of getting twelve false positives are statistically impossible.”

  She knew, and yet hearing it from someone else made the reality undeniable. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry… I know you have other things to deal with…I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “I’m glad you called, Tiff. Sorry this is happening to you, but so glad you’re talking to me about this. I feel like you hold back, and I know it’s because you think I have a lot going on and…yeah, you’re right. I do. I have a five-year-old, two jobs, and I’m trying to finish school, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be a friend, a good friend. Maybe I’m not the wisest considering I got pregnant at sixteen, but I can still listen.”

  She bit the side of her lip, hating Tina felt that way. “Tina, you’re smart, smarter than me. What you’ve gone through, the hardships made you smarter.”

  She spared a glance at the pregnancy tests, the positive signs, smiling faces, “you’re pregnant” glaring at her. She couldn’t stop looking at them. Her gaze just kept going there, as if she could forget. “It’s just…I’ve never wanted to add onto your stresses, you know?”

  “I get it, but I’m your friend, and I’m here for you. It’s nice to talk to you like we used to. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one blabbing my problems away.”

  After a long moment of silence, Tina heaved a sigh. “You have to tell him.”

  “I know… I’m just…scared.” No, not just scared, terrified. The more she thought about it, the deeper the fear, a knot in her stomach, one that grew and grew, and she didn’t know how to stop it from growing.

  “It’s clear to anyone and everyone Cuss is head over heels in love with you.”

  She wasn’t so sure. He was good to her, the best. And she felt loved, everything he did made her feel it, but he’d never said the words. That hadn’t bothered her before. After all, they hadn’t been dating long, but now that she was pregnant, it was making her doubt him.

  Thomas was a biker, rough around the edges, and had just turned twenty-four. They’d known each other for years, but again, they hadn’t been together long. And while they talked about everything and anything, they never talked about the future, about moving in, marriage, or kids. And why would they, when they were both s
o young?

  “Even if I believed that, Tina, I’m still very aware he’s a man, in his early twenties, and part of a motorcycle club. The chances of him wanting me to keep…” She didn’t know what to call the tiny human growing inside her. Was it a boy? A girl? “…the baby.”

  “You’ll never know until you talk to him.”

  A good point.

  “And Tiff?”

  Her fingers tightened around her phone. “Yeah?”

  “You know Della’s father has never been around though luckily she has a great uncle who spoils and loves her. Still, it isn’t the same. I want the best for my daughter. The best is two parents. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way. That said, I love her, and I wouldn’t change having her for anything in the world. It’s my personal experience. I know as well as you do, you need to make your own. No matter what, remember I’m here for you. You won’t be alone.”

  ****

  The deadbolt on her front door unlocked. Tiffany stilled, her fingers tightening around the knife she held in her hand. As the door swung open, she forced herself to continue her task, chopping garlic.

  He dropped his keys on the counter. His steps drew closer. Then his arms circled her waist, one hand wrapping around resting on the opposite hip, the other settling on her lower abdomen.

  Closing her eyes tightly, she held her breath, hoping and praying he couldn’t sense the life growing inside her. Kissing her neck lightly, he drew away. The heat of his gaze burned her.

  “Something wrong?”

  Setting the knife down, she attempted to pull away from his embrace, but his arms tightened around her, his hand on her belly gripping the skin.

  Damn. He knew something was up. How could he not? Why would she think he wouldn’t? He didn’t miss much.

  She tensed further, holding her breath.

  “Look at me, Tiff.”

  From the sound of his voice she knew he was peeved. In an effort not to make him angry, she angled her head to meet his gaze. He loosened his grip allowing her to turn. When she did, he placed his hands on her hips.

  God, those eyes, that face. He was beautiful. Not just his looks, the man he was, all of him, sheer beauty, and she might miss out on all that beauty. She had no idea how he’d handle knowing the truth, that tidbit of life changing information.

  She couldn’t picture a twenty-four-year-old biker with a baby. Did he even like kids? Did he ever see himself settling down? Had she ruined the chance that woman would be her by ending up pregnant?

  Her legs growing weak, she drew her stare away from his and placed her shaking hand over his heart, feeling it pound against her fingertips. Then she fully leaned into him, swallowing the nausea flooding her. She took a deep, steadying breath, and lifted her head to catch his gaze. Staring into those sapphire eyes, she realized she could never destroy the life inside her, half her, half him.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Her eyes watered. Damn those hormones.

  Immediately, his gaze softened. He cupped her face. “I’ll fix it, baby girl. You know I will. All you gotta do is tell me what it is.”

  The problem lay there. He couldn’t fix this. She couldn’t either. She had to tell him, couldn’t hide this from him, but she couldn’t do that either. She wanted to enjoy all he was, all she enjoyed since they became an item if just for one more night.

  “I-I’m not feeling well.” Part true, though not the full truth. Not only had she been nauseous all day, her jumbling nerves made it impossible to eat.

  His brows furrowed. “Why you cooking then?”

  “I always make you dinner.”

  He glided his hand across her cheek. Then he threaded his fingers through her hair and grasped the back of her neck. “Love that you cook for me ’cause I love it when you take care of me. Plus you’re an amazing cook, but I don’t want you cooking when you’re not feeling up for it. I don’t want or need you doing anything for me when you’re sick. In fact, I demand you don’t do anything for me if you aren’t feeling well. Besides the fact, it’s Sunday. Should be ordering in.”

  She knew he’d say that. He always took care of her, most of the time, in the simplest of ways. Getting her a glass of water before bed because he knew sometimes she woke in the middle of the night thirsty, carrying her to bed when she fell asleep on the couch, bringing her lunch to work. The sum of those small things and the bigger things made her fall a little more for him each day, the reason she wanted just one more night.

  He cocked his head to the side. “You sure that’s it?”

  It wasn’t, but it would be for tonight. “Yes.”

  His hand at her neck squeezed her lightly. He brought her into him. The side of her face against his chest, she fought back tears.

  “What do you wanna eat? I’ll order food.”

  “No, you won’t. Pasta’s done. All I need to do is add the sauce.”

  “Take a seat, baby girl. I got it.” He kissed her forehead then released her and finished dinner.

  After dinner, he told her he’d be heading out of town tomorrow on a guard and wouldn’t be back until Tuesday morning.

  She decided then when he got back, she’d summon the courage to tell him.

  ****

  Antsy and stoked as hell, Cuss had been gone since the morning before. He’d been sent on a guard out of town with Mellow and Strike. One day without her, and he couldn’t wait to set eyes on her. He’d called her three times a day and texted her way more than he wanted to admit even to himself. His brothers spent the entire time busting his balls about it.

  Cuss had it bad, and he didn’t give a fuck. Tiffany was his girl. He loved her and knew deep down, she loved him, too.

  Grinning, he raced to her work. Barely ten in the morning, she’d be busy, but it didn’t stop him. He needed to see her, not only because he missed her like crazy, but because the last night they spent together, she hadn’t felt well. He asked her over the phone if she was better. She said she was but sounded off.

  He hated to think she was sick again. Several weeks ago, she hadn’t been able to hold anything down. The doctor prescribed antibiotics. She missed work and so had he, only to care for her.

  Parking, he headed into the daycare and scanned the large room. The usual noise bombarded him. Seemed they were having free time. The kids were scattered around, some playing with toys, others with books. He caught sight of Miracle, aka Allie, heading his way and lifted his chin.

  “Hey, Cuss.”

  “Hey, Tiff’s—”

  She smiled. “Thought you knew. She’s home sick.”

  His brows drew together. “Sick?”

  “Yeah, she called out. Didn’t sound good.”

  How sick was she? If he’d known, he would’ve come sooner. He would’ve never left. Why hadn’t she told him? Not only hadn’t she told him, but she lied. To him.

  He clenched his jaw.

  Allie chuckled. “Don’t go all angry biker on her. She was probably just looking out for you. She knew you had to work, knew last time you took a week off to look after her, and she didn’t want to make you go through the trouble.”

  He released a breath, some of his anger fading. Nodding, he gave Allie a lopsided grin. “Thanks, Miracle.”

  In minutes, he arrived at Tiffany’s place, unlocked her front door, strode in, and dropped his keys on the couch. “Tiff?”

  He scanned the apartment. From the front door, he could see the living room, beige sectional, blue and yellow cushions, perfectly placed at the corners, television off. He looked to his left, spotting the dining room, table and chairs in place, vase with flowers he bought her days ago sitting in the center. He moved past the dining room into the kitchen. Sink empty, free of dishes, pots, even a coffee mug, coffee maker off, that empty too like she hadn’t made any that morning. Retracing his steps, he strode out the kitchen, passed the dining room, living room, and down the hall toward her room. He spared a glance into the guest bathroom then stopped dead in his tracks.
>
  She sat on the floor, back against the tub, knees tucked against her, head resting on them. The toilet, just an inch away, from the sound had been flushed recently.

  “Tiff, baby…”

  She lifted her head. Pale, dark circles under her eyes, face gaunt, hair in a messy knot at the top of her head, she wore a nighty, so she hadn’t even bothered to change that morning.

  Shit. She was sick, again. Not good.

  He wasted no time stepping into the bathroom, extending his arms, reaching for her. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  She held up her hand, like she didn’t want him touching her, so he couldn’t do anything but stop advancing.

  Not meeting his eyes, she wiped her face then shook her head. “No, I don’t need to.”

  Of course, she needed to! About to argue, but she beat him to it.

  “I n-need to tell you something.”

  What she said, the way she said it after pretty much implying there was no need to go to the hospital even though she looked like she should be in the hospital made him think the worst.

  His gut twisted.

  Because he loved her so much, his mind went there, worst case scenario.

  No. No way could that happen to her, to him. No way in hell could he live without her, survive without her.

  His chest clenched so tight he couldn’t breathe. He fisted his hands only to stop himself from reaching for her, so he’d give her time to say what she needed to say.

  After endless moments, she swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”

  Thank God. Not dying. He didn’t know what the hell he would’ve done. Lose his mind then ball his eyes out, probably. He couldn’t live without her, no way, no how.

  He released a breath. Her words replayed in his mind. I’m pregnant.

  Damn. She was pregnant, pregnant with his kid? Right then, his kid was growing inside her? He was one lucky bastard getting a piece of her and him in his kid. The best news he ever got. He was going to be a father, a father to his girl’s baby, their baby.

  Cuss pressed the palm of his hand to his chest, so much warmth, so much life.

  His gaze flew to her pale face. Still, crouched on the floor, her head angled away, lip trembling.

 

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