by Jc Emery
“Hi, Grady.” I offer him a kind smile but can’t help the nervousness that sets in around him. I give Duke a wave and my best smile, which he returns in his own badass biker way. He opens his mouth and pauses, hanging there mid-motion for a long moment before the most exhausted yawn escapes his mouth. His heavy boots thump against the floor, and he throws himself into the kitchen chair nearest to me.
With drained piercing blue eyes, Duke fixes his eyes on mine. “I’d give my left testicle for a full night’s sleep.”
I fight off the snicker as best I can.
“Quit freaking crying,” Nic says, her voice nearing with every syllable. I perk up at her arrival and hope against hope that she brought Robin with her. I just want to look at her, that’s all. As Nic comes into view, my heart leaps as my eyes land on the baby carrier. She offers me a happy but tired smile—something I don’t remember seeing before Duke came along—and gently sets the carrier down on the floor in front of me.
“Hey,” she says. “It’s about time you met the baby.”
Wrapped up in a pale yellow blanket and a white and yellow onesie with ducks all over it is the tiniest, cutest little person I’ve ever seen. It’s crazy to think that humans go from living inside one another to being this small to eventually growing into what we are in adulthood. There’s so much damage that can happen along the way. So much that can go wrong given half a chance. And this little baby is just starting out. God, the very idea of something hurting her, anything hurting her, makes my stomach roll. I was a tiny baby once. So was Nic. As hard as it may be to believe, so were Grady and Duke and even Ian. We all started out this tiny, innocent, and vulnerable.
I spy Grady and Holly wandering over to the carrier and peeking in on the star of the show. I don’t miss Holly’s hand reaching for Grady’s as she stares down at the perfect little creature, and I definitely don’t miss the way Grady grabs hold of her and squeezes tightly. I let the significance of their connection seep in to my heart, past the jealousy and irritation. They want a baby together. That much is obvious. I wasn’t sure about Grady before, but now I know him better and I know how much he loves my best friend.
“You’re lucky, Holls. Grady makes cute kids,” I say without thinking.
Nic and Duke shoot each other knowing glances that signal for the other to keep their mouth shut. It’s cute how in sync they are. Holly freezes and seems uncomfortable with my comment, but it’s Grady who surprises me. He lets go of Holly’s hand and bends down, crowding his big body beside mine. I brace myself for the verbal lashing I surely deserve. It’s none of my business if they want to have kids, and a man like Sterling Grady is probably displeased with me pushing my nosy way into his personal business.
“This mean you’re over your shit?” he asks as he levels his gaze with mine. I should be slinking away from him, tears welling in my eyes, and on my way to a heart attack by now. But I’m not. This is so fucked-up. I hate how the only people I feel safe and normal around are a bunch of felonious outlaw murderers. It doesn’t make sense. My parents, my God-fearing, gentle, kind parents make my stomach sink and my skin crawl. It’s not fair to them. I should welcome their presence, but I just don’t. It doesn’t feel normal or right, and if I’m going to be honest with myself, they haven’t felt safe since before Heath.
“Your shit with me, Minds. Not the rest of it. Some shit you don’t get past.” Grady’s words shock me back into the moment. He heard Holly call me Minds once, and he’s been using it exclusively ever since.
“You’re good for her. That’s all that matters,” I say quietly. I force myself to keep eye contact with this intimidating man. Holly once told me that he’d die protecting me. Not because he feels the same for me that he does Holly, but because that’s who he is. I matter to her and therefore I matter to him. If I weren’t in such shock over the entire conversation, I could probably hug the man.
Or maybe not.
He grunts and lifts an eyebrow in the air, accenting the handsome wrinkles that are slowly setting in with age. He’s teasing me, I think. Feeling brave, I roll my eyes and smile at him.
“Holly belongs with you.” I was worried Grady and the club would be a bad influence on her. She followed me to hell and back and is still by my side. Her loyalty knows no bounds, and I was terrified at what it would mean for her if she hooked up with a man who has zero disregard for the rest of the entire world. But I was wrong. He’s good for her. He’s given her a home, a teenager she couldn’t be crazier about, and something to fight for—him. “She’s Forsaken.”
“So are you,” Grady says. His eyes pull from mine. He lifts the yellow blanket away from Robin and unsnaps her from her seat. Very carefully he lifts her out of the carrier. She stirs in his arms just slightly, her eyes opening and then closing just as quickly. She blows out a little breath and settles in his arms.
“You’re one of us now. Sorry how it went down, but you’re one tough bitch.”
The scuffling of shoes sounds on the floor behind Grady. I tense up immediately, having not previously known someone else was in the room. I can’t see anyone, but I know they’re there. My nerves are on edge, and my hands are shaking. I shove them under my legs to try to control my stupid response. I don’t want to be like this forever, unnerved so easily and quick to panic. Grady seems to notice. Before he can say anything, I excitedly blurt out, “I ate soup!”
He smirks, and a few muted laughs echo in the room. He’s taken up so much of my line of sight that I forgot Holly, Nic, and Duke are in the room with us. I want to crawl into a hole to hide my embarrassment.
“One tough bitch,” Grady reaffirms with a nod. “Only gonna say this once because I’m no pussy, but I’m high as fuck off new-baby smell.”
“Does Sterling Grady have baby rabies?” I hear Nic chide and then laugh through a covered mouth. She used to fear him, but I guess seeing him hold her daughter gives her a comfort she didn’t previously feel.
“Well, he better, because now I have baby rabies,” Holly says without shame. Jeez. She used to be pretty closed-off about these things, but a few months in this man’s bed and she’s as bad as me with blurting shit out left and right.
“Can’t get far if you’re waddling,” Duke says. I lift my head and catch the wink he sends Nic. “More babies you pop out, less chance you have of going anywhere.”
“Fuck you,” Nic says. “Our kid is a week old. You want a fucking baby factory, you better look at someone else. Don’t know how you’d manage it, though, without your dick attached to your body.” Nic’s angry rant exhausts her. She rounds the table and plops down in Duke’s lap despite her chastising of him.
“No spinning, babe,” he whispers into her ear, and she settles against his chest. Fuck. These people are so happy together and there’s a baby here and she’s perfect, and despite how goddamn ruined I am, I don’t feel totally out of place. I know for a fact that three of the people in the room have taken a life, committed multiple felonies, and regret none of it. And then there’s Nic. I don’t know too much about what she went through, but I know she understands me. The fact that these are now my people should have me blacking out with panic, but it doesn’t. I’ve spent too long wanting to be a part of Ian’s world to try to run once I’m finally being welcomed into it.
I try to keep my eyes on Grady’s, but it’s too hard. I lift my gaze over his shoulder to the wall behind him and gasp. It’s like Ian knew I was thinking about him. He’s leaning against the wall, his tense eyes fixed on the back of Grady’s head and his lips set in a flat line. He’s practically boring a hole into his sergeant-at-arm’s skull, so focused on the man in front of me that it’s almost like I’m not even here. I don’t know what I want from him, not really, but it would be nice if he would look at me. I miss his eyes. Not the ones I see now, but the ones that stare at me in silence while I blabber on about one thing or another. I even miss the sorrow in his eyes when I’m panicking.
“What happened is a result of a Forsaken fuckup.
We failed to protect our women, and because of that, those bastards went after Nic. I can’t make this better for you, and it’s not fucking right—not at all—but it happened. If Nic had been there . . .”
Grady stops talking, and I shift my attention back to him. I know what he’s trying to say, but he can’t seem to bring himself to say it—if I hadn’t been covering for Nic that night, it would have been her they hurt. And Robin wouldn’t be with us now. This poor, innocent, sweet little baby with her entire life before her wouldn’t have survived their vile hatred.
“Not a gift you meant to give, but her life is because of you.” Holly tries to shush him, afraid he’s upsetting me. He’s not. Not in the way she thinks. I spare a glance at Ian to find a scowl on his face that I can’t really identify. Maybe he’s remembering that night like I am. Maybe he’s not as unaffected by it as I think. Having to listen to everything Holly was telling him must have been difficult. I know it was difficult for her to say it. A regretful weight settles in my belly at the thought. Ian’s a human being just as much as the rest of us. Of course it hurt him as well.
God, this is all so fucked-up. I get hurt because those sick bastards think I’m someone else and I can’t even bring myself to be angry with Nic for asking me to cover for her that night. She would have lost her baby. It’s a high price to pay for someone else’s kid, but I know what Grady’s saying. It’s not okay, but in a sense it is. I can feel it in every fiber of my being as I stare at Robin’s sleeping face. I know what her mother went through. I know how miserable she was. Duke gave her Robin, and Robin gave her something to fight for. I don’t know that she would have gotten over losing Robin, and I bet her guilt over the entire situation weighs on her. I know it would weigh on me worse than it does now. I would hate to be in her shoes.
“Better me than you,” I whisper to Robin. And I mean it. For the first time since it happened, I feel a sense of acceptance wash over me.
Chapter 6
It didn’t take long for Robin to wake up once she was in Grady’s arms, and when she did, she woke up screaming bloody murder. Grady just shook his head and passed Robin off to Holly while Nic pulled out a bottle and handed it over. There was a minute there where Holly struggled with how to tip the bottle just right to get Robin to eat, but when Grady wrapped his arms around Holly and showed her how to do it, Robin calmed down immediately. It was cute and kept my even mood going, something that’s not easy these days. I’m relaxed—at least as relaxed as I can get—for what feels like the first time in months. It probably is the first time in months.
Halfway through her bottle, Robin stops eating and starts wailing again. On tired feet, Nic stumbles over to Holly and takes the baby in her arms, walking off without a word. I stare in confusion at the abandoned bottle in Holly’s hands.
“Kid prefers the tit,” Duke says through a yawn and then stands. He fixes his eyes on Grady and then over Grady’s shoulder to Ian. “We ready?”
Grady gives a grunt and grabs ahold of Holly’s butt. With lustful eyes, he says, “Hope Minds doesn’t mind, but when I get home I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to wake the neighbors with your screaming.”
My jaw hits the floor, and I cover my face. I so didn’t expect this when Holly invited me to stay the night. I bet if I look at her, she’s going to be bright red and quietly chastising his crudeness. “I mind, I mind,” I chant.
Her voice is breathy but demanding as she says, “Don’t be late, or I’m starting without you.”
Oh dear God. I retract everything I just thought about Grady being good for her. I’m not a prude, but holy cow, that’s the last visual I need. Ever.
I search the room for something else to focus on—anything else to focus on—and my eyes land uncomfortably on Ian. His deep, thoughtful, maybe even angry expression has been redirected to me. His gaze feels weighty, important. I can’t look away even though I want to. His head is tipped slightly forward with his chin down and his wavy light brown hair falling in his face. He’s gorgeous and dark and just everything I want to be in a position to want. I’m not, though—in any position to want him, I mean—and that frustrates me. It makes me want to try harder to get better, to push myself to be better now. Fake it ’til you make it, I guess.
Eventually, though, the staring becomes too much. I clear my throat, tear my eyes away from Ian’s, and head in the direction Nic went. I don’t miss the searing kiss Grady gives Holly or the low hum of his voice as he says, “Lose your pills, baby. I’m ready.”
My heart flutters right out of my chest as I turn the corner and head into the guest bedroom I tossed my stuff in earlier. Apparently Grady can be as romantic as Holly swears he is. And here I thought she had totally lowered her standards to be with him. Not that I’m one to pass judgment. If only she knew how I feel about Ian . . .
The door to the guest room is mostly closed now, though I left it fully open earlier. I slow my gait and notice Nic’s feeding Robin in the armed chair in the corner of the room. Her eyes lift to mine, and she gives me a soft smile.
“Should I leave?”
“No. You still haven’t had a chance to properly meet her.” Robin seems to have filled herself up, and Nic adjusts herself back in place. “I swear, for someone so small, she’s always freaking hungry.”
I offer a polite smile. I don’t know anything about how much babies eat, let alone how to keep one alive. I think I’ve figured the basic principles, like how they need air and food and a clean diaper, but the mechanics of all that are beyond me. Nic, my crazy, grouchy, troubled coworker, has her man now, and he’s strong and bossy as all get-out. He gives her what she needs and even what she wants sometimes. Now she has Robin, and she’s all settled down. Holly started staying with Grady back when I was forced to stay with Duke and Nic. Holly never left, and now they’re all about having a baby and Grady’s teenage daughter is half a step from calling Holly “mom.” They’re all growing up and moving on with their lives, and here I am, stagnant and even regressing in some ways. My biggest accomplishment is avoiding a panic attack. Yay me.
Nic stands from the chair and nods her head to the bed. “You look nervous. Sit down.” Huh?
“Why?”
“No bullshit?” she asks. Oh no. Nic’s always been pretty forward when she finally decides to address something. She may let it eat at her for a while, but eventually she just goes all in with it.
“No bullshit,” I say. My voice is faint. Be brave, I tell myself. Face this head-on.
“Those men would have killed me. They would have killed my baby.”
“It’s fine,” I say. It’s not, but that’s not on her. It’s on the people who tried to hurt her.
“You said no bullshit.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit.
“I know what you went through. I know they hurt you. There’s no way we can compare the shit we’ve been through, but I think you know how well I understand your pain. I know what it’s like to be hurt like that.”
My throat closes up and my eyes well with tears. I’m fucking tired of crying and getting emotional about every little thing. But this is Nic, and this talk is long overdue. She wanted to talk to me when I was still in the hospital recovering, but I didn’t want to see anyone at that point. Ian stood guard outside my door, and he was the only one I wanted in there with me. I haven’t stopped wanting him. I don’t think I ever will.
“You don’t want anyone to touch you, hate the feel of your own skin. You ask yourself why it happened. In my case, I asked myself why it kept happening and why I couldn’t just leave the guy who was doing it. In your case, you know why, and I can’t imagine knowing makes it any better.”
“Makes it worse,” I confess. I’ve talked more about that night in the last hour than I have since it happened. It’s easy with Ian. He never talks about it, never asks me to relive the brutality like my dad does. Ian doesn’t suffocate me with worry like my mom does. I thought it would be too painful to talk about this wit
h Nic or anyone in the club. I thought acknowledging it would be more painful than living day in and day out skirting around it.
“How can I be angry with you? You didn’t do anything wrong, and neither of us knew what I was walking into. I can’t be angry, because if it was you instead of me, then Robin wouldn’t be here. How can I be angry with the club? They did exactly what I would have wanted to do for that jerk hurting you? How can I hate anyone when the men who hurt me are dead? I can’t, and it leaves me with this ridiculous self-pity about not getting better that I just can’t get rid of.”
Except now. Right now I don’t feel like I’m not getting better. Even saying the words means I am better, and I know it. And now that I’ve had a little taste of being better, I feel a surge of impatience. I want everything right this second, which is so predictable. I don’t know the meaning of slow down.
“Well, it’s not a cure, but I know of a little something that always helps me,” Nic says. She blows a piece of her stringy bleached-blonde hair out of her face and puffs out her cheeks. She’s not as thin as a rail anymore, but even with the added baby weight, she just looks healthy now. I didn’t even realize how tiny she was before she got pregnant. She must have been so unhealthy.
“I know of a few things that help, but I’m kind of avoiding them,” I say and pull my black chip out of my pocket. I wouldn’t normally share this part of myself, but this is Nic. She’s the last person to judge. “Busted my ass for this thing.”
“How long?” She eyes the chip thoughtfully.
“Four years, two months, and fifteen days.”