Fast: A Pregnant by the Bad Boy Romance (Burns Brothers Book 2)

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Fast: A Pregnant by the Bad Boy Romance (Burns Brothers Book 2) Page 20

by Gillian Archer


  “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

  “No, you’re not being fair to Aunt Wendy, and you know it. He killed her sister, and she had to raise his kids. She’s more of a parent to us than he ever was. Have you even talked to her lately? Does she know what you’re doing?”

  Dylan hung his head and didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer.

  Because we both knew he was in the wrong. “He already blew the job you set him up with. He had the fucking nerve to come to me for money or another job here. Where the hell have you been?”

  Dylan hitched a shoulder. “I got some things going on. I was busy.”

  “Fuck me. Busy? Really? You’re not gonna tell me?” I waited a beat, but when Dylan couldn’t answer me or look me in the eyes, I shook my head. “He’s been watching us. He tried to talk shit about Aunt Wendy and he all but threatened me and Hope. He knows shit he shouldn’t, and I don’t know what he’s gonna do with the information, but it can’t be good.”

  “I’ll talk to him. He can’t… I won’t let him touch you or Hope. I swear.”

  “Dylan, seriously? You’re still gonna take his side? Do you not see where this is going? He’s gonna fuck your name in this town. No one will want to do us any favors if you keep hooking him up with jobs. Because that fucking leopard isn’t changing his spots. He’s got anger issues and thinks the whole world owes him something—especially us. And I don’t care what he says. He’s already doing shit he knows he shouldn’t.”

  “I can’t, Ryan. I don’t…” Dylan rubbed the back of his neck and sighed heavily.

  I couldn’t believe that he was still choosing that bastard over his real family. He knew that Austin and Nathan wanted nothing to do with the son of a bitch. Why couldn’t he see what we all already knew?

  My sigh echoed his. “I told Wendy. She knows everything.”

  Dylan’s head came up and his glare would’ve scared a weaker man. “What the hell? Why would you—”

  “Because I didn’t like the way he was talking about her. You might’ve ignored it, but I heard the way he talked about our mother at breakfast—little veiled digs and slurs. He’s a fucking pig. He’s already killed one woman, and I’ll be damned if he kills another. Next time it might be Wendy or Sabrina. Or Hope.”

  Dylan sagged back against the cabinets with a defeated expression.

  “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but you don’t owe that man shit. You deserve a lot better of a father than him. You aren’t him. You’ll never be him. You don’t owe him anything. Don’t let him get into your head.”

  Still Dylan didn’t say anything.

  “When you want to talk about it, I’m here, man. I’ll always be here.”

  Dylan jerked his chin up and his voice was husky when he finally spoke. “You don’t understand. There are things…” He shook his head then finished weakly. “He’s the only father we’ve got.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Austin was our father because that son of a bitch killed our mom and should’ve rot in prison for the rest of his life. The title of father isn’t something you get because you have a kid. It’s earned. Look at Austin with Wyatt. Do you think he’s any less of a father to that kid because he’s not blood? That little boy loves him so fucking much because Austin’s earned it. He’s shown up. Austin showed up every day of our childhood. He’s the example I’m looking at when Hope has our baby. Not the son of a bitch who only gave us half of our DNA. Think about that the next time you talk to him.”

  Dylan didn’t have a response or the ability to look me in the eyes. I shook my head. “I meant what I said. If you want to talk—when you want to talk—I’m here.”

  Dylan hitched a shoulder and continued to study the tips of his boots.

  I swung out the door and slammed it behind me. I wasn’t in any shape to see Hope right then, so I stabbed out a quick text when I reached the main shop.

  Me: Gotta work late tonight. How about I pick you up for breakfast tomorrow?

  Hope didn’t reply right away, so I got to work. Most everyone had left for the night since it was Friday night, but I heard some rumblings in the conference room that the production crew had claimed. Shit, James really was a bastard if he was making the guys work late on a Friday night. I’d have to buy Liam and Will a round if they were still here when I finished.

  I must’ve gotten lost in my work because the next thing I knew, it was almost midnight. Time had flown, but my aching back was now paying the price. Fuck. I stood up and tried to stretch my kinks out. With a groan, I grabbed my phone and saw that Hope had texted me back hours ago.

  Hope: Maybe lunch? I gotta work late too so I want to sleep in tomorrow.

  I rolled my eyes. Like I’d wait that long to see my girl. Maybe she was still up.

  Me: You still up? I could swing by now and then I’ll be with you to sleep in with you.

  Hope: Hmmm… Kinda hard to argue with that.

  Me: I’ve got something else that’s hard for you.

  Hope: Is that all you ever think about?

  Me: Think about? Think with? Pretty much.

  Hope: I’m home, horny boy. I’ll wait up for you.

  Me: On my way.

  I might’ve had a shit eating grin on my face as I shoved my tool cart aside. The silence of the building let me know I’d missed my chance to buy the production guys a round. Maybe next time. I took a few seconds to check that the outer doors were locked and armed the security system.

  There was a hop in my step, and I might’ve been whistling as I walked out the door toward my bike. Knowing that Hope was up and waiting for me in bed made all the aches from being bent over that damn wiring job disappear. In a few minutes I’d be the one bending her over.

  “I think we need to have a little talk about respect.”

  The quiet hiss of T-Bone’s voice had my heart stuttering. In all my euphoria of leaving, I hadn’t noticed the motorcycles parked side by side in the street. There had to be at least twenty bikes lined up with a biker standing in front of them. None of which looked pleased to see me. Least of all Hope’s father, T-Bone, who stood in front of them all and about twenty feet away from me on the edge of our parking lot.

  “I uh—”

  “I don’t want to hear your pissant voice right now!” T-Bone roared.

  I swallowed and nodded stiffly. I was up to my eyeballs in trouble. I didn’t need T-Bone to spell it out for me.

  T-Bone sauntered toward me with a smirk. “I had a really hard fucking time coming to terms with you sleeping with my girl at my fucking bike reveal. I know you boys think you’re tough shit with your bikes and your little reality show, but family is off limits.” He stopped with the toes of his boots touching mine–so close I could smell his cologne. Some spittle sprayed my face when he spoke. “I had a little talk with my girlie, and she was supposed to keep her goddamn knees closed.”

  “Sounds like you’re the one who needs a fucking lesson about respect.” The words flew out of my mouth before my brain had caught up. Not that I regretted what I’d said.

  Not even after his fist plowed into my stomach.

  I groaned, clutching my stomach.

  “As I was saying. The boys convinced me not to come down on you and yours after you’d fucked my daughter. They wanted those pretty bikes you guys build, so we decided to make you sweat it out a little. Because no one screws with us and just gets away with it. But then today a little birdie told me that you—a little pissant nobody—had gone and knocked up my little girl.”

  My blood froze. He knew about us. About the baby. Shit. Fuck. I could feel the sweat forming on my forehead.

  While T-Bone had been talking, the other bikers had formed a circle around us. A circle I probably wouldn’t be leaving alive.

  “And it was then I realized. There are four of you. And from what the boys say about your little TV show, I doubt your brothers will even miss you. So I can take care of business—teach you a little bit about respect before I make
you swallow your tongue and your dick too—and my boys can still buy some bikes from the three remaining Burns Brothers.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he hissed, “And maybe for a little quid pro quo, I’ll fuck that little sister of yours. What’s her name? Sabrina?”

  I swung. My fist plowed into the side of his jaw and his head went back. He growled low in his throat and whipped out a heavy chain I hadn’t noticed, flinging one end into my face. The blow whipped my head back and agonizing pain exploded in my entire skull.

  But still I fought. Swinging out to punch him but my arms were no match against his chain. The length kept him just out of arms reach as it delivered blow after blow. My head and face throbbed from the smacks from the chain while the crowd around us howled and shouted advice for T-Bone.

  The chain caught the side of my head, and I went down. Blows rained down on my head, chest, ribs, back. All I could do was flinch and groan. My hands were no protection against his heavy chain. Blood dripped from my forehead into my eyes, and I could taste the metallic tang of it in my mouth.

  And then I heard the telltale sound of a gun cocking next to my ear. I wanted to fight. For myself. For Hope. For our baby. But my body was broken. I closed my eyes and said a little prayer for my family, my girl, and the little girl I’d never get the chance to meet.

  “Hey assholes!”

  I thought the shout had come from one of the Kings, but they all fell silent before a few cursed.

  Opening my eyes, I could barely make out the form of a man standing on the shop’s roof with a camera on his shoulder. Will? And then he spoke again and I realized it was James, the asshole producer. “I’ve already called the cops on your asses. This is a little incentive for you all to get on your bikes and get the fuck away from my guy.”

  “Just shoot him!” One of the Kings shouted.

  “Ha!” James shouted. “You could shoot me, but do you think you could get up here on the roof and get rid of what I’ve recorded before the cops show up?”

  A few Kings grumbled, but then the piercing wail of approaching sirens had them all running for their bikes.

  “Next time, fucker.” T-Bone paused and kicked me in the side. “We’ll find you when you don’t have a little blue bird watching out for you.”

  Blue bird? Birdie. James was the one who’d outed us to T-Bone? “He told you about us?”

  A sinister smirk curved across T-Bone’s lips. “The jackass with the camera? Nah, your own father sold you out for a few lines of blow.”

  “Bone!” Someone shouted. “We gotta roll. Pigs are coming.”

  And with one last sharp kick to my ribs, T-Bone was gone and the roar of twenty bikes vibrated the air and ground around me.

  I was barely holding on to consciousness as they rode away. It was hard to breathe. I tried to push myself up, but my arms weren’t working.

  “I called for help. I swear an ambulance should be here any minute.” James yelled from somewhere overhead.

  “Thanks,” I slurred right before everything went black.

  Chapter 24

  Hope

  I looked at my phone and my stomach clenched when I realized that a whole hour had passed since Ryan’s last text. On my way.

  He should’ve been here by now.

  My hands shook as I looked through my contact list for Dylan’s info. Ryan had given it to me weeks ago, wanting me to have multiple ways to get in touch with his family if I needed it. He’d also saved Wendy’s, Sabrina’s, Nathan’s, and Austin’s numbers. But I knew out of anyone, Dylan was the one to call right now. He was the closest of all their siblings—both personally and geographically. He’d know what was going on with Ryan.

  Finding Dylan’s name, I hit the button to call him. The line rang twice before he picked up.

  “Hope, are you here? We’re all in the waiting room outside of surgery. Fifth floor.”

  “Surgery?” I repeated weakly. The room started to spin, and I sank down onto my knees. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

  “Hope? Hello?” Dylan’s voice sounded so far away.

  I buried my face in my hands. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t… Oh God. I wiped at my eyes and reached for the phone I must’ve dropped. “What happened?”

  “No one called you?” There were some shuffling sounds on his end of the phone. “What do you mean you guys didn’t call her? He loves her. Of course, he’ll want her here.”

  “Dylan? Dylan!” I pushed myself up off the floor and raced for my bedroom with my phone still clasped to my ear. I needed a bra. And pants. Shit.

  “Yeah. I’m here, Hope. I’m sorry. I thought you were on your way. I was the last to get here, and I thought one of the guys had already called you.”

  “I don’t care about all that.” I ripped a pair of yoga pants off my bed. “Just tell me what hospital.”

  “Yeah, not happening, sweetheart. I’ll be there in ten to pick you up. Ryan will have my ass if you try to drive yourself here.” More shuffling on his end then his muffled voice. “I don’t give a fuck what you think. She didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “Do with what? What happened to Ryan? Is he all right?”

  “I’ll be there in ten. Sit tight.”

  The line went silent then a beep sounded letting me know he ended the call.

  I looked blankly at my phone’s screen. What had happened to Ryan? Why wasn’t he telling me? And why did his family think I had something to do with it? Shaking my head, I tossed my phone aside and sank down on the end of my bed. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer for Ryan to be all right. That was all I wanted. Needed.

  “Amen.” Heaving a shaky sigh, I stood and got myself dressed.

  The building was suspiciously silent. Even though it was after midnight, I’d usually run into someone in the elevator or the lobby. With all the apartments filled with MC members, normal working hours didn’t usually apply. Especially on a Friday night.

  As I sat alone in the lobby the implications hit me.

  Ryan was hurt.

  No one was around.

  Something had happened.

  Were the two related? I was so far outside my dad’s inner circle I wouldn’t know, but my body quaked as I did the math.

  It was a relief when Dylan roared up to the curb on his custom bike. I was out of the building and climbing onto the back of his bike before he even got his helmet off.

  Dylan killed the engine and turned toward me. “We’ll park my bike and take your car.”

  “Fuck that. The bike will get us there quicker. I have to see Ryan.”

  He started at me for a second then shook his head. “Fine, but you gotta wear my helmet. I don’t have a spare. And Ryan will hang me by the balls if anything happens to you.”

  I took his helmet and quickly strapped it on. “I don’t need the speech. I know how to hold onto a bike. I’m my father’s daughter after all.”

  “Let’s hope that’s not true,” Dylan muttered just before he revved his engine.

  And that was when I knew. He had done something. Ryan had been right. I should’ve talked to my dad sooner. Told him about us. Something, anything, that would’ve prevented whatever had happened to Ryan. And I only had myself to blame. I felt lightheaded as Dylan sped through the city streets, but I still held on like a hellcat.

  It felt weird to have my arms wrapped around Dylan and not Ryan. Dylan didn’t have the same bulk that Ryan did. His body in my arms just felt…wrong. My slight baby bump that had started to make my jeans feel tight pressed against Dylan’s back. It was so weird. And wrong. It should be Ryan my arms were around. Not his brother. Tears burned my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. There would be time later to fall apart. Right now I just had to concentrate on getting to Ryan.

  No matter what had happened, I was going to be there for him.

  Even if the rest of his family didn’t want me there.

  Dylan parked his bike just outside the main entrance. I handed his helmet over and swung off his bike. Dyla
n got off and reached out to grab my hand. “We’ll talk inside. But when I left, he was in surgery. They were concerned about internal bleeding and that he hadn’t regained consciousness.”

  I nodded tightly and let Dylan lead me into the building, to the elevator and up to the fifth-floor surgery waiting room. He’d held my hand the entire way. Something about that was significant, but I couldn’t get my mind to work out why. Instead, his words whirled around my head. Internal bleeding. Hadn’t regained consciousness. Bleeding. Bleeding.

  We burst through the waiting room doors and found Ryan’s entire family huddled in the mud grey room along with a few men I didn’t recognize. Wendy. Sabrina. Austin and Rachel. Nathan.

  It was the latter who glared at me.

  I ignored him as I crossed to Wendy. “How is he? Did they give you any update?”

  “No, honey. They’re still working on him.” Wendy reached out and pulled me in for a tight hug. “But I’m not worried. He’s a stubborn S. O. B. He’ll pull through this just fine. I can’t tell you the number of times that boy has been in one scrape or another. He’s tough.”

  I pulled back and gave her a slight smile that I was miles from feeling as she kept an arm around me.

  “How are you feeling, honey?” Wendy asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t even know. This is all so surreal.”

  “Don’t you want to know why he’s in here in the first place?” Nathan demanded with narrow-eyed intent. “Or did Dylan already fill you in?”

  “I didn’t tell her anything because we don’t know much.” Dylan stepped up to my side and rested a hand on my shoulder. “Hopefully the doctor will fill us in shortly.”

  “You’re not even a little curious how Ryan ended up in the hospital or did you already know? Did your daddy tell you what he’d planned?”

  “Nathan,” Dylan hissed.

  “No this is bullshit. None of you thought it was important to tell me and Austin that she’s the fucking daughter of the Kings’ president? You let us think that she was just some club whore, spreading her legs for any of those bastards, when she’s his fucking daughter. Now she’s coming in here with her fake tears and bullshit acting. Do you have a guilty conscious because you’re a conniving bitch?” Nathan’s voice rose with every word until he was shouting at me. The tendons in his neck straining as his words cut me into shreds.

 

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