Ruthless

by Gillian Archer

  At least he’d assumed so. Reb hadn’t brought it up and Zag didn’t know how.

  Instead, Zag stood and drank the rest of his whiskey in one gulp.

  “You heading to the hospital?” Reb raised his head to ask.

  Zag nodded. “After a shower.”

  “The boys and I will head down later after we catch some sleep.”

  “She’s in ICU. They won’t let anyone but family see her.” That was what he’d been told when he called thirty minutes ago. At least he knew she was resting comfortably. And still breathing.

  “That’s okay. She’s not the only one we’re going there to support.”

  Zag’s throat suddenly felt thick with emotion. Unable to say anything through it, he jerked his head in a tight nod, then headed for his room at the back of the clubhouse.

  He had some blood to wash off before he could go see about his girl.

  —

  An hour later, Zag entered the ICU’s waiting room. His eyes immediately went to the familiar group on the far side. Jessica’s family. Although they’d initially looked up at his arrival, the older woman frowned, then bent toward her husband’s ear.

  Not exactly feeling welcome, Zag took a seat on the opposite side of the room and settled back for a long wait.

  Unlike his previous arrival in the hospital, this time he had a shirt on, in addition to his vest. Not that his battered heavy metal tee was any more respectable, especially with the new and oversized bandage covering up his own gunshot wound—at least judging from the looks he was getting from a few of the other people in the waiting room.

  And Jessica’s family.

  He felt like such a fucking pansy for avoiding them, but what could he say? Sorry I got your daughter shot? He really didn’t want that to be the first impression they got of him.

  Not like there was anything he could do about it now.

  So instead, he’d taken a seat at the opposite end of the room and tried like hell not to look in their direction.

  Not even five minutes later, his whole body tensed as someone took the chair to his right.

  The middle-aged guy from last night leaned against the arm and extended his hand. “Wayne Miller, and you are?”

  Zag looked at the outstretched hand and clenched his jaw before accepting the handshake. “Zag.”

  Wayne clenched Zag’s hand in a grip that was stronger than polite before letting go. “So you’re the guy who’s had my daughter all tied up in knots?”

  “I, uh—”

  “I’m not talking about tonight. I mean this summer.”

  “I guess. I mean, we’ve been seeing each other since June.” Zag closed his eyes and mentally cussed himself out. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so thrown over a simple fucking conversation. He had to get his shit together.

  Wayne rubbed at the side of his neck. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I have to say this comes as a surprise, though.”

  “I—uh, which part?” Not that Zag really wanted to know. He had a feeling the answer was all of it.

  “I was starting to think I’d never see the day my little girl finally got serious about a guy. Once we get past all of this stuff”—he paused to wave his hand at the waiting room in general—“we’ll have to have you over for dinner to get to know you better.”

  “I, uh, yeah. I’d like that.” Zag goggled in amazement. Considering the fact Jess had never even hinted about him meeting her family, he’d had the feeling that they wouldn’t approve. But maybe that was more due to his own hang-ups—looking for slights when they weren’t there. She had introduced him to her friends.

  “In the meantime, why don’t you come on over and meet the rest of the family?”

  Zag nodded and followed Wayne over to the other side of the room where Jess’s family waited.

  “This is my wife, Donna.” Wayne stretched his hand toward the middle-aged woman.

  Zag tried to give her his most charming smile, but her pinched expression made it difficult. His guilt over the whole situation weighed down on his shoulders. Still, he extended his hand toward the woman, willing to put himself out there. For Jessica. “My friends call me Zag.”

  After a beat, she took his hand in a weak handshake. “Nice to finally meet you,” she croaked as tears filled her eyes. “I had a feeling Jessica was dating someone. Now we all know I was right.”

  Wayne gave a startled chuckle and turned to Zag. “She just always has to be right. But I don’t have to tell you that. It’s a Miller family trait. At least with the women.”

  Some of the tension leached from Zag’s shoulders. They were treating him like an equal. Like one of the family. Instead of blame and scorn, he was getting smiles and funny asides.

  But then again, maybe they didn’t know. Maybe the cops hadn’t talked to them last night like he’d assumed.

  But before Wayne could finish the introductions, a nurse bustled over to their end of the waiting room. “Zag? Zag Cooper?”

  His heart in his throat, Zag turned and faced the nurse. “Here.”

  “Jessica is awake and asking for you.”

  Relief flooded through his body. She was okay. Zag tossed a polite smile to the family, feeling a little awkward because they clearly were dying to see her, too, then followed the nurse out of the room and down the hallway.

  She paused outside a door and gave Zag a quick once-over, her gaze lingering a little long on his vest and club badge. “She’s still heavily sedated, but has been asking for you every time she awakes up. Try to keep her calm. Rest is the best thing for her right now. She doesn’t need any additional stress. You’ve got ten minutes.”

  Zag tried to take in all the information she just spewed, but all he could think about was Jess waiting for him behind that door. So he jerked his chin in a tight nod at the nurse, then opened the door.

  Chapter 28

  Jessica

  I fought against the heavy weight on my eyelids, and the room around me blurred into focus. White. Stark white. And the distinct tang of antiseptic cleanliness. I was in the hospital. Well, that explained the weird numbness of my body. I looked down and sucked in a painful breath at the huge bandage covering my chest. What the—

  And then the events of the bike rally crashed down on me. Preacher. The gun. Zag bleeding. And the crushing pain in my chest. I’d been shot.

  Zag had been shot, too.

  My eyes darted around the room, hoping that he’d been admitted to the same hospital—and room—as me, but the room was empty.

  Where was Zag?

  My breath wheezed in my lungs until even the oxygen tube in my nostrils didn’t help. A weird crackling sound came out with every breath I took. Freaked, I felt down the side of the bed, grabbed the call button, and mashed it until someone came through the glass doors and into the room.

  “Someone’s awake.” The brunette nurse—doctor?—smiled reassuringly, but she wasn’t the person I was aching to see.

  “Zag? Is Zag all right?” Forcing the words through my sore throat hurt, but I had to know.

  “Let’s see about you for now. We’ve been worrying about you. Nice to see you’re finally awake.” She bustled to the phone and paged someone before stepping to the side of my bed and checking my vitals.

  “Please, I just need to know. Is he okay? Zag? Please, I need to know.”

  The nurse just clucked noncommittally and turned when the door opened. Another woman entered, this one wearing a white lab coat. And then the medical jargon began.

  I sank back into the bed and submitted to all the poking and prodding. To be honest, I didn’t care what they did or what they said. I just had to know—was Zag okay?

  And then it hit me. The baby. Shit, I was pregnant.

  “Doctor?” I reached out and grabbed her hand. “The baby? Am I still—” I couldn’t even finish the question. Like saying it out loud might jinx it or something.

  The doctor smiled. “Yes, the baby’s still with us. In fact, I’m going to schedule an
ultrasound for sometime later today or tomorrow. Let you see your little one for yourself.”

  I sank back against the pillows in relief. Thank God.

  I blinked away grateful tears. “And the father? Zag? Is he all right, too?”

  The doctor exchanged a look with the nurse. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question.”

  “He was shot, too. Wasn’t he taken to this hospital?”

  The doctor blinked. “I can look into it for you.”

  Not sure what to make of the sudden tension in the room, I just forged ahead. “Zag. Zag Cooper. Or—George Cooper is his legal name. Please, I need to know.”

  “I’ll check the waiting room,” the nurse said before leaving the room.

  I sank back into the bed, thankful for the knowledge that my baby was safe. Though I’d been wavering over the pregnancy since finding out, my reaction today really sent home how much I wanted this baby now.

  I just had to tell Zag.

  I hoped he would be just as excited as I finally was.

  A few moments later, the door opened and there he was. Zag. Gorgeous. Every inch of him. And as far as I could see, perfectly fine—aside from the bandage circling one of his biceps.

  “Princess! Thank God. I’ve been out of my mind worrying about you.” He tore across the room and stopped at my bedside, where he paused like he wasn’t sure if or where it was safe to touch me.

  I lifted an IV-laced hand and winced at the ache it caused, but kept it raised to cup his cheek. “I’m fine. I—um, I do need to tell you something, though…”

  I trailed off, not sure how to start or what to say, really.

  Zag’s eyes glistened with moisture. “I know about the baby,” he said gruffly.

  I blinked up at him. Stunned by that calm declaration. How did he…when did he…

  “You told me in the ambulance on the way over here. Don’t you remember?”

  My mind raced back. “Not really. The last thing I remember is seeing you standing in front of me with blood running down your arm. That’s it.”

  Zag nodded, then looked away. His brow wrinkled like he was fighting the urge to say something. Or working something out in his head.

  After a few moments, I couldn’t take the silence any longer. “What? What is it?”

  He turned back to me and the pain in his eyes tore at me. “Are you still? Pregnant?”

  “Yes. Yes! That was the first question I asked the doctor when I woke up. Or second, after I asked about you. We’re still pregnant.” I smiled tremulously. I wanted him to be as happy about the baby as I was.

  Zag closed his eyes and blew out a huge sigh. After a long second, he took a few steps and collapsed on the chair next to the bed. “Thank Christ.”

  My heart melted a little. I wanted to be closer to him, curled up next to him—I always felt better with Zag’s arms around me. But he didn’t look like he was in a cuddling mood, and I could hardly raise an arm, never mind get out of the bed.

  After a few moments with only the beeping of my heart monitor to break the silence, Zag raised his head, and the pain in his eyes took my breath away.

  “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  My mind raced. “You just said I told you. In the ambulance.”

  “No, you told the people working on you. The paramedics. I just happened to be there.” Zag took a deep breath and looked away. “Is it because I’m a biker? Is what you saw this summer the reason you couldn’t tell me about the baby?”

  “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t partly to blame. You, your friends, the kind of life you guys lead…I don’t see how a baby fits into all that. I’m not sure I fit into it.”

  Zag winced like I’d just sucker-punched him. And maybe I had. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to have this conversation. I was hopped up on drugs and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Neither one of us was exactly at our best. And I didn’t want to say something that I couldn’t take back.

  “I’m tired. Maybe it would be better if we had this talk in a few days. After I’ve recovered.”

  “Bullshit. Nothing is better when you put it off.” Zag turned my head toward him until I had no choice but to meet his eyes. “Princess, we’ll figure it out. It’ll be all right. We’ll make it work. Between us. With the baby. God, you have no idea how proud I am that I have you and now we’ll be three.”

  The love and amazing gentleness in his eyes was like nothing I’d ever seen before. This strong, kick-ass biker man was teary-eyed over me.

  Me.

  He reached over and dropped the side rail of the bed so we could be as close as possible. Tucking a hand around my neck, he ran his lips back and forth over my lips in the most gentle and chaste kiss of my life.

  I kind of missed his usual passionate kiss, but at that exact second, I was just glad to have him hold me. My problems always felt tiny when he had his arms around me. I melted into him and let all my thoughts fall away.

  But soon, his chaste kiss wasn’t enough. I tilted my head and covered his lips with mine. I tried to put what I was feeling into my kiss. Letting him know without words that we’d be okay, that no matter who he thought he was, I still loved him.

  I pulled back with a gasp. Had I even bothered to tell him that I loved him? No wonder he thought he wasn’t good enough.

  “What?” Zag frowned down at me. “Not that I’m gonna complain, but what brought that on?”

  “I just—I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I know I—”

  “Stop right there, princess. You had every right to worry about that part of me. I know who I am. I’ve never claimed to be a Boy Scout.”

  “But still—”

  “No. If you’re going where I think you’re going, you gotta get something clear. We don’t run guns or drugs or women or whatever. But we’re not angels. I get into brawls. I’ve been arrested. I took care of Preacher. I’m not afraid to protect what’s mine. Who I am, the guys I hang with, what we do—none of that’s going to change. I am who I am. Thorns and all.”

  I bit my lip and looked into his eyes. Took care of Preacher? I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I was pretty sure I didn’t need the details. But he was Zag. And I knew there was only one thing I could say. “I love you.”

  “Damn.” Zag rested his forehead on mine. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “What?” I pulled back with a frown. Then I shoved him, as hard as my weakened state would let me. “I tell you I love you and you call me stupid?”

  Zag clutched his bandaged arm and laughed. “No. Fuck, calm down. I just can’t believe someone like you could ever love someone like me.”

  “Well, I’m not dumb…just in love and pregnant. I’m still smarter than you.”

  “And prettier. And way too good for a thug like me.” Zag cupped my face in his hands, bending close. “And I’m never letting you go.”

  Then he gave me the sweetest, most tender kiss we’d ever shared.

  After, he rested his forehead on mine and sighed. “I feel like such a shmuck. I should’ve bought you a ring. Sealed the deal while they still have you all hopped up on painkillers.”

  With tears in my eyes, I held his hand and whispered back, “I’m not going anywhere. I have all I want right here.”

  He covered my tummy with his rough hand and whispered, “Me too. I love you, princess.”

  What more could a girl ever want?

  Epilogue

  ELEVEN AND A HALF MONTHS LATER

  SEPTEMBER 19

  The wedding took a little compromise on both our parts.

  Zag wanted a casino wedding—something about the glitz of the casino chapel reminded him of a Hollywood moment worthy of me. At least that was what he said. Personally, I had too many ugly memories of the casino and Preacher to want to spend such an important day there.

  I’d always imagined a church wedding, but Zag said he and his guys would burst into flames if they ever stepped foot inside a chapel, so apparently that was out, too.
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  In the end, we compromised and settled on an outdoor wedding on a hilltop in Tahoe.

  I stood next to the limo with my dad, waiting for our cue. Smoothing my damp palm over my still slightly bulging tummy, I wished for the hundredth time I had spent more hours in the gym. But going to the gym was time away from our three-month-old daughter, Harley, and I just wasn’t ready for that.

  I heard her crying, and it took everything within me to stay where I was and not rush to her. I knew my mother would be in the front row holding Harley. She’d be fine. Mom had plenty of experience with fussy babies.

  “You look gorgeous, honey.”

  I smiled at my dad. “Thanks.”

  It wasn’t the June wedding I’d wanted. But I didn’t want to be nine months pregnant and huge in the photos, and Zag wouldn’t wait for June to come around again. He wanted it now and casual and near the date when we’d confessed our love.

  So I was the one to give in. But when he was being so sweet and sentimental, how could I say no?

  My life with Zag had finally calmed down. Preacher had officially been labeled a bail jumper and was a wanted man. Apparently when the True Brothers “took care” of someone, they never surfaced again. I didn’t lose an ounce of sleep over what had probably happened to him—not that I ever asked. No Preacher meant no trial and no stress for my pregnancy. Aside from Zag’s annoying tendency to hover and my hormonal outbursts.

  My two besties in their soft pink bridesmaid dresses walked up the aisle—each escorted by a tattooed, leather-vest-wearing (over his tux) biker. Despite my nerves about the ceremony, I watched with an eagle eye as Reb escorted Emily up the aisle. She’d had to wear a light cardigan to cover up the worst of her injuries. Reb was especially solicitous, making sure she was okay to stand before he took up his spot next to Zag as his best man.

  Nicole was next with her escort, Bobby—I mean, Hatchet. It was so damn hard to think of his road name. He’d always be Bobby first in my mind, Zag’s oddly sweet biker roommate and protégé.

  When I walked up the makeshift aisle, I only had eyes for Zag. He stood head and shoulders above everyone else, his hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and a rakish grin on his face. He could’ve been mistaken for a pirate but for the leather pants and vest he wore.