Heart: BWWM Secret Baby Romance

by Kara Jones

  "Not without you," Gunner growled, turning his attention back toward Hannah. Rich put his hand protectively on Hannah's arm, his gesture was not lost on Gunner, a frown marring his face.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you, Gunner. Please, leave us alone," Hannah pleaded, trying to hide the desperation in her voice.

  Gunner's eyes searched hers, silently pleading for forgiveness and for her love. Hannah had none to give. There had been too much damage done, and now she had to think of Charlie.

  "Get out of here," Gunner said, raising his eyes back toward Rich.

  "Not without you, Hannah," Rich said protectively. Hannah shook her head.

  "It's fine, Rich. Please, I will see you soon," she promised. Hannah knew that there was no way Gunner was going to leave them in peace. Hannah felt herself starting to sober as the fresh air and the reality of the situation started to settle in.

  "Are you sure?" Rich hesitated, he didn't like the thought of leaving Hannah here with this brutish man, but equally, he knew that he was no match for him in a fight. Rich was all too well aware of the James brothers' reputation.

  "I'll be fine. I promise." Hannah said, laying her hand on his arm and smiling. Rich thought about it for a minute before nodding.

  "I will call you tomorrow." There was a fire in his voice that told Hannah that he would.

  "No you fucking well won't," Gunner growled, but neither Rich nor Hannah acknowledged him. Rich hesitated before turning to leave, and Hannah watched him until he disappeared out of sight before turning her attention back to Gunner.

  "Just when I didn't think it was possible to hate you more, you go and prove me wrong. I told you I’m with Rich now," she spat.

  Gunner jerked back as if he had been slapped in the face. There was so much venom and hatred in her voice that he never thought possible – not from his sweet Hannah. He suddenly became aware of the people who had stopped on the street to watch the three of them. Groaning, Gunner knew it would only be a matter of hours before the James brothers would, once again, be front-page news. He shook his head. How was it that he could never manage to stay out of trouble for more than one day?

  "Let me take you home," Gunner growled gruffly, heading back toward his bike.

  For the first time in his life, he felt unsure of himself. He knew that Hannah was going to be pissed, and he had spent the last three years praying for her to be there when he got him, but he never expected to hear hate in her voice. Their lives had been set, and they had been inseparable for nearly four years. They were going to get married, raise a family, and sure, she was pissed at him, but had she really given up on him? Looking over his shoulder, he could see that Hannah had made no move to follow him. She stood in the middle of the road, arms folded, watching him leave.

  "Are you coming?" he said, stopping. Hannah flashed him a look that could have killed a weaker man, and shook her head.

  "You have to be kidding, right? You’ve been drinking, and you're more pissed than a caged polecat. I’m not going anywhere with you."

  Gunner considered this for a moment, but he knew she was right. “Fine” he said, stepping out onto the street and hailing a passing cab.

  I have to get out of here, Hannah told herself. Gunner was determined to win her back, and he would not let her rest until he got his way. Joining Gunner beside the cab, Hannah tried to slide in, but Gunner blocked her entrance. He slung his arm across the top of the passenger door, and leaned in close. Hannah's mouth went dry and she felt the palms of her hands start to grow clammy.

  "Baby, I love you," he whispered. Gunner's eyes searched Hannah's, looking for some glimmer of hope, but he found none. "Please, don’t give up on me yet."

  Gunner pushed himself off the car, allowing Hannah to get into the cab, his eyes never leaving her. Hannah opened her mouth to say something, but the words would not come. Slamming the cab door behind her, she motioned for the driver to start driving, leaving Gunner standing there, watching Hannah leave him once again. What he didn't hear was the sound of Hannah's own heart breaking as she once again left the only man she had ever – or would ever – love.

  Chapter Four

  Charlie chatted away happily to herself and anyone who would listen as she sat coloring in the booth, while Hannah cashed up her float after her shift at the diner.

  "Hey, baby," Hannah said, sliding into the booth next to Charlie, who beamed up at her. God, I love this kid, Hannah thought, as she pulled Charlie closer to her, kissing her soft hair. On days like this, when the days ran one into another and Hannah thought this would be her life forever, one smile was all she needed to find strength.

  Looking up, Hannah saw her friend approach their booth with a plate piled high with food.

  "Thank you," Hannah said, as Grace gently slid the plate onto the table. "I would do anything for this little one. I'm just sorry I can't join you. Some of us have to keep working and all that."

  Grace winked at Hannah before turning her attention to Charlie, who giggled in delight at Grace's tickle onslaught. Grace straightened, standing, watching Charlie fondly as she grabbed handfuls of fries and tried to shove them all in her mouth at once. Wiping her face, Charlie struggled under Grace's furious attack. She couldn't help but laugh. Charlie was fiercely independent.

  Just like her dad, Hannah thought sadly. She could see so much of him in Charlie; her vivid, green eyes with yellow flecks and mass of blonde curls were all the same features that made Hannah fall in love with him in the first place. A silent hush came over the diner, and from behind her, Hannah could hear the sound of boot-clad feet approaching.

  "Someone told me I could find you here," Gunner said.

  Hannah’s heart sank as she noticed him. Turning to face him, she saw him standing there in full club regalia. He looked fierce but handsome, and every inch the man she had fallen in love with so many summers ago.

  "And, that's my cue to leave," Grace said, hastily heading back toward the safety of the counter.

  "Hey, no cuts or patches in here," Steve called from behind the till. Gunner turned to face him, his eyes narrowing.

  "I’ll only be a minute," Gunner promised. Steve considered this for a moment, and then shrugged; the last thing he wanted was trouble with the James brothers. Gunner slid into the booth opposite Hannah and, for the first time, his eyes drifted over to Charlie.

  "Hey, who’s this?"

  “Warlie!” Charlie exclaimed proudly. She seemed fascinated with the man who sat before her, unperturbed by his leather-clad uniform. Gunner's eyes lifted from Charlie's face and met Hannah's who looked away.

  "This is Charlie." Hannah was acutely aware that every person in the diner was looking at her and Gunner. Gunner nodded slowly,

  “Want to go for a walk?” Gunner asked, and Hannah blew out a sigh of relief.

  Conflict strived on in Gunner. Here he was, sitting opposite a child that was his spitting image and the woman he loved, and all he wanted to do was scream and demand the truth from Hannah. But that was what the old Gunner would do, and that was someone he no longer wanted to be.

  “Outside!” Charlie exclaimed, pointing in the direction of the door. Hannah hesitated, but she knew her time was up. Wiping the ketchup stains from around Charlie's mouth, she lifted the toddler down off the seat and held her hand firmly as they headed to the door.

  “You gonna be alright?” Steve called from behind the counter. Hannah turned and smiled at him. She would be okay. Her relationship with Gunner was complicated, but she knew he would never raise his hand to a woman.

  "I'll be fine Steve. I'll see you tomorrow."

  They walked in silence until they reached the park on the nearby corner. Charlie swung on Hannah's arm, recharged from her lunch, and she was ready to play. The day was warm and bright. The sun shone bright in the sky, forming a dappled pattern on the ground as it peeked through the trees and onto the grass. Charlie ran and skipped ahead, oblivious to the tension between the pair.

  "How have you been, Hannah?"
Gunner said, finally breaking the silence.

  "I'm good, Gunner. It took a long time to get here, but I'm finally good." Hannah said, looking up toward Gunner who nodded slowly.

  "I missed you, Hannah. Being away from you all those years was the hardest thing I have ever had to do." His words tore at Hannah's soul. This was her Gunner – soft, kind, and the complete opposite to the Gunner he was in public. If only he could be this Gunner all the time, Hannah thought, then we might have stood a chance.

  "Gunner," Hannah started. "You left, and I had to pick up the pieces of my broken heart. I had to move on with my life. I’m seeing Rich and I'm happy." And she meant it. She was happy enough.

  "Don't you think it tore at my very soul, having to leave you behind? This time, it wasn't my fault!" Hannah stopped and turned to face Gunner, keeping a close eye on Charlie who played up ahead.

  "It's never your fault, Gunner. You chose this life and I respect that, but that doesn't mean it's my life. I have Charlie to think about now."

  "Is Charlie mine?" Gunner asked, his eyes burning into Hannah's. Every fiber in her body told her to lie, to claim that Charlie was the product of a one night stand.

  "Charlie's mine, Gunner. That's all she knows and that's all she's going to know.” Up ahead, the sound of Charlie's tinkling laughter filled the air as she chased a butterfly through the park on her short legs. Silence stretched for a few minutes, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

  "Why didn’t you tell me?" Gunner said, accusingly.

  "I made a decision based on what was best for Charlie, not you and me."

  "You'd keep me from my own daughter?" Hannah flinched at the obvious hurt in Gunner's voice, but she had a right to be angry as well; he had left her all alone with a baby on the way.

  "What kind of life is this, Gunner? How can you provide for a child if you never know if you're going to be there?"

  "I told you we were going straight."

  "You told me you were going straight, then less than two weeks later, you get handed a three-year prison sentence for drug trafficking. I believed you, Gunner, and you made a fool of me." Gunner blanched. He knew it had let Hannah down and he had let himself down. He had meant it at the time about going straight, but he hadn't counted on old debts that needed to be settled.

  "I told you, Hannah, in the hundreds of letters that I wrote that you never replied to, that we were innocent, we were stitched up."

  "Now what, Gunner? Now that your back, what happens now?"

  "I'm going to get my retribution, and then we go back and focus on the garage; build it up as a legit business."

  "So, you want me to tell Charlie you're her daddy, but then you tell me you want revenge. Then what? You end up in prison for the rest of her life? No, Gunner." Hannah shook her head sadly. She could see the pain in Gunner's eyes. He had grown up without a father; his own always in and out of jail until, eventually, he was killed in a firefight between warring clubs.

  "You're right," Gunner admitted. "But I told you I've changed and there's nothing I won't do to have my family back."

  "I want to believe you, Gunner," Hannah started, her voice trailing off. They both knew how this had ended last time.

  "I'll prove it to you, Hannah," Gunner vowed. "You and Charlie will be mine if it's the last thing I do."

  Chapter Five

  "Did you know?" Gunner said, as he stormed through the clubrooms, searching out Cotton. The venom in his voice was audible, as he turned his wrath to Cotton who sat at the bar, nursing a beer.

  Cotton sighed. He knew this day would come, and he knew how Gunner would react. The boy had a temper and strong fists that he knew how to use. The last thing he wanted to do was provoke Gunner into using them. Cotton swiveled on his stool to face his accuser.

  "What exactly are you talking about, son?" Gunner came to a stop in front of Cotton, his fists clenched at his sides.

  "I think you know exactly what I mean." Gunner growled. "Hannah and Charlie."

  "I did." Cotton said evenly. He had decided long ago that there was no point in lying to Gunner; he was his leader and he owed him the truth.

  "Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Gunner said, slamming his fist down onto the bar. There was a clatter and the sound of glass shattering as the force on the bar sent bottles flying.

  Cotton raised an eyebrow and looked at the young man, but remained silent. Gunner caught Cotton's drift and took a deep breath, trying to calm the sea of emotion that coursed through his veins.

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "What good would it have done, son?" Cotton said, meeting Gunner's gaze.

  "I would have known that I had a daughter. We had a daughter." God, I love her. His throat tightened at the thought of Hannah and how much she had changed his life. She had saved him, and all Gunner wanted to do now was to be the man Hannah thought he was. But he felt conflicted between being the man Hannah wanted him to be, and being the man he was born to be. Gunner pulled out the stool next to Cotton and sat down, reaching over the bar and grabbing a beer. Wrenching off the cap, he took a long drink and thought for a moment.

  "Would it have changed anything? Would it have changed the fact that that little girl had to grow up without a father for the past two years?" Cotton asked. Gunner felt his throat tighten.

  "It would have given me hope," he admitted.

  "Hell boy, there's always hope. You just have to decide what's worth fighting for." Hannah and Charlie – that's what's worth fighting for, Gunner thought to himself.

  "You have to think about what you can offer that little girl. Charlie needs stability; someone who can be there for her as she grows. Being a con, well, that makes life not only twice as hard for you, but twice as hard for those you love."

  "Ex-con" Gunner said, sharply.

  "Ex-con and con, the world views you the same." No matter how angry he tried to be with Cotton, he knew he was right; being the daughter of Gunner James was not an easy life.

  Chapter Six

  Angling the bike toward the curb, Gunner switched off the motor and called to Hannah as she walked down the road toward him, laden with shopping bags. Bolt and Kit idled their bikes as they pulled up behind him, waiting to do their president's bidding.

  Gunner couldn't help but notice how tired Hannah looked, like she hadn't slept in days. It must be hard, her being alone with a child, he thought, and it’s all my damn fault.

  Hannah's head jerked up, swiveling in the direction of the sound of her name. Her face betrayed no emotion when she saw Gunner and his men waiting for her up ahead. Removing his helmet, Gunner swung in onto the handlebars and hopped off the bike, leaning against it as he watched her approach.

  "What are you up to, Gunner?" Hannah said, sighing and placing the heavy bags on the ground.

  "I saw you struggling and I thought I could give you a hand," Gunner said, raising an eyebrow as if the answer should have been obvious. "You know, you being the mother of my child and all."

  Hannah shook her head, was this just another play from Gunner to get into her good graces? "I'm fine, Gunner. I've made this trip a hundred times before. But thank you."

  Gunner's face darkened and his eyes trailed off into the distance. He was no longer listening to Hannah. Hannah frowned as she followed Gunner's gaze. Behind them, she could see two youths approaching, wearing cuts from a rival club. Their club was small, but their members were ruthless, and they had been after the James Brother territory for as long as Gunner could remember.

  "Gunner," Hannah started. The last thing this town needed was another club war. Atlas was still reeling from the devastation that the two clubs had wrought only a few short years ago when the streets had run red, and the body count was high on both sides.

  "They stitched us up, Hannah," Gunner said through gritted teeth. Hannah gently laid her hand on Gunners arm.

  "But, you're out now and that's all that matters," she whispered. Gunner's eyes drifted back toward Hannah and, for the first time
, he saw a glimmer of hope. From their position, they could see that the two youths had now noticed them, their pace quickening as they made out the members of their enemy club.

  "Get out of here," Gunner warned Hannah. She shook her head.

  "I’m not leaving."

  "We don’t want any trouble," Gunner called as the two men approached, spreading his palms.

  "Then, you shouldn't have come over to our side of town. I thought the rules were pretty clear," the older of the pair sneered. They showed no finesse; they were simply thugs. Gunner's contempt for their club was shared by the people of the town, but in public, they steered clear of choosing any sides.

  "Yeah, you’re right, man," Gunner said through gritted teeth.

  Hannah raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. His response surprised her. Usually, Gunner's comments were smart-mouthed, aimed at provoking the young men to respond with their fists. Maybe he has changed, Hannah thought.

  "Well, now we have a problem," the older youth spoke again. Gunner could feel Bolt and Kit tense behind him, ready to defend their president at a moment's notice. He flicked his finger casually in their direction, ordering them to stand down. These youths didn't need any provocation to throw the first punch.

  "We don’t have to have a problem," Gunner said, casually. "Me and my men can simply be on our way. No harm, no foul."

  "Pussy," the younger youth sneered.

  Gunner's jaw tightened. Had this been the Gunner of a few years ago, he would have put these two in their place. Now, he was trying desperately to prove he could go straight and win a place in Hannah and Charlie's lives. He could feel Bolt and Kit's eyes burning into his back, their leader's response perplexing them. In their eyes, these boys deserved to be put in their place with a few well aimed punches. Gunner rose from his position, leaning against his bike. He was taller and more muscular than the pair, and they knew it.