by Vixen, Jayna
Dax pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly, the feel of his lips on her own igniting a sweet hot fire that thrummed through her blood and centered between her legs.
“Believe it, baby. Not sure how long we’ll be stateside, but I wanted Sirena to feel at home here.”
“That’s so…sweet.” And it was a fucking turn on.
“I think that might be the first time anyone ever called me that.”
His voice was gruff but she could hear the male pride lacing his tone.
“Thank you.”
“Actions speak louder than words, little girl.”
With that, Dax picked her up bodily and carried her into the bedroom, where he proceeded to remove her clothing piece by piece, kissing the sensitized flesh he uncovered with agonizing, deliberate slowness. He had her begging in five minutes flat. Afterwards, as Rhee stretched, her hand on her belly—on that maybe baby—she wondered if his intent was to wear her out so that she could sleep.
Well, it worked. Sated and exhausted, they both slept like the dead until until Sirena came wandering into their room, confused but curious as well.
“New house?”
“Yeah, baby. Climb in here.”
“Where Manali?” her chubby little chin quavered.
“We’ll see her soon, baby. Promise. We’re just on a little vacation.”
Dax nestled Sirena between them. Ah, morning snuggles. They had a special way of making problems seem far away. But as it turned out, problems were dancing closer and closer, on the horizon of their happily ever after—threatening to take it all away in a big tidal wave of shit.
***
It had been a few days and they were all still adjusting to being back in Darling. Dax was tense and irritated to the point that Rhee was afraid to make demands, but she wanted to see the guys—Hawk and Gray, especially. She wanted them to meet Sirena. But, there was excuse after excuse about why the clubhouse was off-limits right now. Rhee sighed. If he wasn’t fucking her or trying to fuck her morning, noon, and night, she’d be worried.
Goddamn it, they have to make these pee sticks easier to use.
Rhee was sick to death of peeing on her hand. After remembering that hormone levels were typically higher in the morning, she was trying to test right when she woke up, but Sirena usually had other plans. She had to go potty, she wanted her milk, she was starving...it was all part of the typical mom routine and Rhee loved it, but it was damn near impossible to pee on a stick the second she got up, let alone hide what she was doing from her very perceptive three-year old.
Oh, she could hear it now. The questions could come at any time, to anybody. Most of the time, Sirena’s random comments were to complete strangers.
At the grocery store. The gas station. The local burger joint.
“Do ya know? My mommy pees on sticks!”
Rhee was not yet used to this stage—when her daughter blurted out things related to bodily functions and other embarrassing things in the most inappropriate places. Dax thought it was hilarious. Rhee was still trying to decide how to respond to her comments and questions.
Fuck, still negative. So why do I feel bloated and hormonal?
Her boobs hurt. She was tired. Moody. All of that equaled pregnant, didn’t it? Rhee didn’t recall having many pregnancy symptoms early on with Sirena, but the end of her pregnancy was hell, pure and simple.
Dax needs to hook me up with a doctor.
Later, Rhee would remember that thought and wonder about it. Because that innocent little mental comment turned out to be a premonition of something that was going to shake things up even more. That something—or someone—rang Dax’s doorbell a few moments later.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bingo! This has got to be what we’re looking for.
Around two in the morning, Wince was finally into the federal database. He bypassed a bunch of firewalls and gained access to some very high-level emails. One of the exchanges had a file attached to it. It was encrypted, but it only took him a few more hours to crack the code and open a spreadsheet that detailed safe houses, occupants, and agents.
Fuckers should have hired me.
His heart was beating fast as he opened the document and scanned it. Then, he scanned it again. Her name wasn’t there.
No Michaela Blake.
Wince stared at his computer screen. His fucking eyes were crossing. Every road he went down on the wayward sister search lead to a dead end. Carter was on loan to the feds and the new guy was on their payroll but he was really green—the kid was no help at all.
He had exhausted his leads.
Where the fuck is she?
If he couldn’t find a trace of her, it could only mean one thing. He refused to accept that because it meant that they would never learn the truth. Rhee would never know what happened and that would be worse than confirming a tragedy.
Wince was tired and he knew that the best thing to do would be to try to turn off his mind and sleep. But, he couldn’t. When he had spoken to Dax earlier in the day and heard that Rhee was having a hard time being back in Darling, Wince got all fired up. The final strains of the yard party drifted to his ears but he just wasn’t into it. Sighing to himself, Wince pulled open Google and realized that while he had investigated everything he could find through the local department and the feds, there was one very simple thing he hadn’t done.
They had never done a search on the Blakes…on the family. That prickle that he used to feel just before he hacked into a secured site began to dance a jig on the back of his neck. The sensation told him he was on to something. They knew next to nothing about Rhee’s parents. She had told them the basics: her parents were dead. Her childhood was rough. But…that was about it. It was a major oversight.
What if Mickey’s disappearance had nothing to do with Salazar and witness protection?
Wince attacked the keyboard with renewed vigor. It took a few minutes but then he found an article archived in the newspaper from the town where Mickey and Rhee were raised.
“Two Fatalities Confirmed in Fiery Crash.”
Shit. It was going to be long night.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Wow. You’re the last person I expected to see.”
The woman’s eyes reflected surprise but no malice. Her voice sparked memories.
And guilt.
Rhee swallowed hard. “Hello, Trish.”
“What did he call you? Stowaway, right?”
Rhee swallowed, sizing up the woman who stood on Dax’s doorstep. Trish looked great. She wore her sleek blond hair pulled away from her face, revealing her high cheekbones. Trish was still slender, too, but her fitted sweater did nothing to hide the size of her chest. Yeah, the woman was still hot, probably still a doctor, and more than likely wanted to deck Rhee in the face.
“It’s Rhiannon—Rhee.”
“Yes, I remember.” Trish said, with a hint of sarcasm. “So…is he here?”
Rhee felt her blood go cold. What did Trish want? Would seeing her stir up old feelings for Dax? And…did Trish know what had happened? That Dax had taken Rhee’s virginity while he was still with Trish? That Rhee had given birth to his child?
Her concern must have shown clearly on her face because Trish suddenly laughed and reached out to touch Rhee’s arm.
“Hey, it’s okay. It was a long time ago. And he and I…we were never meant to be.”
So she did know. Yikes.
“I—I never got to say how sorry I was for what happened. For what it’s worth, I tried to resist him. I was young...”
Her explanation sounded lame, even to Rhee’s ears. So, she was all the more taken aback when Trish offered a smile. “I should have figured he’d be at the compound. I guess I’m not thinking very clearly these days. There’s something I need to say to Dax, but now that I’m here, I think I would feel better telling someone else first.”
Rhee glanced back into the house. All was quiet. With any luck, Sirena would sleep another thirty
minutes. She looked back at Trish, standing on the doorstep, and caught a look of vulnerability on her face. Trish covered it up quickly but Rhee knew that look and she just couldn’t turn Dax’s ex away.
“Sure. I’ll make us some tea.”
“That sounds great.”
As if life couldn’t get any more bizarre, Rhee found herself sitting at Dax’s kitchen table sharing a pot of chamomile tea with the woman who had patched her up so many years ago.
I thanked her by fucking her boyfriend and having his baby, she scolded herself. Rhee’s cheeks heated.
Trish sipped her tea and cleared her throat delicately. “This is good, thank you.”
Rhee shifted uncomfortably.
Finally, Trish broke the awkward silence. “Well, this is awkward.”
Rhee let out a nervous titter. Then, Trish laughed too.
“Listen, Rhiannon, I appreciate your willingness to sit down with me like this.”
“I feel so bad. You have to know that. It was just Dax…and he was so…”
Trish smiled, showing her perfect white teeth. “Yeah, Dax is so….I know.”
Another round of awkward giggling ensued. Rhee looked down at her tea as Trish began to talk.
“Dax and I didn’t exactly keep in touch, as I’m sure you know. Well, he may be keeping tabs on me, but I haven’t seen or spoken to the man for years. It was a nasty breakup, Rhiannon.”
Rhee couldn’t fathom how she came to be sitting here, in Dax’s house, consoling his ex. Rhee wasn’t sure if Trish knew that Dax had cheated on her. It seemed like she thought that Dax and Rhee had hooked up after she was out of the picture. That was a much more bearable story than the truth, and Rhee found herself determined to keep it that way. At this point, the truth would only hurt Trish.
Trish traced her index finger around the rim of her cup. “We met in high school. Typical story: Rich girl meets bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks. We really loved each other. I’m sorry—that must be hard for you to hear.”
Actually…it wasn’t. “Please, go on.”
“I came here to tell Dax the truth—why I pushed him so hard to marry me and agree to start trying for a baby. I need to get this off my chest—it’s been weighing on me. Normally, I would never seek him out, but there may not be much time.”
“What do you mean?”
Trish took a deep breath. “I have a medical condition, Rhiannon. A clot. It’s inoperable. There’s a chance it could just…dissolve, but it’s pretty big. And it’s in my brain.”
“Oh, God.”
Trish shrugged. “I’m a doctor. I know my chances are slim, but I’m hopeful. Still, I’m trying to put things in order. Right my wrongs.”
“What wrong are you trying to right with Dax?”
Trish smiled again but this time, her expression was sad and haunted. “I was pregnant.”
Rhee felt all of the color drain from her face. Her hands gripped the sides of her chair so hard she felt her nails digging into the wood. Oh, God. What if…what if…Dax has another child? They’d be about the same age, too.
“Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“You—you were pregnant?” Rhee repeated, unable to fully comprehend what was happening here.
“Yes. I was pregnant.”
“And—and Dax…didn’t know?” Of course he didn’t know. How could he have known? Wait…something about this story didn’t make sense…
“Dax wasn’t the father, Rhiannon.” Trish colored slightly at her admission.
“I don’t understand.” Oh my God, the irony…
“Well, just like your earlier explanation, all I can say is that I was young. Me and Dax…our relationship just seemed so unstable. I was at school all the time and he chose the club and his life here. He could have come with me. But he didn’t.”
So that made it okay to cheat on him? Rhee chased away her hypocritical thought.
“Chad was the resident advisor at the hospital where I interned. He was older. Established. Brilliant. But, he didn’t want a baby. In fact, when I told him about our child, he transferred hospitals. I thought about an abortion but I couldn’t do that. I know about development. I believe life starts at conception.”
Rhee narrowed her eyes at Trish. So, you thought you’d trick Dax into thinking the baby was his?
“What could I do? I couldn’t throw everything that I had worked so hard for away. So, I ran back to my old stand-by—the one man I knew would never leave me. Dax was my only hope.”
Trish sighed heavily. “Things weren’t going well between Dax and me. There had been a lot of distance—for years. I was desperate. I gave him an ultimatum—right around the time you took off to look for your sister.”
Is that what Dax told her? Maybe that’s what he thought at the time. Shit. Just when I think the past is in the past…
“It was stupid, I know. My Dad was gone. I just wanted—-needed—the security of a relationship. In some ways, maybe I needed to prove to myself that I could still have Dax. I needed the protection a marriage would provide. Oh, the fuckers who staff hospitals would never admit it, but a single, knocked up chick is perceived very differently than an engaged or married knocked up chick.”
Trish took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Wow, sorry for the information dump. God, it feels good to tell someone all of this. Thank you for listening. Are you okay, Rhiannon?”
Rhee nodded, but that was all she could do. She was mute with disbelief. Trish...gorgeous, intelligent, privileged Trish, had gotten herself into the same damn situation Rhee had.
“How…I mean, didn’t you use protection?” she squeaked.
Trish laughed derisively. “It broke. Once. Do you know how small the chances are of getting pregnant that way? Slim to none.”
“I’m sorry, Trish. Really. It must have been so difficult for you.” Questions swirled in Rhee’s brain—ones that she wasn’t comfortable asking just yet.
Where is your child? Did you give up medicine to raise him or her?
“Well, it turned out that the really difficult part was yet to come. Dax and I broke up. It wasn’t amicable, to say the least. I swore I would never trust a man again. Maybe it was the stress...”
“What happened?”
“I miscarried at twenty-one weeks. It was a boy.”
“Oh, God.” Twenty-one weeks! That was like a still-birth.
“And you want to tell Dax all of this?”
“I used him, Rhiannon. More than once. I always used Dax to run away from my charmed little life or to fix my problems. Dax loved me. I hurt him. I need him to hear me out. I want—I need—his forgiveness. To move on.”
Rhee was pretty sure that Dax was going to flip out when he heard all of this. Forgiveness? Doubtful. But, Rhee understood why Trish needed to get this burden off of her chest.
“I—he’s at the compound. We…we don’t stay here, you know. Um, there have been a lot of changes lately. We came to visit so he could take care of some business. I haven’t been to the clubhouse yet.”
“I don’t think I could walk in there alone. Not now.” Trish looked at Rhee hopefully. “Are you busy this evening? Could you maybe spare an hour? If I went in with you, I might have a chance to say something before he kicks me out on my ass.”
Rhee glanced over Trish’s head. The door was slightly ajar so that Sirena could let herself out when she woke up. She could just reach the doorknob but turning it was somewhat of a challenge.
What am I going to do when she wakes up?
“Um…you know…he hasn’t been too keen on me going over there just yet. Maybe he doesn’t think it’s safe.” It was the truth, but it wasn’t the only reason she couldn’t go anywhere this afternoon.
Now, she definitely heard a noise. The toilet flushed. Trish whipped her head around. “Is someone else here?”
“Listen, Trish, there’s something I need to tell you too—and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
Trish’s brown
eyes were filled with confusion. “What do you mean? Who’s here?”
“Mama! I peed in da potty! And…I fwushed it!”
Sirena bounded into the room and made a beeline for Rhee, who had her eyes trained on Trish’s face.
Shock.
Confusion.
And then, as she took in Sirena’s white-blond hair and her piercing blue eyes…understanding.
“How old is she?” Trish asked, her voice sounding raw and ragged.
The very large cat was out of the bag. Rhee studied Trish carefully, watching the emotions flicker across the other woman’s face. She lied to Trish in the past. Even today, Rhee endeavored to keep the truth from Trish: that she slept with Dax while they were still technically together. Sirena was living proof of that one-time illicit affair. It felt awful and there was only one way to move forward. Rhee took a deep breath and did what was right, even though it was going to cause Trish more pain that she didn’t deserve.
She told her the truth.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The meeting room was empty. Dax liked it that way. It had been months since he was in this room—months since he had been in his seat at the table, running his thumb along the armrest of his chair. Dax had no idea who Hawk commissioned the hand-carved wooden chairs from—some company in ‘Nam, probably—but they were fucking sick. They were all dark maple with unique, personalized carvings for the members of the original crew—and Dax himself.
They seemed a little out of place in a biker compound, but when you sat in one of these babies, you felt like a goddamn king.
He pulled his chair from the covering that protected it. It was perhaps, an odd club rule, but nobody’s ass sat in your fucking chair. If you were inside—in jail—or, he supposed, working a special deal on an island, your chair was pulled aside and covered up with a sheet…to await your eventual return. If you met your maker—and Dax had only witnessed this happen the one time—all of your brothers sat their fat asses in your chair and drank to your memory. Then, they set it on fire and watched it burn, until there was nothing left but a bit of ash that the wind would eventually blow away.
Dax sat in silence for several moments, thinking about the man who had rescued him from the gutter and had given him a home. Crow and the Phantoms offered him what Dax thought he would never have—a family. Even as a young kid, Dax had been through a lot of shit, but burning Crow’s chair after his murder was one of the hardest damn things Dax had ever done. He remembered watching the regal bird carved into the back of Crow’s seat as the fire licked at its talons. Oddly, the wooden bird was the last thing to burn—its eyes glowed as the flames licked closer and closer...until it was nothing but dust.
