Biker's Little Secret: Carolina Devils MC

by Brook Wilder

  “Dax, don’t shut me out. You’re my best friend.”

  “Well, which is it, Fawn? Do you want to keep me at arm’s length, or do you want to risk letting our feelings getting the best of us again?” He looked down at me, his words equally soft and forceful at the same time.

  I didn’t feel like that was a decision I could make at the time. He knew I was coming back home to get away from my failed relationship – I’d told him as much. And when he mentioned his ex, I could tell there was still a lot of pain there.

  “I think we need to remember that we’re friends first and foremost. I think last night we were overwhelmed by seeing each other for the first time in eight years. I mean, your dad’s funeral doesn’t count.”

  “Yeah, that was in passing. We spoke and hugged, and you were gone.” He laughed like it genuinely amused him how briefly we saw each other then.

  I shook my head. “I couldn’t handle it then,” I admitted. “Losing him, watching my dad’s reaction, seeing you – it was all too much.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I knew you were busy and had to get back to your life. Is that what’s happening now?” He put his hands on my shoulders and started to pull me close to him. It wasn’t a romantic embrace; he was hugging me as a friend, comforting me and assuring me that we were fine.

  “I don’t know what’s happening now. I’m not running back out of state or anything like that. I’m going to be right here, and you’re in this with me.” I jabbed him in the gut. “Unless, of course, you’re going to abandon your post altogether, but what would my dad think?”

  “No thank you. That’s not a conversation I look forward to having with him anytime soon.” He laughed and released me from his embrace.

  “Everything’s going to be fine, Dax. Give me some time. Give us some time, okay? It’s great that we were there for each other yesterday, and I wouldn’t take it back if I could, but I think we need to keep things platonic.”

  “Again, I’m sorry, but okay. We can play it straight for a while, keep it as just friends.” He put a fist to my shoulder and gave me a little shove.

  I wished it didn’t have to be the way it was, but I wasn’t going to share that thought with him. We were both damaged goods. I knew that if I allowed myself to get involved too deeply with Dax, he would only wind up leaving me the same way Frank did. My career would take me away from him, and he wouldn’t wait around, not when he could have his pick of girls in the area. I was sure he’d been with plenty of them over the years, too. Someone as charming as Dax? There was no way he would pass up what was right in front of him for something that would make him wait.

  “I’m gonna head out then and let you get back to cleaning and unpacking. Call me if you need anything.”

  I nodded. “Sure thing, and thanks for being here.”

  We stood and stared at each other a moment. The memory of what we’d done weighed on us, making the moment awkward. We both felt like there was something missing – a hug, a kiss, or possibly something we should have said.

  “Alright, so tomorrow?”

  “You got it.” I grinned as he took to my steps again and walked to his bike. He fired it up, and the engine roared through my neighborhood as he pulled away.

  The ride home on his bike from the clubhouse that morning had been horrifying. I had never liked motorcycles, and I’d always had a rule about dating bikers. They were too much for me. I wanted someone who could settle down, raise a family. I didn’t want someone running off every time I turned my back.

  Even if Dax hadn’t been that kind of person, even if he hadn’t grown up among the Carolina Devils, living their lifestyle, his own experience with loss made him a flight risk. There was no point in even trying with him. I knew that once we got close, he would probably freak out and hit the road. Hell, I knew even I was likely to do it.

  “That’s enough,” I told myself. “You’ve got stuff to do.”

  I turned back toward my door and unlocked it. Before walking in, I checked over my shoulder again, looking for the guys Dax had assigned to watch the condo while he was gone. I actually expected to see him standing at the bottom of the steps again, ready to come up.

  The Dax I had known growing up wouldn’t have taken no as an answer so easily. He would have insisted until I let him inside, regardless of what happened after that, though I knew exactly what would have happened if he’d come into the new place. It would have been the same thing, which I felt should have told me something about our friendship, but I refused to believe it. We needed to leave things alone, to leave them as they were.

  I closed the door and let myself breathe. Everything on the other side of that door, outside my home, could wait until later. It didn’t have to follow me inside. What I needed was a shower, a glass of wine, a good night’s rest, pretty much in that order. The wine and shower could be rearranged, but both had to happen before sleep.

  “From one mess you made to another, huh?” I looked around at the boxes that were left to be unpacked and the cleaning that still needed to be done. I didn’t have it in me to work on it. I set my purse on the couch and went straight to the kitchen.

  The shower was definitely going to have to wait until after the glass of wine.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dax

  Hey, I’m at your door. Everything okay?

  I texted Fawn when she didn’t answer the door after a few knocks. We hadn’t been that talkative over the last couple of months, but she was almost always ready to go when I showed up to follow her to work. Hell, most days she was waiting on me, keeping watch from one of the windows so I didn’t even have to get off the bike. This morning was different, though. I’d felt it when I left the clubhouse.

  Maybe it was the culmination of a few different things over the last few months that tipped me off, but somehow I knew things were about to change when I got up and hopped on the back of my motorcycle. Our routine had left a lot to be desired, but it had worked for the time being. We’d had no problems with each other or with anyone else. I showed up at her condo and followed her to work. I waited on the bike until she was inside, and then I left. I would go handle business with the MC, and I would be back before she got off work. I’d follow her home, wait for her to get inside, and head out.

  Day after day, that was how we’d done things, but it had never felt right. It didn’t feel like enough, like we were missing something. There were too many opportunities or something, either missed ones for us or open ones for someone from the Wild Kids to step in and cause problems. It felt too impersonal; that was it – too removed.

  We had agreed to keep things platonic, but we’d gone further than that, I felt. I had gone from being her bodyguard or babysitter to only being her escort to and from work. We had even gone beyond a simply professional relationship. I was a shadow. I followed her and disappeared when she got where she was going. After weeks and weeks of doing that, it made sense – at least to me – that I would feel uncomfortable going to follow her to work.

  When she didn’t respond to my text, I tried calling her. It rang through and went to voicemail. My heart froze then. That really wasn’t like her. I took a long look around outside as I pulled out the emergency key Dan had made for me, in case I ever needed to get inside. I hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, but if I’d been honest with myself, it was because I’d been getting lazy over the last few months.

  I hadn’t been paying as much attention to the things around me as I probably should have, but I decided there was no use in beating myself up over it. There was probably nothing wrong. She had likely overslept or something. We all had those days. Still, I carefully looked around for anyone or anything that might have been out of place. There was nothing.

  I used the extra key and opened her front door. I felt strange, like I was intruding into her home. The distance we’d put between us made me feel like a stranger, but I was only doing what I had to at the moment to make sure she was alright. I reasoned with myself that she’d lef
t me no other choice.

  “Fawn?”

  I took half a step inside her front door, putting the key back in my pocket. My voice fell flat in her silent home. I listened for a response but didn’t hear anything. As I took another step, I closed her door with one hand and pulled my gun with the other.

  “Fawn.”

  I tried again, my voice an urgent whisper. Still, there was nothing, only silence so profound it threatened to swallow any sound I made. It was frustrating. I didn’t want to shout; the condo was as quiet as a tomb, making me want to check my volume. I also felt like someone was waiting for me inside. It would have been too easy to set me up by holding her hostage in her own home.

  “Anybody home?”

  I allowed my voice to ring out a little louder, hoping to get some response, from someone. There was still nothing, though. I didn’t like it. It was too quiet. There should have been something – snoring, the sound of a shower, the radio in the bathroom, or even footsteps. I should have been able to hear something.

  I barely even breathed while I listened to any little sound. My stomach sank at the silence. I was really starting to feel like I’d been set up. We’d had a few good, quiet months since she got back. The Wild Kids hadn’t pulled anything. We hadn’t heard anything out of them in some time. But that only meant we were overdue, not that we were out of the woods with them. The silence in Fawn’s condo served as an all too real reminder of that fact.

  She was an easy target, and we’d gotten lazy. We’d been so lazy, taking their inactivity for granted. If anything had happened to her . . . .

  No. I pushed the thoughts out of my head. I had a job to do, and part of that job wasn’t letting my emotions get the best of me. Right then, my job was to find her and make sure she was alright.

  Gun in hand, I crept through the first story of her home, checking every room, ready to end any Wild Kid I found hiding out. But there wasn’t anyone downstairs, so I headed up. I took the steps slowly, working to monitor my breathing and my heart rate. Even the slightest breath sounded like it was being broadcast over a loudspeaker. Even my thoughts seemed to shout.

  The air conditioner kicked on as I reached the top of the stairs, and I spun around, gun aimed and ready, but there wasn’t anyone there. I laughed at myself for being so damn jumpy and put the gun away, realizing how silly I must have looked, creeping through her condo with my gun drawn like I expected the bad guys to jump out.

  That was when I noticed the light on in her bathroom. It spilled across the bedroom floor. It was the only light I had seen on since I walked in. I was immediately back in the zone, drawing the gun and crouching down as I crept through her room. I glanced around me to make sure no one else was present, but as I reached the bathroom, I realized I had no need for the gun. There wasn’t anyone else in the condo other than the two of us. I also saw why she hadn’t been able to answer the door or her phone.

  As I slid my gun back into the waist of my jeans and stepped into the doorway, I saw that Fawn was on her knees in front of the toilet, hugging the bowl. She looked like she’d been put through the wringer. I immediately went to her side.

  “Oh my god, Fawn, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be alright. This is normal.” She put up a hand to hold me back.

  “Normal? So, what? You’ve been drinking too much wine at night?”

  While I was trying to joke with her to lighten her spirits, I went through the cabinets in her bathroom, looking for a rag to use. I finally found the perfect one – an old worn out washcloth that was on its last leg – and ran some water over it to get it a little damp. Then, I folded it over and put it on the back of her neck as I knelt down at her side.

  “Actually, I haven’t had any wine or anything like that in over a month.” Her voice sounded exhausted. She panted while she talked. She put her hand on the rag on the back of her neck, and I reached up to flush whatever she’d left in the toilet.

  Hanging around the MC, it wasn’t that uncommon to have to clean up after someone who’d gotten sick, but the guys usually got sick from drinking too much. I hadn’t had to clean up after too many who’d been legitimately sick, which was what Fawn seemed to be. She certainly didn’t talk or smell like someone who was emptying their gut of alcohol.

  That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give her shit about it until I knew what was going on, or that she was, for sure, going to be alright.

  “So, what – are you giving up alcohol or something?”

  I helped her get up and walked her back into her bedroom, where she sat down on the edge of the bed. She shot me an unamused look – I couldn’t have imagined anyone looking less amused than she did at that moment. She took the washcloth off her neck and put it on her forehead.

  “Yeah, something like that.” She rolled her neck and started to get up again. She turned green around the gills as she tried, and I quickly moved back to her side, holding her steady.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, laughing.

  “I’ve got to go to work.”

  “No, not in this condition.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.” She tried to shrug my hand off her shoulder, but she could only manage the smallest movement.

  “Nah, not today. You need to lie down. Stay home and get some rest before you make it worse.”

  She groaned but didn’t resist. She sat back down on the bed and let me push her over onto her side – she shook her head when I tried to put her onto her back. She kept the cloth on her head and let me pull the covers up over her. She gave me a weak laugh after I got her tucked in.

  “You’re really taking this babysitting gig seriously, aren’t you?”

  “Oh yeah, of course. You didn’t know? I wanted to be a babysitter when I grew up, but I wound up in the MC instead; had to put my dreams on hold, I guess.” I sat next to her on the bed and rubbed her leg through the blanket.

  “I don’t want to call in sick, Dax,” she groaned again.

  “You need to. You’re a mess. No offense. So, you said this wouldn’t be the first time you went into work like this. What’s been going on with you?”

  I hadn’t noticed anything strange. Every day when I picked her up, she’d seemed fine. There had been no signs that she was sick or that anything was wrong. I didn’t understand; was she telling me she’d been hiding it from me this whole time?

  “I’m not sick, Dax.”

  I laughed and looked down at her face. “You seem pretty sick to me right . . . now.” My words slowed as it started to dawn on me what was going on.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Two simple words. That was all she needed to say, and I was floored. I still didn’t understand. How? Who?

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. Congratulations? Who’s the father?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Who else would it be?”

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “It’s not like we’ve really talked much over the last few months. I follow you to and from work, and we don’t even stop to talk at the parking deck or at your door. We keep it pretty professional and distant, so have you been seeing someone? Did Frank come back into the picture?” I knew who it was; deep down, I knew, but I didn’t want to admit it.

  “God no.” She chuckled. “But good job on the passive-aggressive response there.”

  “I’m not really trying to be . . .” I started to explain, but she cut me off.

  “It’s you, Dax. The baby is yours.”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded, my jaw on the floor, and she pushed the covers back to get up. She took the washcloth back into the bathroom with her. I was worried she was going to be sick again, but instead of going to the toilet, she turned on the water in the sink. It sounded like she was cleaning up.

  Pregnant. And I was the father. But I thought we’d been careful.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Dax

  “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

  It was the first thing she’d said after g
etting into her car with me. She had agreed to let me drive her to work in her car so we could talk, but she’d been quiet as a mouse since we left the condo. Her first words sounded remorseful, but I couldn’t tell if she regretted the fact that I had seen her sick or the fact that I knew she was pregnant now.

  “I’m going to be late.” She groaned, exasperated. “And to think, you almost talked me into staying home. My boss would understand, I’m sure. They know what’s going on at work.”

  “Wow.” I blurted it out. I couldn’t believe they knew before I did.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  That did not sound remorseful. That statement sounded flat, like she was saying it because she felt like it was the right thing to say. I didn’t know the right thing to say, but that was okay, because my mouth had its own ideas.