by Addison Jane
Gage has to.
And Shotgun has to also.
But as I looked down at the now dozing baby boy settled across Shotgun’s chest, Gage with his fist in his mouth, his body rising and falling with each of Shotgun’s breaths, I knew I couldn’t be angry. There’s no way she wouldn’t have fought with every part of her being to protect this little boy. I knew that without even having spoken two words to her.
I knew that because I could feel the way Shotgun cared about her.
Because of the way Meyah spoke of her.
And I was going to make sure Gage knew it too.
SHOTGUN
Austin’s police cruiser crawled into the compound, creeping slowly toward me as I stood just inside the roller doors.
“Kennedy and Angel are gonna follow us in Kennedy’s SUV. Plenty of room in that thing, but if we need extra, Laken’s at Dynasty taking orders, but she said she can meet us if need be,” Repo rambled off, his arms folded across his chest as he joined me. “You think we should be expecting any surprises?”
My head shook back and forth. “Austin said the husband is in court all day, and as of tomorrow, they were doing the last sweep of the place for evidence before having it cleaned. We’re taking anything that belongs to the baby. Things that will help him settle in.”
“You know we got you on this, right?” Myth added, stepping up on my other side, a wall of my brothers joining him. Shake, Auron, Crush, Mix, and Kid all stepping in line.
My brothers.
My family.
Ready to go to war for me.
Ready to catch me if I fell.
“Yeah,” I murmured with a nod.
They held their space for a few more seconds before falling back and returning to their jobs. Our club was still growing, still finding its feet, but with the way business was booming and only growing bigger, we were expecting transfers from all over the country in the next few months.
Some young.
Some older.
A couple of new prospects.
Phoenix was growing, and so was the extra pressure on my shoulders to keep my shit together.
“You good?” Avery’s soft concern allowed my shoulders to settle just a little, sinking down to a more relaxed position. She was the calm in this fucking storm that had begun to swirl around me, pulling me one way and then the next, trying to rip me to shreds.
I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she stepped up beside me, her eyes on the police car, a sleeping Gage in her arms, and her body swaying from side to side, unconsciously rocking him. His round cheeks were slightly flushed, his lips suckling softly like he thought he still had a bottle in his mouth—something I’d learned in these past twenty-four hours with him was one thing I couldn’t get enough of.
I was entranced by it.
Though, I was still struggling.
It was fucking hard when I so desperately wanted to be the father my dad wasn’t. But at the same time, being so scared that it was ingrained in me to fuck it up. My father tainted me. He ruined me. Ruined a moment in my life where I should be proud and excited to raise my son, by destroying that part of me that understood what a father should be because all I ever experienced from mine was pain. Disappointment. Failure.
I hated my father for the shitty genes he passed on to me, and all I could think about was how Gage was going to hate me for passing them down to him too. I knew I never wanted to be that man. I fought fucking hard to be stronger than the hand I’d been dealt.
But how am I—a man who killed his own fucking father with so much hate and malice—going to act all fucking holier-than-thou. Like I’m so much better than that bastard when I didn’t even blink, squeezing the trigger.
I felt pressure piling on my shoulders.
The only thing stopping the weight of my fucking problems from forcing me six feet deep right now—Avery.
She had gotten up during the night and made bottles.
Fed Gage.
Rocked him back to sleep.
I watched her love him in a way I knew he needed, everything about her so pure and loving, while my fear refused to let me accept that I wasn’t going to fuck him up the moment I decided to take that role. Instead, I sat up with her, not about to let her do it on her own because I may have been paralyzed with fear, but I wasn’t a fucking bastard.
Avery was the only thing keeping me grounded. Not just by looking after Gage, but by calling me out on my shit and reminding me exactly what family was, right when I needed it.
“Meyah’s interviewing nannies. I told her I’d go help since we are gonna need the help. Too. when I’m at school and Empire,” she announced, taking a step forward before I reached out and caught the back of her shirt. She paused, looking back at me over her shoulder. “Get Gage’s things, bring them back so we can really start to make him feel at home.”
“One day…”
You’ll be mine.
There was something that flashed in her eyes. It was usually always the same—a look of fear. This time though, it looked different, the soft brown orbs looking like, for a second, they warmed. “We’ll see, Mr. President.”
I couldn’t help but watch the way her hips swayed as she crossed the compound to Shake and Meyah’s apartment, a hard honking that snapped me from my daydream, earning Austin a middle finger.
“Let’s go,” he called, slamming his palm against the horn again. “I’ve got bastards to arrest, and if you don’t fucking move, I’ll make one of them you.”
“I’d like to see you try, pretty boy!”
The bright yellow crime-scene tape across the front door had me pausing while Austin just powered straight through it, tearing it down and tossing it to the side before jamming the key into the lock. He had to jiggle the key a little before he finally managed to twist then push the dirty white door open.
The apartment was older, not run down, but could have done with a little bit of work.
My lip curled as I stepped inside.
Austin urged me to go first with a nod of his head. “Try not to touch anything that you don’t need to,” he warned, falling into step behind me. “Technically, some shit hasn’t been bagged yet, and if I miss out on nailing this motherfucker because you got handsy… I’ll be fucking furious.”
I ignored him, pausing as the hallway opened into a small open-plan living area. There was a tiny, square, four-seater table pressed into the corner, looking like they were trying to make more space for the handful of baby toys spread across the tatty floor.
There was a bouncer and a little play gym with bright animals. Along with them was a spread of balls, blocks, and soft toys I knew he was still far too young to be playing with.
I could practically see her sitting with Gage, shaking the bright green monkey above him as he kicked his feet and giggled. It was the little things that showed just how loved he was. But that also had my stomach twisting and my feet eager to get the fuck out of there.
Away from this slap in the damn face.
Away from the reminder that I didn’t fucking do enough.
“Gather this stuff up,” I ordered, rolling my shoulders back and lifting my chin. Repo and Kennedy both stepped in, Kennedy smiling softly as she started to fold up the play mat and the toys beside it. “Anything that looks like his, grab it.”
“Photos?”
My body movement stopped, and I looked back to find Repo holding a frame, a picture of Emma standing to the side, her large pregnant stomach on show. Her hands are cradling it gently, the softness in her features and the smile on her face so fucking different to the way I’d left her that last day.
This Emma was happy, excited, at peace.
The Emma I saw last week was on edge.
Scared.
Helpless.
That was not the woman I knew, and it was not the woman I would share with Gage when he was old enough to start to ask about her. He was going to know her strength, her determination, her love for the world, and him. I owed her th
at fucking much, at least.
“Yes. Take photos. All of them.”
Austin tossed his hands in the air. “Hey, I need to keep the area like it is—”
“And my kid needs to know that his dead mother loved him,” I snapped, adjusting my club cut, trying to ignore the way Repo and Kennedy both paused and looked up at me in surprise. “So, I’m gonna take whatever I think is necessary to make sure he fucking understands that since the poor fucking bastard is going to have to settle with me being his damn father.”
Kennedy and Repo didn’t even flinch, neither giving a damn whether Austin told them to stop or not. He wasn’t in charge. I was.
“Fine, let them take shit,” he finally conceded, scratching at his jaw for at least thirty seconds before finally speaking up again. Like he was fighting, debating with his own thoughts. “There’s something I want you to see.” He walked off, not bothering to look back or even check to see if I’d follow.
He knew I would.
Because I couldn’t not.
I wanted to piece together exactly what the hell she thought she was doing.
I wanted to know everything.
At least I thought I fucking did, but my stomach screamed no, as I stepped into her bedroom and the bright red body-shaped stain on the stripped mattress almost had me throwing up today and yesterday’s lunch. It wasn’t just there, though.
It was on the walls.
The ceiling.
I’d seen blood, I’d taken lives, been ruthless, cold, and completely shut off. But I did those things because they held a purpose. Because they needed to be done. This looked like some small child had gotten hold of a ketchup bottle and squeezed.
This wasn’t a straight-minded person who felt like they needed revenge. This was an out-of-control psychopath who lost control of themself and his mind. Who let something else take over, something they couldn’t reel in.
“This is why I’m doing whatever the fuck I can to find one thing on this asshole. One fucking thing that could possibly point to him. Because if we’re right and the husband did this, then he is out of his goddamn mind and should not be walking the streets,” Austin announced when I couldn’t find the words to fucking explain.
He was right.
This type of crazy needed to be locked up. Or better yet, fucking put down like a rabid dog.
And with my heart in my throat and eyes on the blood-splattered picture of my son sitting on the nightstand, I swore I would be the fucking one to end this asshole.
Emma deserved that much.
And so did Gage.
“We’ll find him,” Austin announced with a sigh.
“You better hope so before I do.”
AVERY
“He’s gonna be handsome.” Adrian chuckled, gently rocking Gage in his arms.
I loved this man already. He was straightforward, proactive, and far too qualified to be a nanny—or a manny as he liked to call himself. Not only was he a paramedic, he was going to school for health science and physiotherapy. Which meant he was smart, athletic, and loved babies.
He honestly reminded me of one of the boys, minus the gym junkie outfit. He could probably walk into the clubhouse and fit right in with his sharp features, ripped body, and light stubble across his jaw.
“Shake said you can have our old room in the clubhouse,” Meyah announced, moving around the room, thumping lightly on Juliet’s shoulder, trying to find a burp. “It’s bigger than the other bedrooms, so you’ll have room to have the kids in there without it being too cramped. Or you can bring them over here and have them here. There are options. We just prefer they don’t spend too much time downstairs in the boys’ space.”
“Oh, I got ya,” he answered, his grin wide as he leaned down and tugged at Gage’s bottom lip, pulling at it softly then letting it go. Gage wiggled excitedly, not knowing what the hell was going on but entranced by the bright smile looking down at him. “So, I’m just gonna let you know when my classes are, and we can work out a timetable, hours, expectations?”
“Sounds good to me,” Meyah answered, looking over for my response.
I held up my hands. “I’m in, but technically it’s Shotgun’s choice.”
The front door to the apartment opened, and Shake called out. “Girls?”
“I think we’re about to get our first reaction.”
Adrian didn’t move, continuing to tease Gage, obviously unfazed by the big biker who suddenly appeared. Shake paused at the entranceway, his eyes moving from Meyah to Juliet to Adrian then back to his old lady. “You wanna start talking before I start assuming?” Shake warned, his voice a deep growl that even had me sitting at attention.
Meyah though, waved off the sharp warning like she was shooing a fly. “Babe, this is Adrian, the new nanny.”
“Nope.”
“Yup.”
“Meyah, you did not hire a fucking man to nanny our daughter,” Shake continued, stepping through the entranceway, his eyes locked on his woman.
“It’s called a manny. And yes, I did,” Meyah answered, her eyelashes batting as she refused to back away from her man’s advancing steps. “Because he is the best person for the job.”
Meyah had balls. A pair of steel balls. Given that Shake was the VP of the club here, her uncle was a long-time member of the club in Alabama, and her father was the president of the Exiled Eight MC—and a mean motherfucker to boot—so I guess it made sense.
Who the hell was going to tell her no?
“It’s nice to meet you,” Adrian interrupted, cradling Gage in one arm as he held out his hand to the angry-looking biker standing in the middle of the room. “You must be Shake.”
It took Shake a few long seconds, his eyes continuing to glare at his grinning old lady before he turned his attention to the male in the room, ignoring the extended hand. “You married?”
“No.”
“You got any intentions of climbing into bed with my old lady and trying to run off with her and my child?” Adrian was fighting a smile, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m not joking,” Shake growled when he didn’t get a response.
Adrian quickly swallowed back the amused look and nodded. “Oh, I know, that’s why it’s so hot.”
Shake froze, and I choked on a laugh, pressing my hand to my mouth.
The vice president turned his attention back to his old lady. “You could have just fucking said that in the first place,” he hissed under his breath.
Meyah let out a soft giggle. “Said what? That he’s more likely to try and run off with you than with me?” she teased, jumping when Shake let out a soft growl and rushed forward, gently wrapping his arms around her and their little girl carefully, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks.
“Well, that’s one down. Just Shotgun to go,” I announced, moving toward Adrian with my arms out.
“Actually,” Shake cut in before I could take Gage. I looked over my shoulder at him, my brow raised. “Maybe leave Gage with the manny for a little bit, give him some practice, and go check on your man.”
“He’s not—”
“Fucking humor me,” Shake cut in, nodding toward the front door.
He didn’t say anything else, but I heard it in the silence, anyway.
He needs you.
“Fuck,” I cursed, my feet itching as I bounced on my toes, eager to go and find him.
Too deep.
You’re in too deep.
I was. It was like I could feel his pain in my own chest, and I would do anything to take that away. Shotgun had rules. He had beliefs and expectations. There were boundaries I liked to push the limits on a fairly regular basis, and Shotgun liked to remind me of that in the best fucking way.
I quickly turned my attention to Adrian, who was already waving me off. “Hey, you’re good. You go. I have time to get to know this little dude,” he explained with a warm smile before it transformed into a smirk. “And at the same time, the big dude over there can give me the third degree.”
S
hake wasn’t as impressed, but he let it pass as I eased back into the hallway and made a beeline for the front door.
The gravel outside the clubhouse crunched underneath my feet as I jogged across the entrance and into the clubhouse, heading straight up the stairs. I didn’t even bother to knock, pressing Shotgun’s door open and instantly hearing the shower running in the bathroom.
I pushed the door closed behind me and flicked the lock before letting the sound of water trickling draw me in. My hand on the handle, I peeked in, and for a second, my tongue was tied.
Watching this amazing man stand underneath the water, the liquid trickling down his tanned skin was like my eye caught sight of one single drip, and I couldn’t help but move in closer as I followed it down the curves of his body.
Licking my lips, I stepped inside the bathroom, slowly pushing the door closed. “Hey,” I announced, moving in closer and unbuttoning my jeans. The movement caught his eye, and he paused, fingers halting as they were threaded through his hair, dragging it back from his face while he watched me slowly unzip my pants. “How’d it g—”
“Don’t.” My hand paused, my heart with it. “Get undressed.”
The order was clear.
He turned away again, leaning into the water and letting his head hang, the spray hitting the back of his neck and dripping down his back. I made quick work of my clothes, knowing exactly what he needed right now, and both my heart and body were eager to give him exactly that.
He needed control.
His world was spinning.
His axis tilted.
And he needed to bring that shit back into line again. Maybe not perfectly, maybe not even anywhere near close to where he needed it to be, but I knew I could give him some semblance of it to help him find his feet and head again.
All I had to do was give in.
Give him control.
Completely naked, I pulled the door open, waiting for a few seconds before he reached back for me. His fingers circled my wrist, gently tugging me inside. The water hit me, and I gasped, suddenly realizing it was ice cold. “Shit,” I stuttered, the spray covering me from head to toe as he pushed me through the heavy stream until my back hit the wall.
