by Addison Jane
My life wasn’t exactly sunshine and fucking rainbows. The club had its fair share of problems and enemies. Bastards who often had no code when it came to who they would hurt to get to me—the club president—the man who has to give out the fucking orders.
“You rang?” he questioned, pulling to a stop just a few feet from me and mirroring my stance. We were around the same height, the same build, but where this kid was blond, blue-eyed, and running around in wifebeaters, shorts, and Nikes, my dark leather, jeans, and glare were quite the contrast. It was like an angel standing in front of the devil, and with the amount of blood on my hands, honestly, it wasn’t far from the truth. But this was why I needed to know exactly who was walking into my clubhouse, and he needed to know exactly what the fuck he was stepping into.
“I was passing by,” I started, pulling my glasses up onto my head. “Thought I better introduce myself.”
“Just passing by,” he repeated, raising his eyebrow.
“Yeah.”
He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “This some strange biker intimidation tactic? Do I need to get familiar with these types of things?” The amused smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth didn’t help the fucking mood I was in.
I took another step forward, closing the distance between us but packing the tension in the air just that little bit fucking tighter. “The girls seem to think you’re gonna be responsible for my son,” I announced.
“Your son has a name,” he hit back, the unexpected backchat throwing me for a moment. “Why don’t you try using it sometime—”
My hand moved so fucking fast, I don’t think either of us was prepared for the force as it connected with the soft spot between his lower ribs. He stumbled back, keeling over, wheezing like a pack-a-day smoker as he tried to catch a breath.
I bent over, bracing my hands on my knees so my eye line was level with his. “One… you don’t get to tell me how the fuck I refer to my kid. Two… you’re gonna respect the fuck out of me. You know why? Because I goddamn earned it.”
The guy coughed again, gritting his teeth as he uncurled his body and pushed his shoulder’s back. “Respect goes both ways.”
“Not in my fucking clubhouse. You show me you deserve it first,” I informed him sternly. “Meyah and Avery have put their trust in you, and I’m putting my trust in them that they made the right choice. Because if you try to hurt my child, the woman I care about, or my fucking family… you better hope those fancy fucking running shoes on your feet can help you outrun a bullet from my gun. Any questions?”
The smile on his face I didn’t expect.
Maybe the girls were right.
Maybe this kid was tougher and more resilient than I expected.
“You got vegetarian options at the clubhouse?”
I snorted. “Ask the girls. They do the cooking.”
“You care if I bring someone home after a date to stay the night?”
“If you aren’t working, what the fuck you do is up to you,” I answered, finally turning around and tramping back toward my bike. “You need to let someone know, though. ’Cause if I wake up and find some strange fucking dude standing in his jocks in my kitchen… I will shoot first, ask questions later.” I pulled my glasses down over my eyes before I reached for the handlebars of my ride and threw my leg over the beast.
The guy was moving toward me, despite his friends having run over and crowded around him, asking if he was okay and if they needed to call the police.
“What I said was out of line,” he called, halting my hand as it hovered over the keys. “I got daddy issues. I shouldn’t put those on you. It can’t be easy being thrown into fatherhood like you have. So, I apologize for what I said, and I’d really like to support you having whatever relationship with Gage that you feel comfortable with.”
Gritting my teeth, I nodded my head. “See you this afternoon.”
Quickly, I turned the key and started the hulking machine beneath me, kicking the stand up as I pulled away from the curb, eager to avoid the way his words fucking made me feel.
What kind of relationship was I going to have with Gage?
Holding him still made me feel anxious.
Though, I was starting to feel comfortable when Avery laid him across me when he was upset and demanded I talk. It was the quickest way to soothe him. I figured it was something about the deep vibrations of my voice, but Avery was adamant it wasn’t just about that.
It was my voice he found comforting, and it felt good to be that for him—a sense of comfort and safety.
Fear stopped me from doing anything else.
Pure unexplainable fear.
The guilt and self-loathing that had begun to eat at me from the inside out quickly switched to something else as I pulled into the compound gates and instantly took note of the Harley parked right next to the building. My boys fucking knew better. Their rides parked off to the right of the compound in perfect formation beside the fence. I knew every single one of my brother’s rides. They were all different, all unique, and easy for me to identify. This motorcycle, though, was not one of them.
It was generic.
Nothing special about it.
One, you could buy straight off the lot because you thought it was cool.
I rolled up beside the machine and turned my engine off, throwing my leg over, ready to storm inside and give some asshole absolute hell for being a fucking idiot. Except, I didn’t even make it inside.
“You think you can just have a kid and not invite Uncle Slate to meet him?”
I paused, blinking to fight back the glare of the sunlight, so I could see through the shadows. It took a few seconds, but there was my fucking best friend standing just inside, holding a tiny baby in his arms.
My boy.
The heaviness of everything that had been weighing me down suddenly shifted like it was being lifted from my shoulders. But that was Slate. He’d had my fucking back for years, shouldering my burdens, my problems, and my hell as much as he possibly could.
Allowing me to take those moments where I could breathe.
It was a comfort I’d found recently in Avery, but for different reasons. When it came to club problems, she couldn’t be there to help. She had to stay in the background. It was simply the way we ran things. It was how we protected our women. The less they knew, the better.
“You bastard.” I laughed, my feet carrying me forward. I stepped inside, the both of us instantly looking down at Gage, his bright blue eyes catching mine and his feet instantly beginning to kick. I couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make my heart stutter when he recognized me. My boy, getting fucking excited just to see me there.
“Man, little dude has some strength,” Slate commented in awe as he struggled to hold tight to the tiny wiggling worm.
“You look as uncomfortable as hell,” I joked, taking a step back and scanning the room for Avery, finding her behind the bar. “Ave, come grab him?”
She looked up with a smile and instantly rounded the bar, reaching out to Slate.
My brother frowned, his head tilted a little toward me, his brow pulled together as he handed my son to what he assumed was just a club girl.
“I have to start my shift at Empire at seven. Adrian said he’d be all moved in and ready by then to watch him for the night,” she explained, smiling down at him. Instinctually, I moved closer to Avery, gently grasping the back of her neck with my hand and pulling her in. I pressed my lips to her head before brushing my fingers lightly over Gage’s fluffy white hair.
Things were changing daily.
Routines being made.
Things falling into place.
My confidence was growing each day as I was reminded just how many fucking people were going to love Gage. To be there when he needed someone, to nurture him, to show him how to be a man, how to treat a lady, and how to face the parts of himself that are a part of who he is. I was still fucking scared.
This weird fear twisting my stomach every ti
me I thought about how I could hurt him, how I could do something wrong, how he could hate me for who I am. Or for the hand he was dealt. But I was dealt that hand too. And I would go to hell before I let him give in to those demons. My brothers would go to hell before they would let him give in to those demons as well.
And Avery—well, there was nothing sexier than seeing the way she cared for my blood. For a baby who she had no connection with but was willing to protect with her life.
“We’ll probably be in a little later,” I told Avery, kissing her again before she finally stepped back with a warm smile.
“It was nice to finally meet you,” she said with a nod to Slate before heading for the stairs.
My buddy waited until she had disappeared completely before cracking a smile. “You got a baby and an old lady and didn’t tell me?”
“It’s complicated.” I shoved him in the shoulder before heading for the bar.
The bar where Avery had left two glasses and a piece of paper.
Cola pointed at one.
And rum and cola pointed at the other.
I knew I was grinning.
I just wasn’t aware of how hard until Slate choked out a burst of laughter and grabbed the rum and cola, shoving my shoulder this time before throwing back the entire glass in one go. “Complicated?” He snorted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Looks pretty straightforward to me.”
“Okay, so it’s a long story.”
“I got all fucking night. Let’s hear it.”
AVERY
“He’s very cute.”
My intense focus on the supermarket’s shelves and shelves of baby formula and diapers was interrupted for a second as I looked up to see a man standing over Gage’s stroller. He was kind of young, maybe early forties, dressed in a fancy suit, blond hair parted and slicked back with not one single strand out of place.
The kind of guy a lot of normal women would like to have complimenting your baby.
Except he wasn’t my baby, and I wasn’t a normal woman.
Since losing Micah, I learned a serious lesson about who to trust. The man who murdered her was wealthy, he was charismatic, and he dressed fancy to perfectly disguise the monster he harbored inside his suit of armor.
Maybe that was why I was so drawn to Shotgun and the club because I knew what I was getting with them—rough exterior, worn leather, tattoos, and dirty mouths. I knew exactly who they were and the things they were willing to do for the club.
They didn’t try to hide it.
They didn’t try to be something else to draw people in or to trick them.
My heart skipped, and I stumbled a little trying to quickly gain my balance. Grabbing hold of the stroller handle, I pulled it a little closer to me, trying to play off the movement with a smile. “Thank you, he is.”
“You think he looks like his dad?” the man continued, not looking bothered by my nervous attempt to put some kind of distance between us. Though, maybe, he just didn’t give a shit.
Maybe he liked it—the fear.
“Sorry, what?” I questioned, wondering whether my brain was a little overwhelmed with memories to be thinking clearly. “Does he look like his dad?” I repeated what I thought I heard, taking a quick peek at the sleeping child. Gage didn’t move, his eyes shut, his pacifier just at the edge of his mouth like it was going to fall, but he kept sucking it back in just before it could.
A couple of older ladies passed by, pressing their hands to their hearts and sighing at the sight of him.
It warmed me to see him so adored.
Knowing he was going to be so loved.
“Yeah, I’ve never met Shotgun myself, but my wife seemed to think he was quite handsome.” It was like having a bucket of ice water tossed over my head—the shock hitting me first. “Well, at least I assume she must have since she fucked him and got pregnant while we were married.”
Run.
Get out.
It’s him.
I reached for the stroller, tugging it to me, at the same time keeping my eyes focused on a highly amused Mr. Suit. Hands shaking, I quickly unclipped Gage and lifted him out, pressing him to my chest and wrapping my arms firmly around him.
If I had to leave the stroller and run, I would.
I would not think twice about it.
“You look scared,” he mused, my sudden fear delighting him. “And why is that?”
“I know who you are,” I growled through clenched teeth, holding Gage a little tighter. “I know what you did to her.”
He didn’t simply murder her—not that murder was simple. But the way Shotgun described the scene it was heart-wrenching. This man made Emma feel as much pain as possible before he finally let her die.
He ran his tongue across his teeth. “She did me wrong,” he answered with a sneer, his eyes focused on the small baby in my arms, and it wasn’t a look of fondness for the baby his wife birthed. Instead, his lip was curled in disgust and hatred for this small human being that represented Emma’s betrayal.
One foot after another, I took small steps backward, hoping to put some distance between us but also possibly reach a crowd of people, then maybe use them to disappear.
The suited man followed, the wrath in his eyes switching off like a light and a smug grin appearing on his face. “What’s your name?” he inquired, meeting each step I took with one of his own. Though his were larger, more intimidating, and becoming problematic.
“Fuck you.”
“Pretty name.”
“It was my grandmother’s.”
His laughter was unexpected, the tone and trill of it reminding me of one of those really bad horror movies from the ’80s. It was a villain’s laugh, the one they do just before their epic monologue where they admit to all the crimes they’d committed, and the hero comes to the rescue.
This could be the exception, though, because I was fairly sure there was no hero coming.
If I wanted to get Gage and me out of here, I was going to have to do it on my own.
Kid was waiting in the car in the parking lot—I needed to get to him.
He had weapons.
I hoped.
“I like you. You have balls,” Mr. Suit taunted, his head falling to the side. “Emma was like that, too.” I let out a soft gasp, my heart stuttering for a second while the smile on his face seemed to grow wider. “And look where that got her.” He found my panic amusing. Of course, he did. He was one of those men who thrived on fear. A man who thought they were so fucking above everyone else. So untouchable that they can do anything they wanted. Invincible. Unstoppable.
So much so that they could hurt people who didn’t deserve to be put through that pain. Just like the man who stole my sister.
“Micah, it’s my birthday,” I groaned, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my chin on the top.
She giggled softly, continuing to swipe on a perfect red lip in the mirror and pay no attention to my consistent pouting. She was immune to it. “It’s early, Ave. I’ll be done by six, home just after, with enough time to make the place look pretty before people start arriving at eight.”
She was right.
There was time.
I was being a brat, and we’d already been over this three times this morning.
“You know he gives me the creeps, right?” I teased my big sister, remembering the way her boss looked at her when I picked her up from work last week. His eyes narrowed, his hands adjusting his suit constantly like some nervous tick. He watched her walk out of the lobby, but it wasn’t only a look of admiration or even attraction, it was an obsession, and it had given me the chills.
Micah waved her hand around, rolling her eyes at the suggestion. “It’s a business thing. There will be other people there. This is not a date.”
“I wonder if he knows that,” I murmured under my breath, deciding not to start an argument with my best friend on my birthday.
Even though I wish I would have.
Because as it turned
out, he didn’t know that.
And he wasn’t the kind of man who took no for a damn answer.
Just like the man standing in front of me.
“You have no idea who you’re fucking with.” It was a thinly veiled threat, one I hoped he heard loud and clear. Because if I had to hand this baby to someone and kill this bastard with a gallon of milk or a box of cereal, trust me, I’d find a fucking way.
I finally reached the end of the aisle, my brain working overtime, mentally trying to come up with some kind of escape plan. I knew this building. I’d been here once a week for the past year.
“Avery, what did I tell you about leaving the stroller lying around.” The familiar voice was like a soft, warm blanket settling around my shoulders, easing the chill of fear that had begun to settle into my bones. “You can’t just keep taking him out for cuddles all the time.” Holly rushed up behind Mr. Suit, swerving and jerking the stroller around, looking like a blind person could have done a better job of moving it. But it made perfect sense a few seconds later when she rammed it straight into Mr. Suit’s ankles.
“Fuck!” he roared loudly, swinging his arm around behind him and flashing me the perfect look at the large gun tucked into the front of his fucking pants.
Holly weaved, avoiding the flailing limb by what looked like an inch or two before ditching the stroller and running straight at me. “Go!” she bellowed, grabbing hold of some innocent guy’s shopping cart as he tried to pass by and ramming that into Mr. Suit’s stomach while he was still nursing his first injury.
His rage-filled scream was like a shot of ice shooting through my veins, my heart stuttering, desperately fighting that instant fear. Though Gage wasn’t having it, his unhappy cry kickstarting my heart and shot that first push of adrenaline through my veins that I desperately needed.
Holly’s hand pressed against my back, and she danced on her tiptoes. “Today, Ave!”
My shoes skidded on the linoleum floors, finding it almost impossible to find balance and any kind of fucking traction while also cradling the small child against my chest. But when I finally found it, I fucking dared someone to stop me.
