THE BABY VOW

by Sophia Gray

  “Be the first time you have.”

  “That’s enough,” Kenny said when Ethan’s fists clenched again. “This isn’t doing anybody any good. Let it go, William”

  William rounded on the vice president, but Kenny didn’t back down. He didn’t even look confrontational.

  “Ethan?” Jimmy asked and his voice also calm, cutting through the tension in the room and letting it dissipate into the air. “You were saying something before?”

  “What?” Ethan demanded, pushing his hands through his hair and trying to breathe properly. For some reason, all he could think of at the moment was that he finally knew her full name. What the hell was wrong with him?

  “Your charity thing?” Jimmy went on smoothly. “Looks like we’re really going to need it now. Clue us in, tell us the big plan.”

  Ethan glanced around. William had pulled out a new pack of cigarettes and he still looked furious, but everyone else was listening. He shoved Amelia Stratton’s memory out of his mind with an effort and said, “I was thinking a drive to raise money for a good cause.”

  “And how the hell is that gonna help us?” William demanded.

  “It’ll make us look good,” Ethan snapped back at him. “Change our reputation, prove to people that we aren’t lawbreaking assholes. I guess you can just stay home.”

  Ryan laughed, easing the tension in the room even more. “Yeah, that’d probably be for the best, man. We don’t want your face to scare anyone off.”

  William flipped the road captain off and Jimmy reached over and pulled a legal pad off of the cluttered desk. “Okay, tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, pen poised over a clean sheet of paper.

  “We need a charity that actually donates everything to the people who need it,” Ethan said. “None of this 5% bullshit.”

  Jimmy nodded and made a note. “I’ll do some fact checking tonight. What kind of charities are we thinking?”

  “Women’s shelters,” Taylor suggested.

  “Or we could do something with a soup kitchen,” Ryan added.

  “I was thinking something for veterans,” Ethan said. “Start with those three and see what we can do. It’s short notice, so it might limit things.”

  “I can do that. Might be good to have some stuff for kids to do,” the secretary added. “I could bring the rugrats if we pick one of my weekends.” As it always did, his businesslike expression softened just slightly when he talked about his daughters.

  “Good idea,” Taylor said. “Part of that ‘we’re not monsters’ thing.”

  “Maybe some of those things kids can jump in,” William said gruffly, lighting another cigarette. “Kids fuckin’ love those.”

  Ethan nodded at William, feeling a little more civil to the Sergeant at Arms now. “That’s a good idea.”

  Jimmy continued to scribble ideas hurriedly as the rest of the officers tossed them out. “Okay,” he said when the spate of ideas ran dry and he had two and a half pages of notes. “The gist is that we want food trucks, somebody who can do balloon animals or face painting, bounce houses, and games. Anybody got anything else?”

  “A membership booth,” Ethan said.

  “Good idea,” Ryan agreed. “Get ‘em interested and then get ‘em signed up on the spot.”

  “No,” Ethan corrected and the rest of the group looked at him in surprise. “Get them interested, yeah. But the thing is, we want ‘em to come to us after the drive is over. This can’t look like we’re trying to add members. It needs to look like what it is. A nice, non-criminal thing to do to help people who need it.”

  “Yeah, needy people like us,” Taylor said with a grin. “I like the sound of all of it.” He stood up. “I gotta hit the road. Told Penelope I’d be home for supper.” He smacked Jimmy on the back. “Just let me know when you get some decent numbers and I’ll figure out the money.”

  Ethan watched his treasurer walk away. William followed him out without speaking and Ethan knew that, even though he’d contributed some ideas and was willing to play along with the charity thing, the other man was still angry with him. He also knew there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He wasn’t feeling cheery with William either, but he figured it would smooth itself out. It always did when they butted heads.

  After he’d wrapped up a few loose ends, Ethan gave Jimmy, Ryan, and Kenny a distracted goodbye and left them drinking and planning. All he really wanted was food and the coldest shower he could stand. And Amelia.

  Had she done it on purpose? To make her father even angrier with bikers? If so, it was completely unnecessary, but apparently damn effective. Or had she done it to get back at her father? That seemed more likely, given how determined she’d been. And given how her father barged into The Angel’s Keepers demanding the details of his daughter’s sex life. Ethan might not have checked her I.D., but he knew damn good and well that she’d been above the age of consent, which was a big part of why he’d refused to answer. It was, plain and simple, none of Gregory Stratton’s business who or what his daughter did in bed.

  Ethan sighed in frustration. All he had were more questions and no possible way of finding answers. Not with such a tight timeline to try and save his motorcycle club. Or, if he couldn’t save it, at least repair the damage he’d done by taking Amelia Stratton to bed with him.

  Chapter 8

  Amelia

  Amelia looked up from the television show that she wasn’t paying any attention to when she heard the front door slam closed. Her heart began to pound with fear. She was supposed to be the only one home. She wondered if she could get to her phone quickly enough if it turned out to be a homicidal maniac.

  When her father appeared in the living room, she was relieved, but only for a moment. His face was red with anger and his usually immaculate hair was disarranged. His suit was wrinkled and his hands were clenched.

  “Dad, what’s--”

  “Where were you last night?” he demanded, cutting her off.

  Amelia felt the blood drain from her head. How could he have known? It just wasn’t possible! “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice wavering. “I was right here.”

  “Don’t lie to me!”

  Her father walked into the room and threw a picture down. Amelia saw herself in the parking lot of The Hole, her arms around Ethan. He was holding her tightly, one hand clasping the back of her neck and the other at the small of her back. Seeing it again made her whole body respond to the memory of the heat of his mouth and the firm muscles of his chest.

  We look like we fit. Amelia shook the thought from her head. It wasn’t exactly the most important part. Suddenly she realized exactly what it meant for her father to have this picture. “Did you have me followed?”

  “You promised me you were going to shape up,” Gregory said, his voice ragged with anger. “You said you--”

  “Did you have me followed?” she asked again, her voice rising frantically, trying to hide the fact that she was shaking. This was the first time she’d been honestly afraid since the issues between her and her father had begun.

  “Yes!” He spat out “I did. To keep you safe!”

  “Taking dirty pictures of me is keeping me safe?” Her stomach turned. Had she ever felt so completely violated before? “How could you do this?”

  “How could you?” Gregory demanded, looking back at the picture with derision. “Do you know who he is? What he is?”

  “I...” No. The look her father fixed on her made her feel very dirty all of a sudden. She resented the feeling. What she’d done with Ethan wasn’t wrong. Her body was hers, damn it, and she could do what she wanted with it. At least for one night. She forced a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s the leader of a biker gang,” Gregory said. “It’s called The Angel’s Keepers. Don’t you know what biker gangs do, Amelia?”

  She shook her head. She hadn’t thought to ask him what he did. She hadn’t cared as long as one of the things was her.

  “They run drugs! T
hey hurt people! They’re responsible for over half of the sex trafficking in Nevada!”

  Amelia stared at her father. None of that even made sense. “That’s a lot of stuff for one group,” she said, trying to sound sarcastic. “The Angel’s Keepers must be a busy place.”

  “Don’t be deliberately stupid!” he ordered, pointing his index finger in her face. “They’re all in it together. What do you think those rides are for? Why do you think they have meetings and headquarters?”

  “Where did you even hear this?” she asked, shaken by his anger, but not cowed by what seemed to be insanely biased statistics.

  “I heard it from people who give a damn about my campaign,” Gregory snarled. “The only serious financial backers I have!”

  “What about Lauren Dorfman’s father? What about the Governor? What about-”

  “Don’t contradict me, Amelia May!”

  Amelia caught her breath, feeling lightheaded. “Stop shouting at me.”

  “Stop whoring yourself out to gang members! I know you spent the night with him!”

  Her mouth dropped open. Even Gregory seemed surprised at what he’d said.

  “I am not a whore,” Amelia said, her voice shaking. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

  “I...” But his temper overtook his remorse. “I told you I’d cut you off and I--”

  “You can’t,” Amelia said coolly. “Not unless you want me to give Ethan a call. Ride off into the sunset with my gangster and spend the rest of my days spilling your dirty little political secrets.”

  It was her father’s turn to be shocked. She hadn't even known whether or not her father had dirty secrets, but his sudden silence wasn’t encouraging. Amelia went on before she lost her nerve.

  “I’m willing to play by your rules,” she said. “Date the men you want me to date. Be the respectable little daughter in public. But you will respect what I’m giving up for your campaign, or I’m done.”

  “Fine,” Gregory said, breathing hard, clearly trying to calm down. “As long as you behave properly, we won’t have a problem.”

  “And I don’t want anyone following me anymore. That’s too far and you know it.”

  “Maybe you should just stay home unless you have a proper chaperone,” he said and she resisted the urge to throw something.

  “Perhaps you could make me a list,” Amelia said between clenched teeth. Wasn’t she already giving up enough? Now she had to have a chaperone? “I’m going to assume Ethan is off limits.”

  “He already knows,” Gregory said, sweeping the picture off of the coffee table and ripping it in two. He finally looked in control again. “I stopped by and told him what I’d do if I saw the two of you together again. If he wants to hang onto his little club until the end of the year, he’ll listen.”

  Her father tossed the shreds of the picture into the small wastepaper basket by the door and walked out of the room without a backward glance. Amelia dropped down onto the couch, her heart sinking down to the pit of her stomach. Her father had talked to Ethan? She could only imagine how that conversation had gone. Ethan didn’t look like a man who would willingly take orders. Maybe he’d show up just to prove a point.

  Her traitorous heart pounded at the thought. No. He probably wished he’d never gotten involved with her. And she couldn’t blame him. In retrospect, it had been insane to drag him into this.

  Amelia covered her face with both hands as hot tears burned in her eyes. Her father claimed to pay her way, she was suddenly fully aware that she was selling herself, piece by bloody piece.

  Chapter 9

  Ethan

  Ethan stared down at the stack of papers on the desk and wished he didn’t have to look through it all again. The sun was setting and heat was pouring into the window above him, making it impossible to actually cool the room down to a comfortable temperature. His eyes felt like they were full of sand. He’d been up since five in the morning, putting in overtime at the repair shop. The heat wasn’t helping his exhaustion, but it was more than that. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since...well, since he’d woken up and found Amelia gone. He pushed the thought away, sitting up straighter in his chair, determined to be businesslike. There were more important things in the world than Amelia Stratton. Even if it didn’t feel like it.

  This paperwork had to be right. He couldn’t afford any mistakes, not with Stratton breathing down his neck. The State Representative had been oddly silent in the news since he’d stomped into the headquarters shouting at Ethan for taking Amelia home with him. Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to brace for impact. Something was in the air and it wasn’t just the shimmer of late summer.

  He rested his head on his hand. Memories of Amelia kept bubbling up. The way she’d looked in that dress, sexy and determined. The way she’d looked in his bed, abandoned and yet somehow shy at the same time. The way she’d looked afterward, happy that he wanted more than just the sex. And he had. That was what really made this hell. He’d wanted more than just her body.

  Apparently, all she’d wanted out of it was a way to make her father angry. Ethan didn’t appreciate being in the middle of that relationship. That was why he was working himself stupid, both at the shop and at the headquarters. He hadn’t touched the Flathead in three weeks, even though some of the parts he’d been missing had come in. Jimmy, who was the undisputed king of organization and motivation, had been unable to keep up with Ethan’s demands for the upcoming event.

  The minute the ink was dry on the permits, Ethan had been promoting the charity drive. The officers had motivated the patch members and the patch members had talks with the few pledges that were left. Soon the town was covered in flyers. Ethan had been pleased to hear a few people talking about it while they were out and about.

  They’d ended up with the cause he’d suggested and he knew he’d picked a good one. Not just for PR either. It made him feel good to be able to say that all the profits were going to go to wounded and homeless veterans. It also helped a bit financially and he wasn’t going to ignore that. When he talked to the rental companies they were going to be dealing with, most of them agreed to a reduced rate, which helped him a lot since they were stretching the budget as thin as possible. Maybe even thinner. This would take almost every dime they had, even with reduced rates.

  Thankfully, the rest of the club agreed that this was pretty much a last-ditch effort to stand in the face of Stratton’s rules. Ethan didn’t like the all or nothing feeling. It made him nervous to think of what might happen if their gamble didn’t pay off. What if Stratton’s propaganda had spread too far already?

  Ethan’s dad, Marcus Billings, had founded The Angel’s Keepers in the early ’90s and it had gone strong until Marcus got sick. Somehow, despite Ethan’s best efforts, it hadn’t been the same since Marcus died.

  He leaned back in his chair once he’d been over every word of the papers. Every ‘I’ was dotted and every ‘T’ crossed. There was nothing Stratton could legally do to block them. Ethan’s cell phone rang, disturbing the quiet of the small office and taking him by surprise, shaking him out of his reverie. He answered the call without checking the screen. He was still organizing a lot of things for tomorrow's event and Kenny had promised to call later.

  “Yeah?” he asked, bundling the permits and documents in the order he was going to need them tomorrow morning. No missteps allowed; he was going to get this right.

  “Is this Ethan Billings?”

  The woman’s voice on the other end of the line caught him by surprise. Was it-

  “This is Marta Waters, from News 6.”

  “Oh.” He cleared his throat as his heart rate slowed down. He should have realized right away that the woman on the other end of the line wasn’t Amelia. Amelia’s voice was a little softer, but a little sultrier, as well. “Right, how are you?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. I’d like to apologize, as well, and let you know I just got your message.”

  It had been Kenny’s
idea to get some news coverage, and Ryan had managed to secure a newspaper reporter. None of them had had any luck with television news sources, though. Ethan hadn’t really expected anything different. It was probably small potatoes.

  “I would be very interested in covering this event,” she went on.

  “Really?” he asked, nearly dropping his pen.

  “Absolutely!” she assured him. “Of course, I would expect comments on Gregory Stratton’s new, restrictive proposals.”

  “Oh, I’ve got plenty of those,” Ethan said grimly. “Since we’re talking expectations, I’ll be honest. I’d expect you to talk us up. We’re doing a good thing for a good reason here, and I want everyone watching News 6 to know it.”

  “Of course,” Marta said. “You know...my uncle was in a motorcycle club. He was also a cop. He’s not thrilled with the way Representative Stratton is making you all look.”