by Brook Wilder
“Hey, Keith?”
I turned around. “Yeah?”
“Have you noticed anyone hanging around the clubhouse lately? Like a reporter?”
Well, shit. Had Jill wormed her way into the police station too? The woman had balls if she had. Clearing my throat, I shook my head. “No, why?”
Alisha shrugged. “Just asking.”
I turned and walked out then; my jaw clamped tightly as I headed to my car. It seemed that our little spy was more determined than I had imagined.
I needed to tell Chains and Widow Maker.
Ten minutes later, I was in the council room with Sabrina. “Well,” Widow Maker said, her long fingers tapping in a rhythm on the table before her. “Good work, you two. We will have to wait and see what Alisha’s response is before we make any rash decisions.”
“No matter what her decision is, we are ready to roll, ma’am.” Sabrina assured her.
I stared at the Hell’s Bitches’ president, noting how tired she looked. The recent events had been a strain on everyone in both clubs, but she seemed to be taking it extra hard and I felt sorry for her. It had to be a hell of a job running a biker club, especially one that seemed to be falling apart at the seams.
“Good,” Widow Maker sighed. “I’m just ready for this shit to be over with. We’ve dragged this out long enough.”
Sabrina nudged me with her elbow, and I cleared my throat. “There’s something else.”
She arched her brow at me. “What is it, Wires?”
“There’s a woman that’s been spying on the clubhouse,” I started. “I think she’s a journalist of some sort.”
Widow Maker sat up in her chair. “Have you talked to her?”
Another nudge from Sabrina. Damn, her elbow was bony as hell. “Yeah,” I answered. “I have. She didn’t say what she was doing there, but I ran her plates.”
“She’s a disgraced journalist,” Sabrina added quickly, as if I wasn’t telling the story fast enough. “There’s some pretty heavy baggage from what I found. I think she’s looking for a big story to make a name for herself.”
“They usually are,” Widow Maker mused, rubbing her chin. “Do you think we could trust her?”
That wasn’t what I expected the president to say. I half thought she would want me to deal with Jill, make her disappear so that the threat to the club could be eliminated.
That clearly had only been my thought. “What are you thinking?” Sabrina was asking, her interest piqued.
“I’m thinking,” Widow Maker answered, a smile playing on her lips. “That we could feed her bits of information to keep her interested and maybe have her be the outlet to send this info out.” She then looked directly at me. “You looked her up. Does she have talent?”
“Yeah,” I replied, thinking of the articles I had read. While they were full of weird conspiracy theories, there was an underlying talent there, one that should be doing so much more than writing what she was writing.
Of course, it didn’t help that she had fucked her professor and tried to screw him over in the end. But honestly, it’s the twenty-first century. Who hasn’t?
“Feed her information,” Widow Maker said a moment later. “Nothing too much, but enough to keep stringing her along. I don’t want her exposing us too soon without Alisha having a chance to get the information to her people.”
“You think she’s gonna help?” Sabrina asked.
Widow Maker smiled. “Yeah, she will.”
It was obvious that the president knew something we didn’t.
Widow Maker looked over at me. “Can you handle this, Wires? You know what I need done, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I said automatically, though I didn’t feel like I was ready for this sort of task. Give me a computer, I could rock that shit out.
But a woman? I didn’t have much experience with women to begin with, especially with a woman who was out to get my brothers.
But Widow Maker was counting on me, and I wasn’t about to let her or the clubs down. I could do this. What Jill didn’t know was that I wasn’t swayed by a pretty face or pretty words.
I could resist pretty damn well.
“Good,” Widow Maker said, before wincing.
Sabrina glanced at me and I shrugged. Maybe Widow Maker was coming down with something. “Are you all right?”
She waved a hand at us as she slid off the chair. “I’m fine.”
We both stood there, uncomfortable, as Widow Maker tried to straighten before doubling over with a moan.
“Shit,” Sabrina breathed, hurrying over to her, her hand on her back. “Are you okay? What can I do?”
“Go get my husband.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I rushed out of the room and down the hall, where I knew the Jesters’ council was meeting. I barged in without knocking, watching the sea of faces look up at me with some surprise and anger. “What the hell, Wires?” Chains growled, pushing out of his chair.
“It’s Widow Maker,” I panted, watching the blood drain from his face. I barely got out of the way before he took off running down the hall, with me at his heels. What the hell was going on?
Sabrina was standing outside the council room, shutting the door behind Chains as he entered. I slowed and joined her along the wall, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “What the hell is going on?”
She let out a long breath, her face contorted with worry. “She’s pregnant.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Say that again? Pregnant?”
“Did I fucking stutter?” she repeated, giving me the eye. “Yeah, pregnant. You know, like carrying a baby.”
“I know what pregnant means,” I grumbled. “I’m just surprised that she is pregnant.”
Sabrina pushed away from the wall. “Widow Maker is no different than most women. Just because she’s a badass doesn’t mean she doesn’t want a family with her husband.”
I followed behind her. “But she’s the president of her own club. What is she gonna do? Strap the kid to her chest as she goes in, guns blazing?”
Sabrina stopped abruptly, turning around to poke her finger in my chest. “The club isn’t everything, Keith. I hope you realize that. We all have a future, a dream that doesn’t include being shot at or being on the run from the government. One day, this won’t be here.”
I watched as she stalked off, wondering what the hell had just happened. Not have the club? But I had just gotten here. That wouldn’t be fair, to have it pulled out from under me when I had finally found where I belonged.
Growling, I shoved my hands in my pockets and headed outside for some air. Widow Maker was pregnant. The badass leader of one of the first female biker gangs in Texas was pregnant.
Shit, everything was about to change, and I wasn’t so sure it was for the good, either.
I glared at the line of bikes parked in front of the clubhouse, my mind conflicted. Widow Maker being pregnant was one thing, but me being in charge of Jill was another altogether.
I didn’t know what the fuck to do with her.
Chapter 9
Rex
I watched as Kris took in a few deep breaths, feeling hopeless and very unsure of myself. Ever since she had told me she was pregnant I had been on pins and needles, waiting for shit to go south.
In fact, I constantly waited for shit to go south. We’d had some rough patches of late, times when I thought she would leave me, and I would be fucking alone because I was such a fucking idiot.
The last three months had been good to us though. After the run in in Mexico, Kris and I had gotten closer, found that burn for each other again.
And then she found out she was pregnant. I’m not gonna lie. I probably didn’t react the best way. We weren’t in normal jobs, those nine-to-five parents that had a cookie-cutter house and a future that was solid.
No, we were both presidents of our own clubs—well, whatever was left of them, I guess. Someone was always shooting at us, and right now we were caught between the war with
the cartel and the fucking government. It was still up in the air if we could avoid prison time.
She had been pissed by my reaction, not understanding that her pregnancy had scared the shit out of me. Now not only did I have to worry about her constantly, but also our kid.
That, and I had to try to keep her out of the field as much as I could. The meeting that I had been in was precisely about that. The guys understood. My council members were all either now shacked up with a woman of their own or had their own brats. They understood my frustration, my concern, the all-consuming fear for Kris and our kid.
To top it all off, the doctor we had visited had warned Kris that any additional stress could put the baby in danger. Apparently, she had some sort of preeclampsia that put her at risk of an early delivery.
Yet another thing for us to worry about.
God, she had no idea how much I worried about her every fucking waking minute of every fucking day.
“You can go back to your meeting now.”
Her quiet voice broke through my thoughts and I found her staring at me, a solemn look on her face and her hand on her stomach.
Where our kid was growing. “Nothing is as important as this.”
She lifted her mouth into a grin. “I know when you’re lying, Rex. I can see it on your face.”
Whatever she thought she had seen wasn’t true. I slid out of the chair and knelt before her, covering her hand with mine. “You see what you want to see, Kris.”
She drew in a heavy breath. “I’m fine, I swear it. The doctor told me I might experience a cramp from time to time but as long as there is no blood, I will be fine.”
I didn’t even want to think about her bleeding. Hell, I had been there before and nearly lost her.
I never wanted to experience that feeling again. “We are going home,” I growled, rising.
“Rex, come on,” she protested. “You have shit to do. I’m fine. I’ll stay in my office for the rest of the day if it makes you feel better.”
I helped her to her feet, drawing her against me. “I don’t ever want anything to happen to you,” I murmured against her temple. “Or our kid. Do you know how much I love you?”
She wrapped her arms around my waist, laying her head on my chest. “I know. It’s just as much as I love you, Rex, but I’m not made of fucking glass. You should know that by now.”
“You’re right,” I said, rubbing a hand down her back lightly. “You’re the toughest woman I know, but you are also my wife and carrying my firstborn. That makes a man go crazy, Kris.”
Kris pulled back and touched my face with her hand. “Go back to your meeting, Rex.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, releasing her. “But promise me you are going to stay in your office the rest of the afternoon.”
Standing on her tiptoes, Kris pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I promise. Then you can rub my feet tonight.”
I grinned. “Amongst other things.”
She patted my cheek, but her smile told me everything I needed to know.
It wasn’t until she had left the council room that I collapsed in a chair, my head in my hands. Kris was going to be the death of me. I couldn’t stand to see her hurting, to know that she was as scared as I was. Kris hid it well, but I knew she was worried about this pregnancy.
Me, I was scared shitless.
I wiped a hand over my face, feeling every bit my age. The mere thought of losing her kept me up at night. Kris was everything to me and even though we had struggled over the last few months, she was still the woman that I loved more than life itself.
I couldn’t lose her. I had felt that pain long ago, then nearly went out of my mind when she had gotten shot and nearly died.
I wouldn’t survive it again.
Sighing, I pushed to my feet, not feeling any better about the situation. She would gut me if I told her to stay at home, which meant I had to keep her stress level as low as I could.
Yeah, like that was gonna happen.
Fishing out my cell phone, I fired off a text to Siren, who had recently returned from hiding out in Mexico with her CIA fiancé. Voodoo was on the FBI’s shit list, but they both wanted to get rid of the cartel once and for all, which meant they had to come back home, where the resources were heavy. She and Kris had recently made up and I knew I could count on her to watch out for my wife when I wasn’t around.
The question was, who was gonna watch out for me during the next seven months or so?
Chapter 10
Kris
I stalked into my office and fell into the chair behind my desk, pissed that I had yet again shown weakness before members of the club.
Placing a hand on my stomach, I shook my head. “Little one, you have got to be kind to your mom, all right? I’m trying my best, but you are scaring the shit out of me and out of your daddy, and we can’t have that.”
There was no answer, of course. I wasn’t far enough along to feel the flutters yet, but I found myself wanting to experience each and every minute of this pregnancy. After years of thinking about it, Rex and I were going to have a child.
A child, a little person that we had created out of love. I still couldn’t believe it, though I was starting to think that Rex had finally gotten used to the idea. He hadn’t taken the news well at first, but I knew it was out of fear more than anything.
I had the same reaction, to be honest. We weren’t in any position to have a kid right now. We had the cartel breathing down our necks, the government attempting to throw us in prison for a very long time. Our future was so uncertain right now.
I rubbed my stomach lightly, feeling the barest hint of a bump there. Well, one thing was for sure in our future. We were going to be parents in a few short months.
What we were going to do about the clubs, well, that was still up in the air. He and I hadn’t discussed it, barely finding time to talk about anything these days. I couldn’t very well just pop this kid out and go back to my day job. I wasn’t about to leave our kid without parents because we were both too selfish to give up what we currently had.
My position leading the Hell’s Bitches was going to be up in the air. I didn’t want to necessarily be a stay- at-home mom who baked apple pies and helped with the PTO. I would go crazy if I did that.
But I did want to be there for my child, for our child. I wanted to watch him or her grow up in a house full of love, to watch our son or daughter flourish under our careful tutelage.
And maybe shock a few other parents along the way.
I snorted as I thought about Rex sitting in the stands at a football game in the future or me carrying baked goods to the school for a holiday party. We were likely to make for easy gossip amongst the rest of the parents.
But our child would be loved and that was all that mattered.
“You just have to behave,” I whispered, hoping that our baby was listening to its momma.
Chapter 11
Jill
I moved down in my seat as I watched Keith enter the clubhouse, wondering how he was this morning. After another restless night and fruitless search on the internet, I was nowhere closer to identifying any sort of breakthrough in this story like I thought I would be.
I had found one little mention of Alisha and her new husband, a wedding announcement buried in the pages of the local Castillo newspaper. It had only given me a name, Seth Owens, but another quick search hadn’t turned up anything on his relation to the Rough Jesters or to any of the damage done by the cartel.
What it had shown me was the same smiling couple from the photo, looking sickeningly happy.
Did I really want to ruin that happiness?
Yes, yes, I did. I wanted my own version of happiness. Was that too hard to ask for?
I found one interesting piece from a few months ago, about a rebellion in a small town across the border. Rumor was that an ex-CIA agent was involved, but there was no mention of who that could possibly be.
I hated dead ends. My money that I had budgeted for this
trip was starting to run low, and if I didn’t come through with a breakthrough soon, I was going to have to abandon it. I would go home empty- handed.
A rap on my driver’s side window interrupted my thoughts and I jumped, glancing over at a glaring Keith.
Great. Just great.
I rolled down the window, giving him a winning smile. “Hi there, Keith.”
