GABRIEL’S BABY: Iron Kings MC

by Evelyn Glass

  But it was familiar regardless. He squinted, realizing this was no stranger pulling up in front of his room. The cut bore the familiar sickle and spade of the Carvers logo. He squinted. It was a brother.

  “Zane.” Butch nodded at him as he slipped his helmet off, hanging it on the handlebar. He and Zane hadn’t talked much at the clubhouse. Seemed like Zane was always giving him the evil eye. Maybe that was just how he looked normally though. Either way, Butch hadn’t cared much to find out.

  “Butch.” Zane straightened his cut, stepping up onto the sidewalk.

  “What are you doing here?” Butch leaned against the doorframe, the skin on the back of his neck prickling. The surprise visit felt…off. Why hadn’t Geo or Zebra called first? It was just one more confusion on this shit pile of a morning.

  “Came for Gidge.” Zane jutted out his chin toward the doorway where Butch stood. “It’s time for her to go home.”

  Butch eyed him, trepidation making a slow crawl through his shoulders. Now shit was really getting strange. Zane’s tone didn’t leave any room for discussion. “Why didn’t anyone call us?”

  “Wasn’t how Geo wanted it.” Zane wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  Butch examined his knuckles, weighing his words. “What the fuck has been going on back there? Nobody would tell us more than a few words at a time.”

  Zane shrugged. “It’s calming down now. Which is why it’s time for Gidget to come home.”

  “I can bring her.” Butch crossed his arms, searching out Zane’s gaze even if it physically hurt to do so.

  “I’ll take her back.” Zane ran his tongue over his teeth.

  Butch swallowed. “Geo put me in charge of taking care of her. I’ll take her back.” He straightened his back. “No reason for you to have come all the way out here, either.”

  Zane stepped forward. “Butch, I have orders from Geo to take her back myself. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

  “Let me talk to him.” He jerked his chin toward Zane. “Go on. Call him.”

  Zane’s mouth went thin. “I can’t.”

  “Oh no? Bull shit.”

  “Geo went dark.” Zane crossed his arms. “He’s underground right now. This was his last order.”

  Butch studied him, trying to tease out fact from fiction. It was hard, when he and Gidget had been left to their own devices in Shreveport, basically cast aside from the inner workings of the clubhouse. But his gut told him something weird was going on. He didn’t like Zane’s sudden appearance, even if he was a brother. Felt a lot like someone showing up uninvited to a private party with a gun hidden in their back pocket.

  “How long has he been dark?”

  Zane let an exasperated sigh. “Butch, I don’t have time for these questions. I need to leave now so we can get back to Sturgis by nightfall. Where’s Gidget?”

  Butch gritted his teeth. “Not here right now.”

  “So? Where is she?”

  Butch turned, walking into the motel room. He flipped a light on, struggling to think of a response that wouldn’t incriminate him or Gidget…but get Zane off his back.

  “Butch?”

  He turned, finding Zane standing with palms out at his side in the doorway. “What?”

  “I said where is she?” Zane stepped inside, his gaze trekking across the room. Butch noticed his gaze got stuck on the single queen bed in the room. Fuck. He’d forgotten about that part. After a month living like this…it just became natural. Zane was such an unwelcome reminder of the outside world, the life he’d left behind.

  “You two been shacking up?” Zane’s eyes shot up to meet his and Butch scrubbed at his jaw. He was at a loss. Where to even begin?

  “We’ve been here a month.” Like that was any sort of response. He jerked his gaze down to the floor.

  “No shit. So where is she? We need to go. Now.”

  Butch sighed. “She went out for a minute.”

  Zane lifted a brow. “And why aren’t you with her?”

  “She wanted her space.” Butch’s heart thudded. “Like I said, we’ve been here a month. She needed it.”

  “And you just let her wander off on her own while you two are on lockdown?” Zane squinted at him.

  “You said things were better. Guess she picked a good day to wander off.” Butch sniffed.

  “Don’t be smart.” Zane eyed him. “Don’t need that attitude. I need Gidget.”

  That tone rubbed him the wrong way. “I’m not being smart,” Butch snarled. “Now you either accept what I’ve got to say or get the fuck out.”

  Zane balled his fists, staring down Butch from across the room. Testosterone sizzled in the air between them, water on a live wire. So that stink eye he’d gotten from Zane all along really had been directed at him. He could see it now. The way Zane looked at him told him that man had a special distaste for all things Butch.

  “Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Zane said, his voice measured.

  “Never told you nothin’,” Butch countered, kicking at the wall, his steel toed boot clunking against the drywall. “Except what I got to offer.”

  “I think I’ll be staying here then,” Zane said, his eyes growing glassy. “Wait for Gidget to show up so I can take her the fuck away from here.”

  Again that tone grated on him, made him feel like nails were being dragged down a chalkboard somewhere. Zane couldn’t stay here. No way in hell. Butch needed to find Gidget his own damn self, not cop to this guy who just rolled up on a whim.

  “You can wait outside.” Butch nodded toward the doorway.

  “I think I’ll wait in here.” Zane plopped down into the chair by the door.

  Butch balled his fists, fighting a surge of frustration. “Outside.”

  The two of them were loose betta fish, itching to establish territory. But Butch wasn’t going to let this slide. Not when his Gidget was on the loose somewhere, and he needed to make the trip back to the clubhouse to find her.

  It wasn’t about her running into the arms of the clubhouse. Of course she’d be safe there. No, now it was that he needed her to be in his arms first. To get the full story. So they could continue on the same page, knowing she was safe and sound with him.

  “Butch, I’m not gonna say it again.” Zane leaned forward, reaching behind him. His gun. Butch’s senses drew up tight like a bungee cord and he strode forward, grabbing Zane by the front of his cut. Zane protested but Butch punched him as hard as he could across the face. Zane shouted and swung back, clipping Butch in the side. But it barely registered. Butch’s mind was made up. Butch would be the only one leaving the motel this morning.

  Butch punched him until his knuckles bled. When Zane went limp, Butch shoved him back into the chair, stepping back to make sure he was really knocked out.

  Chest heaving, Butch waited a few minutes just to see. And when Zane didn’t make a peep, Butch gathered all his things and Gidget’s for good measure. And then he bolted out the door and hopped on Zane’s motorcycle.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Gidget gnawed on the inside of her lip in the dingy two-stall bathroom. She’d pissed on the stick a few minutes ago, but wanted it to really set before she looked at it. Just in case there was a mistake, or it needed time to decide. She paced the jewel-tone tiled floor, counting to ten one more time in her head before looking at it. I already know what it says. Why bother looking?

  She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. This wasn’t how she’d envisioned it. Hell, she’d never even envisioned it to begin with. Alone at a diner somewhere between Shreveport and Home. No phone, almost no money. A slew of people probably now wondering where the fuck she’d run off to.

  Anxiety clawed at her, made her feel like she was running impossibly late. What was she even doing here? She needed to get on the bike and keep driving. But where would Butch be? She wanted to go where he’d be. And maybe by now that really was the clubhouse.

  Gidget swallowed a knot in her throat and walked over to the countertop. Two blue lines stared up at her.
She blinked a few times, staring at it until the lines blurred together and then she had to double check again. Pregnant.

  Her mouth parted and she looked up at her reflection in the mirror, trying to find something on her face that made sense. But all she could see was the same dense cocktail that swirled inside her: shock, confusion, worry, and…very deep down, the tremble of excitement.

  The door swung open and she snatched up the test, wrapping it in paper towels to throw away. She avoided the gaze of the newcomer before stepping out into the diner hallway, the news still swirling strangely inside her. You’re pregnant. It’s Butch’s baby. What are you gonna do now?

  Gidget was halfway around the corner when the first biker walked into the diner. She spotted him the second he crossed the threshold. Something about the way the air got heavy in the diner, like last minute before a big test or presentation for which she was totally unprepared. She plastered herself to the wall, trying to avoid being seen while also checking out the new arrival. Just in case it was someone she didn’t want to be seen by.

  A few more entered the diner after the first, and that’s when she noticed it: the familiar dark hair and scowl, the Skull that had chased after her the day she met Butch.

  Those were Skulls. Her heart thumped. Four of them. And she was just one, really one and a half now, by herself. With Butch’s bike. And no Butch.

  Fuck fuck fuck. She kept herself just out of sight, tears choking her throat. She didn’t even have a phone for an emergency SOS call. She was screwed. Her waitress sidled up to the newcomers and asked them if they needed anything. The lead guy said something that made the waitress squint, then look around.

  Gidget darted back into the hallway, considering just escaping out the emergency back door. The alarm would go off though—that would be a definite attention draw. The Skulls would see her, because they had to be her for her. There was no other reason they’d be this far into Louisiana.

  And Butch’s bike is out front. Of course they recognize that. Gidget squeezed her eyes shut, sent up a small prayer, and then peered around the corner again. The waitress was at the far end of the restaurant, by Gidget’s half-eaten plate of pancakes, gesturing while she spoke to the Skulls who were gathered around her. Fuck.

  Her chest heaved as she watched the waitress. The four Skulls plopped down into her booth. Gidget’s stomach shrank to a knot. When the waitress headed back down the aisle toward the bar area, Gidget waved her down.

  The waitress hurried her way, her face wrought with worry. “Honey, do you know those men?”

  “I don’t,” Gidget said, her legs going weak. She finally noticed the name tag on her blouse: Karen. “I mean, I do. I don’t know them well, but they’re chasing me.” She swallowed hard, glancing over Karen’s shoulder. “I can’t go back over there. They’ll kidnap me if I do.”

  Her own words resonated harshly between her ears. That was terrifying enough on its own. But now, with the secret bundle forming in her belly? The threat was more serious than ever. She had to protect herself and her baby. And if she hadn’t been such an idiot, she would have told her baby’s father—the man she was desperate to be with, the man she had stupidly fallen for without even telling him—what she was doing and what was going on.

  The immensity of her stupidity bore down on her like a steamroller. Jesus, Gidget. It’s time to wake the fuck up. She wiped away a tear that had fallen and Karen squeezed the sides of her arms.

  “Honey, you can escape out the back door of the kitchen. Don’t try this one because it’ll sound an alarm.” She jerked her head toward the emergency door at the end of the hall. “Once you’re out, I’ll keep ‘em occupied, tell ‘em you just waltzed into the bathroom or something.”

  “What did they say to you?”

  “Asked for a girl that sounded exactly like you,” she said, shaking her head. “Now you listen to me, I ain’t never seen these men before but they look like bad news from a mile away. You need to run, as fast as you can.” Karen paused, her honey brown eyes raking her up and down. “I seen what you tossed in the bathroom too. I know there’s something else along for the ride too.”

  Gidget’s eyes watered and then the dam broke. Tears flowed down her cheeks and the waitress wrapped her in a tight hug. Gidget struggled to control her sobs as she let the emotion spill out of her, dampening the shoulder of Karen’s cream blouse.

  “Did you come into the bathroom after me?” She sniffed, wiping at her eyes. “I didn’t even look at who came in.”

  “I did. Your secret’s safe with me, but we need to get your tush outta here.” Karen peered back into the diner. “I’ll lead the way into the kitchen. You stay close behind me, honey.”

  Gidget nodded, wiping away the last of her spilt tears, and took a deep breath. Questions swelled inside her mind but she couldn’t focus on the how or why of it all right now. She just needed to get safe, and back to Butch.

  She kept her head down as Karen headed back toward the diner, slipping behind the counter of the bar to enter an open doorway leading to the kitchen. The air was clamorous and bright, smelling of fry oil and eggs. Karen grabbed her by the hand, leading her through tight aisles of grills and double-decker fridges.

  “She’s with me,” Karen said as some line cooks sent curious looks their way. Toward the back of the kitchen, near industrial-sized sinks and a conveyor-belt dishwasher, Karen gripped her by the shoulders.

  “Go out this door and run around to your car or bike or whatever you got. I’ll make sure I keep ‘em occupied enough long enough for you to get a head start. And don’t take the conventional route, whatever you do. I don’t know where you headin’, but you should take the back roads. At least for a little while.”

  Gidget nodded, searching Karen’s face for something else, for one last question or reassurance or promise. Something to let her know that everything was gonna be all right. All she could squeak out was, “Thank you.”

  Karen nodded and wrapped her in a hug again. “I just want to see you two safe. Now git.” She pushed her toward the back door, sending a pointed look her way. Gidget pulled open the heavy door, feet crunching against gravel as she tore around the brick building heading toward the parking lot where the bike sat. The only downside: she’d parked in a perfect line of vision from where she’d been sitting. No doubt the Skulls would see her mount and ride off. They’d be on her tail in seconds.

  She just had to be fast. Faster than she’d ever been in her life.

  I just want to see you two safe. Karen’s word ricocheted through her skull, sending pangs of guilt and desperation and longing through her. Yes, Gidget wanted that too. And so much more. She wanted this baby, and Butch, and stability, and her own happiness. She wanted to go back to the creative life she’d led, she wanted to delve into those territories she’d avoided like the plague with romantic partners, she wanted to open herself up to loving Butch and loving this baby and taking on a brand new chapter with brand new challenges.

  The truth rang startlingly clear while the adrenaline pumped, urging her faster to crest the corner. The bike was in sight. But so was she. She pushed herself as hard as she could, keeping her eyes on the motorcycle, not allowing even a glance through the diner window to the Skulls inside. If she saw them now she might falter.

  She slung her leg over the bike, forcing the key into the ignition with trembling hands. The motorcycle rumbled to life, the power between her legs calming her briefly, a reminder of Butch. Help me get out of here Butch. She backed the bike up as fast as she could, her legs like jelly. Though the window of the diner, she saw the four Skulls stand up and take notice. All eyes on her. Spotted.

  Heart in her throat, she revved the bike. A plume of gravel dust flamed behind her as the bike tore off, and when the rubber of tire met road she allowed herself to breathe. She glanced back within the first half mile. All four Skulls were in the parking lot mounting bikes. Panic sliced through her, urging her faster.

  She had a good lead on them—b
ut who knew if they’d catch up? Driving this fast on a bike was not her favorite activity. The buffeting wind and heightened sensitivities of the steering made her feel like she could blow or tumble off at any second. She glanced down at the speedometer, wincing against the fierce wind. Ninety miles per hour. She could handle a smooth sixty or seventy. But this was insane.

  She glanced behind her, nearly veering into the oncoming traffic as she did so. Fuck. She righted herself, sticking to the white line of the lane, sending up a fervent prayer every few minutes.

  Her palms sweat as she contemplated her next move. She had to lose them, like Karen said. But how? She didn’t know where she was going really; just knew that east and north was best. She needed back roads, but didn’t have enough of a lead to safely turn off somewhere and not be spotted. So what choice did she have—drive north as fast as she could until she ran out of gas or her bladder burst?