JETT (Savage Saints MC Book 3)

by Carmen Jenner

  “And got captured.”

  “Yeah. So, it kind of does matter what everyone thinks. I lost my husband who was sick. He lost his wife to decapitation, and while I wasn’t the one to cause her grievous bodily harm, I still played a part in her death. I contributed to breaking her heart.”

  “Raine, look at me.” She waits until I meet her gaze before going on. “You’re not responsible for Mia’s death. She knew the ramifications of leaving while on lockdown. And while Jett certainly could have kept it in his pants, he’s not to blame either. Mia was a big girl. Their marriage was one of convenience alone. They might have loved each other long ago, but there was no love between them. Anyone could see that.”

  “It doesn’t make it right.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” She shakes her head. “It’s not right and it’s not fair, but life rarely is. What matters is that you’re still here, and you’re having his baby—you are keeping it, right?”

  “I ... I hadn’t thought about the alternative. Is that even a possibility? I don’t know how far along I am. I mean, the only other time I’ve had sex in six years was two weeks ago, and I’m not sure that’s long enough to show up on a test.”

  “Wow!”

  “Yeah. Is it weird that I hadn’t even considered another option? God, this is so messed up.”

  “It’s not weird at all. You love him; he loves you. You’re both ... single?”

  “I think the term is widowed.”

  She screws up her perfect little button nose. “Well, that term sucks.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You’re going to make a great first lady, Raine, and an even better mum.”

  I laugh humourlessly. “I did everything my mother told me to. I married a good man—a sturdy and stable man, someone who could take care of me for the rest of my life, and it turned out his life was cut way too short. And now I’m widowed, broke, and expecting a baby with the president of a motorcycle club. She’d be turning in her grave right now if she could see me.”

  “Does Jett make you happy?”

  “When he’s not making me miserable, sure.”

  “Then I think your mum would be thrilled.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t know my mother.”

  “True, but I know the kind of woman she raised.”

  I smile and puff out my cheeks. “You’re a good friend, Indie.”

  She shrugs. “I know. This couch pulls out, right? Because after that confession, I plan on getting way too drunk to drive.”

  RAINE

  I WAVE TO DIESEL IN the security booth and drive into the clubhouse lot. The main building looms before me, the bricks still burnt and scarred from the car bomb that went off weeks ago. I swallow hard and ignore the nausea roiling in my stomach. “It’s no big deal. I’m just telling him I’m pregnant. That’s all. Just like telling him I need vacation time, or money for cleaning supplies or groceries for the club.”

  I let out a shaky breath and turn off the ignition. “Yeah, right.”

  I climb out of the car and enter the clubhouse. A cheer goes up from Killer, Crazy, Country, and Grim.

  “The bar wench returns,” Country says.

  “Hey, I do more than just pour your drinks.”

  “I know. No one pours ’em quite like you though.”

  Hannah—who’s standing behind the bar pouring Kick a shot—frowns at the old coot. “Hey.”

  “Sorry, darlin’, but your beer’s all head.”

  “At least someone’s giving him head,” Kick says, slapping the older man on the shoulder before downing the shot. He sets the glass on the bar and comes toward me, scooping me up in a hug that lifts me off my feet.

  “Rainy, baby.” He smells like a brewery. They all do, and the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke turns my stomach. Kick lowers his voice to a whisper, “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  “Keep your voice down,” I hiss. “I can’t believe she told you.”

  “She was pretty drunk when I picked her up last night.”

  “Yeah, well, lucky for her. I’d like to be pretty drunk for the next six months.”

  “Uh, uh, uh. My godchild better be fucking perfect. I’m not gonna let you screw him up before he’s even born.”

  “Godchild?”

  “Naturally. Uncle Kick is great with kids.”

  “Uncle Kick sounds like he needs to shut up before I punch him in the nose.”

  “Point taken.”

  I huff out another huge breath. “The boss in?”

  “You see his bike in the lot?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then there’s your answer. Quit stalling and go tell him already so we can celebrate, mama.”

  “Do me a favour? Don’t say anything to the others. I’m not sure how he’s going to take it.”

  “What are you fuckin’ talkin’ about? He’s gonna be overjoyed.”

  “Yeah, okay, captain positive. Have you talked to your girl about babies lately, because she doesn’t seem quite so keen on the idea? I think it’s a big part of the reason why she got so hammered last night.”

  “Whatever. She’s gonna have a whole bunch of rug-rats to look after. I mean, they’ll be mine. Why the fuck wouldn’t she love that?”

  “Beats me.” With a glance over his shoulder at a stony-faced Grim, I march away, down the long hall to Jett’s office. I’ve walked this hallway so many times, worried about my job, worried he’d fire me because I behaved like some stupid lovesick puppy by bringing him his coffee and a muffin every day. Perhaps I should have bought him a bun today and broke the news that way? Surprise, no muffin for you—just a bun in my oven because you failed to remember the fucking condom.

  Anger flashes through me as I approach his door, but the second I open it and see those bright blue eyes and that crooked grin, all the anger drains from me. This isn’t his fault or my fault—we’re both to blame.

  “What brings you to my office, darlin’? Come to beg me to make love to you and then yell at me some more?”

  I frown and push aside my annoyance as I close the door. “I’m pregnant.”

  “What?”

  “I took like twenty tests and my doctor confirmed it this morning. I mean, I still have to wait for the bloods to come back, but I’m pretty sure the pressure on my bladder, the all-day nausea, and the sore boobs are concrete evidence.”

  His mouth gapes like a fish without water.

  “And so help me God,” I continue, “if you ask me if this child is yours, I swear, Jett, I will strangle you.”

  He stares blankly at me, and then at the floor, and then at his hands as he cups them over his face.

  “Will you say something, please?”

  “You’re pregnant. With my baby?”

  I roll my eyes. “Didn’t we just go over this?”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “No wonder you’re so fuckin’ crabby.”

  “I am not crabby. I am tired. I am hormonal. I am scared, and I’m growing a life inside me.”

  “You’re having my baby.” His lips tip up in that crooked smile again.

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re having a goddamn baby!” he whisper-yells, and his long legs swallow the distance between us. He cups my cheeks and kisses me. It’s sweet, it’s sinful, and it’s everything I wanted. Everything I want. “We’re having a baby.”

  I nod. “We’re having a baby.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about kids.”

  “Me either.” I look up at him, slightly terrified.

  “You’re going to look fucking hot with my baby inside you.”

  I shake my head. “I’m going to look like an angry whale.”

  “But you’ll be my angry whale, with my whale baby in your belly.”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  He kisses me again and takes my hand, leading me toward the door.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To celebrate.” He pulls me down the corridor and addresses e
veryone. “Listen up, you free-loading fuckers, Raine is no longer gonna be working here.”

  I frown and turn to him. “What?”

  “That’s right. She’s knocked up with my kid inside her. So, from now on, you pour your own goddamn drinks, and you clean up after yourself.”

  Shouts, whoops, and whistles fill the room, and the boys all rush towards us, scooping me up and laying kisses on my cheek, calling me “mama” the way Kick had just a few minutes ago.

  Amongst the fray, I glance at Jett—who seems awfully proud of himself. I hate to burst his bubble, but there’s a simple fact I can’t get over. “You’re firing me?”

  He grins as Tank slaps him on the back with congratulations. “I don’t want you workin’ the clubhouse anymore.”

  “Why the hell not? Is this because I’m pregnant? Because I can still work.”

  “Not while you’re carrying my baby, you can’t.”

  I laugh because he can’t be serious. “I’m not going to sit around like a house-frau stuffing bonbons in my face.”

  “The fuck you talkin’ ’bout, woman?” Jett turns to me and draws me close, but I’m not done with this conversation yet.

  “I’m not a housewife, Jett. I work. If not for you, then I’ll find someone else to work for. I’ll go insane if I don’t have something to keep me busy.”

  “Then you can keep busy doin’ up the nursery, and pleasin’ your old man.”

  I blink, long and slow, and I clench my fists, so I won’t grind my teeth down to the gums. “We’re going to be having a long chat after this.”

  “We don’t gotta talk ’bout nothin’, darlin’. Unless it’s you gettin’ naked for me.” He pulls me in for a hug. I don’t hug him back because biker or not, there will be no getting naked until this is sorted. And seeing as he just fired me, he’s no longer my boss so he can’t tell me what to do. I bury my head against his chest anyway because it feels good to be held. I wasn’t sure this would be happy news, so having him smile and want to wrap me up in cotton wool—no matter how archaic—is still kind of nice.

  “We’re definitely going to be talking when we’re alone.” I smile up at him as he leans down to kiss my lips.

  Movement from the bar catches my eye. Grim. He turns and raises a shot glass to us in a silent toast, then he slams it down on the bar and walks away. All the breath leaves my lungs in a rush. I didn’t want him to find out this way. I know this can’t be easy for him. I’m aware Grim has feelings for me, but until my talk with Indie last night, I hadn’t known he was actually in love with me. I’m not even sure I really believe that, but either way, anyone can see he’s hurting right now.

  “He’ll come ’round, darlin’,” Jett whispers. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Don’t. He’s not the enemy here. I don’t want the two of you fighting.”

  “Then he better pull his fuckin’ head in.”

  I sigh, staring at the hallway as if Grim will just magically reappear. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s the decent thing to do, Jett.”

  “Fine, but if he says anything to upset—”

  “Then I wouldn’t tell you anyway.”

  “When did you get so fuckin’ stubborn?”

  “About the time I was held at gunpoint, kept hostage in lockdown, and you impregnated me.”

  “Jesus, woman. I may impregnate you again talkin’ like that.”

  “Later.” I leave him with a wistful smile and walk down the hall. I rap on Grim’s door. He doesn’t answer, so I knock again and enter without permission. He’s sitting in a ratty old armchair, smoking a joint and nursing a bottle of Jameson Whiskey. He puts out the smoke in an ashtray on the coffee table and kicks the chair beside him to indicate I should sit down. “I guess congratulations are in order, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You two sure moved fast. Your husband’s been dead, what? A week? Or is it two?”

  I wince. “I’m almost eight weeks.”

  “You fuck him just that one time in lockdown, or have you been goin’ at it a while now?”

  I shake my head. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t treat me like a whore when you know I’m not.”

  “Had sex with a man who wasn’t your husband, didn’t ya? I call it like I see it, sweetheart.”

  “You know, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I came here today. I thought maybe Jett might reject me, but I never expected it from my closest friend.”

  He laughs humourlessly. “Your closest friend, huh? Damn, I didn’t know you thought so fuckin’ highly of me.”

  “Why are you being like this? Why can’t you just be happy for me, for us?”

  “Because I fuckin’ love you, Raine!” Grim stands and kicks the coffee table with his foot. It flips on its side, ash and cigarette butts spilling out over the worn carpet.

  I flinch and get to my feet.

  “I don’t know how much clearer I could have made that without dragging you back to my room by the fuckin’ hair. I’m not happy for him. I’m not happy for you. I’m fucking miserable because you just broke my goddamn heart.”

  “And you’ve just broken mine. I guess we’re even now, huh?” Tears well in my eyes and I head for the door before he can see them fall, but he grabs my arm and jerks me back to him, my spine against his firm torso. His arms wrap tightly around my body and he rests his chin on my crown. “Let me go.”

  “No. Don’t leave. I’m an arsehole. I’m sorry.”

  I bring my arms up and slide my hands over his forearms, still wrapped around me, feeling the scarred, mutilated flesh. He stills, and I can tell he’s trying hard not to pull away. I rub his arms, gently, carefully, showing him I’m not afraid of his imperfections, only of his temper, only of the harsh and wicked things he says. “I need you, Grim. You’re my friend, and I don’t have a lot of them. I want you to be happy for me.”

  “And if I can’t?”

  I shake my head and he turns me in his arms. My tears are spilling freely down my cheeks. He gently wipes them away with his thumbs as he cradles my head in his hands. “If you can’t, then I guess we’re no longer friends.”

  “Is that what you want?” He studies my face, his gaze lowering to my lips.

  “No. That’s not what I want.”

  “I don’t know how to see you any other way than mine.”

  My breath sticks in my throat. I feel like he just punched me in the stomach and knocked the wind clean out of me. I wrap my fingers around his hands and remove them from my face, bringing them to my lips. I kiss his scars, his ruined hand and the other perfectly calloused one, and I let them go. “You have to. You have to because you don’t have another choice. I belong to him now, and I don’t want you to die. Brother or not, patched member or not, Jett will kill you. I love him, Grim.”

  “You his old lady now—the mother of this club?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “You gonna ride on the back of his bike, be a mother to all our lost sons?”

  “Maybe, or maybe I’m just mother to his son. But you’re still going to be there, right? You’re not going to run away, go nomad, and up and leave me?” He doesn’t meet my gaze and I probe. “Grim, you’re not leaving, right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You can’t. I need you.”

  “What if I can’t be here? What if I don’t want to stay to watch your belly grow fat with another man’s child?”

  “Please? I know I’ve asked a lot of you since we met, but please, please do this one thing for me.” I sob into his chest. I know I have no right to ask this of him. I have no right, but I’m asking anyway. “I can’t stand the thought of driving you away from your family. I can’t stand not having you in my life.”

  He squeezes me so tightly my spine cracks. “This changes everything, you know? Being his old lady means that target on your back just bec
ame a whole lot bigger.”

  I swallow hard and meet his gaze. I hadn’t thought about that. What happened the night Grim saved me could be a regular occurrence. It suddenly makes a lot more sense—Jett offering to move in with me, the apartment he purchased for me, my car getting fixed free of charge—everything he’s done since that night was to protect me, to keep me safe. I hadn’t asked what kind of threats were being made against me, if any but it seems Jett and I need to have a very long chat.

  RAINE

  Four months later

  I PAD SOFTLY OUT TO the lounge, careful not to wake Jett. He had a late night, and my tossing and turning once he was home didn’t help. Neither did my pregnancy snoring, I’m sure. I pull the afghan from the couch and wrap myself in it, staring out the plate-glass windows on the already bustling apartment complex. The couple across the way are having sex again on their balcony, and I grab myself a coffee—decaf, of course—and sit on the couch, watching with interest as they remain oblivious. Or perhaps they know they’re being observed? Why else would you have sex in what amounts to a very public place with so many apartments facing one another? A kick comes from inside my womb. My hand covers my protruding belly and I give my sole occupant a little nudge. “Good morning, pretty girl.”

  “Who you callin’ pretty?” Jett slides his arms around me under the afghan and rubs my belly. Of course, the perv can’t resist skimming his hands up to cup my breasts which are always aching these days.

  “Good morning.”

  “How are my two favourite girls?”

  “Still sleepy.” I lean into his kiss, and the bastard swipes my coffee cup and takes several deep gulps.

  “Jesus, that’s gross.”

  “Then get your own caffeinated beverage. Mine is sans caffeine and sans joy but at least it won’t give our baby brain damage.”

  “As opposed to the hammering I’m going to give her.”

  “Okay, you can get off me now. That was the worst mood killer ever.”

  “I meant with my dick.”

  “Not any better.”

  “I meant, I’m going to hammer you.”

  “Uh-uh. No. You, mister, will be staying far, far away from my vagina until I can clear that godawful image from my head.”