A full bladder propelled me from the bed. I sat up, swiped tears from my cheeks and then forced myself to rise. I grabbed the nightstand to steady myself and then I went to the bathroom. After I did my business, I splashed cold water on my face. I dried my cheeks with a towel and stared at my reflection.
He’d walked out, and he’d taken my heart with him.
It didn’t matter that he didn’t love me. I couldn’t stop loving him. I didn’t even hate him for it. But I was sad. So fucking sad for what that meant for me. For our baby.
I slid my hands down my body and cradled the tiny swell that had just started to appear. “We’ll do it on our own. We’ll be fine. Better than fine. I’ll give you everything, little acorn. I promise. You won’t even—” My voice broke, but I forced myself to continue speaking. “You won’t miss him. I’ll be enough for you.”
How easily I’d let myself entangle my life with Slash’s. How fast I’d fallen for the man who’d shown me passion and attention. For the man who’d rubbed my feet when they hurt, who’d given me orange juice after morning sickness, who’d taken care of my problems to protect me.
I’d find a way to live without him. I’d find a way to plug the empty hole in my heart. I’d love my baby and pray that it would be enough to sustain me.
Because I wasn’t doing this again. I wouldn’t risk being hurt like this again. I’d be a mother and I’d be a successful business owner. I’d shut out everything else.
But what about the friends I’d made? The Blue Angels had taken me in as family. They’d helped me when I was in a pinch. They hadn’t let me fail.
Had they known? Had the Old Ladies known about Slash’s past and who he’d visited?
It was late. Too late to text Mia or Darcy and ask.
I slid into a pair of shoes, grabbed my jacket and keys, and left—and did the only thing I could think of. I drove to the clubhouse.
South Paw and Crow were at the gate. I rolled down my window to speak to South Paw.
“Slash isn’t here,” he said.
“I’m not here for Slash. Is Duke here?”
“Yeah.” He shot Crow a look. “Duke’s here. I wouldn’t—Brooklyn, are you sure you want to go in there?”
“I’m sure.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Slash’ll have my hide for this.”
“Fuck Slash,” I seethed. “Let me through. Now.”
South Paw sighed. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Ignoring him, I waited for Crow to open the gates, then I drove through. I parked on the gravel lot at the far edge and cut the engine. I locked the car and headed toward the clubhouse. Young women with teased hair, wearing heavy makeup and not a lot of clothes were on the porch. A few of them were smoking cigarettes and drinking from glass bottles.
They eyed me warily. One of them said, “You’re not dressed to party, hun. You lookin’ for trouble?”
I ignored the comment and continued inside. Loud music was pumping from the speakers. I vaguely noted that none of the Blue Angels with families or Old Ladies were present. Savage was sitting on the couch with a woman on his lap. There were several men I didn’t recognize, but I didn’t waste time to introduce myself.
I marched over to Savage, who looked up at me. Shock registered in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Where’s Duke?” I demanded.
“No idea. I haven’t seen him.”
I moved past the couch, down the hallway. Acid had a smiling woman caged against the wall and his hand was beneath her short denim skirt.
“Have you seen Duke?” I demanded, not caring that he was in the middle of something.
“Upstairs, I think. Why?”
“None of your business.”
I could’ve asked Acid or Savage if they’d known about Slash, but I was closer to Duke. Duke had been my shadow for weeks. Duke had teased me and over time had come to feel like a brother.
“Duke!” I yelled when I got to the second landing. When no doors opened, I called out again, “Duke, if you don’t come out here, I’ll start opening all the doors!”
A few seconds later, Duke popped his head out and said, “Stop hollering. I heard you the first time.”
“I’ll holler. I’ll holler until you come out here and talk to me.”
“What did I do?” he demanded.
“You tell me.”
He raked a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’ll meet you out at the picnic table. Okay?”
My gaze narrowed.
“Okay, I get it. You’re dead serious. I promise I’ll meet you down there. And I won’t keep you waiting.”
I nodded and then marched downstairs. I passed through the hallway and several closed doors. I heard the unmistakable sounds of couples screwing and having a grand old time doing it.
My stomach dropped when I realized I wasn’t going to have that with Slash anymore. We weren’t going to be the couple that couldn’t keep our hands off one another at parties, slinking away for moments of privacy. I wouldn’t give the baby to Darcy, or Mia or Linden, and entice Slash with a sway of my hips and the promise of some quick fun in the dark.
A broken cry escaped my lips, and I shoved my fist into my mouth and pushed open the screen door. I had a measure of privacy outside, and with the aid of the external lights of the clubhouse, I made my way to a picnic table out back. I took a seat and waited for Duke.
True to his word, he was down only a few minutes later, still looking disheveled.
Part of me felt bad for interrupting him—he’d clearly been with a woman.
But he gave me his full attention the moment he approached. He held a bottle of liquor by the neck and sat next to me. “What’s up? Does Slash know you’re here?”
“No.” My voice sounded small and meek. “I came to ask—” I exhaled. “I know about Slash’s past. Do you know about it?”
Duke ran a hand across his scruff and then took a sip of booze. “I know he was married and she died, but I don’t know anything more than that. No specifics. Colt knows everything, though.”
“He does?”
Duke nodded. “Yeah. Prez wanted to know about it when Slash asked to stay with the club. Like, become a full-on member and stop being a Nomad. Look, we have a code. When a club chapter allows someone to become a Nomad, they’re saying you’re free to travel and still be a full club member. That tells the other chapters the Nomads haven’t done anything to get booted from the club, but it also means they aren’t tight with anyone. Hard to keep close friends when you’re traveling all the time. Slash wanted to stay here and be part of something bigger than himself again, and when he asked to do it, he had to tell Prez why. It’s about respect, you know? Prez told the rest of us just enough about his past so we could decide to vote him into the club or not, so he could really be a part of it. He’s one of us now.”
“On his way back from Idaho, he stopped off in Nebraska to see his mother-in-law.” I swallowed. “He didn’t want her to be alone on the anniversary of her daughter’s death.”
“Fuck, Brooklyn.”
“You knew, didn’t you?”
“I knew,” he admitted.
“You didn’t tell me. I thought we were friends, Duke.”
“We are friends,” he insisted. “But Slash is my brother now. You still don’t get how deep this goes.”
“The club trumps everything, huh?” I folded my hands in my lap, wishing this wasn’t all such a mess.
Duke reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “You should go home.”
“I should, shouldn’t I?” I said quietly. “I’ll do that.” I stood up and started for the door.
“Brooklyn?”
I looked at him over my shoulder.
“We’re your family, too.”
“Families don’t keep important shit from one another.”
I went home. Not to the house I was renting with Slash, but to the bakery. It was my comfort place. And it was mine.
Instead of parking in the dark lot behind the building, I pulled into a spot across the street from Ella’s closed shop. The street was torn up, the building was vacant and the lack of vibrancy in the area hit me hard.
The bakery would survive—and thrive—without Slash’s help. He’d made it easier, but I was no stranger to hardship. I could do it on my own. And I wasn’t really on my own anymore. I had Jazz and Brielle, and we had new business drummed up from the success of Imogene’s wedding.
I unbuckled my seat belt, unlocked the door, and reached over to grab my purse. The driver’s side door was suddenly wrenched open and strong, gloved fingers gripped my wrist and ripped me out of the vehicle.
With a strangled cry, I faced my assailant.
A masked man loomed over me, the light of the streetlights illuminating a black balaclava that covered his face, revealing only a set of eyes that made him appear like a demonic joker.
“You stupid cunt,” he hissed as he smacked the side of my head with an open palm. My brain rattled in my skull and tears flooded my eyes, marring my vision. But I recognized the voice immediately…
Kurt.
I clawed at him with my free hand and was vindicated when he cried in pain from my nails raking across his eyes. If I could just get him to drop my wrist, I could get my purse…
“You’re fucking everything up,” he snapped. “You were supposed to sell your building. You think you’re hot shit because you’re screwing some low-life biker? You’re a Goddamn cum dumpster! He doesn’t give a fuck about you.”
He wrapped his hand around my throat and then shoved me against the car. My body made a resounding thud as it hit the vehicle. Kurt squeezed, and I flailed against him in an attempt to free myself, but he was too strong.
My vision was going dark, and I was in danger of losing consciousness when a shadow blurred through the night and barreled into Kurt. His hand dropped from around my throat, and I sucked in a breath of air.
The blood began to return to my head and my vision cleared.
Slash was on top of Kurt. He pulled his fist back and slammed it into Kurt’s masked jaw. But that wasn’t enough for him. Slash kept punching until blood began to flow from underneath Kurt’s hooded face. Kurt went limp, and Slash grabbed the balaclava and ripped it off. When he saw the face of the man who’d attacked me, his expression morphed into a primal beast, and he began to beat him again—this time smashing Kurt like his purpose was murder.
“Slash,” I said feebly.
He was mid-punch when he stopped and turned to look at me, arm still raised. His eyes were dangerous. He looked almost feral.
I didn’t know how he had come to be here, but he’d saved me. I didn’t know how far Kurt had been going to take it, but he wouldn’t be able to hurt me now.
I placed a hand on my belly, and Slash’s gaze followed my movement. He looked away from me to stare down at Kurt, who he’d beaten unconscious. Slash climbed off him and stood and then came toward me, reaching his hands out to examine me with bloody, raw knuckles.
His fingers gently roved over the tender skin of my neck. “That fucker is going to die for laying a hand on you.”
Shock at Kurt’s physical assault, Slash showing up like a violent, avenging shadow and the emotion of the last several hours finally caught up with me.
My legs went out from under me, but before I could fall to the ground Slash was there to hold me up.
I clung to him and pressed my face into his chest. His arm was around me, but with the other he dug into his pocket and took out his phone. A moment later, he had the cell to his ear, and he said, “It happened.” He paused. “The street at the end of the bakery. You’ll see when you get here.” He paused again. “Yeah, later. The spot. You know which one. I’ll meet you there after I’m done.”
He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. Slash pulled away and cradled my face in his hands. “I need Doc to check you out.” He slid his hand lower to my belly. “I need to make sure you’re both okay.”
I nodded and leaned into him. Tears crept out the corner of my eyes. “How’d you know I was here?”
“Duke called. Said you were going home. I knew you weren’t going back to the house.”
I collapsed against him again and cried out my anguish, my pain, the terror of having a man come after me and physically hurt me.
Slash let me cry and didn’t try to stop me. My tears didn’t faze him. We spent a long time holding each other while I sobbed, and time seemed to slow.
After a while, we heard a moan from the body on the ground. Slash released me slowly and turned back to Kurt. “Close your eyes, Brooklyn,” Slash commanded over his shoulder.
I immediately did as he said, but I should’ve plugged my ears too, because even though I wasn’t watching as Slash meted out more brutality, I heard the sickening crunch of bones breaking and the air rushing out of Kurt’s lungs as Slash beat his ribs.
A white van turned down the road and came to a halt in the middle of the street. A man got out of the driver’s seat—he was easily over six-four wearing army pants and a black T-shirt that strained against his bulging muscles. He looked at me and gave me a chin nod, and then, without a word, scooped Kurt Antol’s unconscious form off the pavement like he was a bag of rice and carted him to the back of the van. With one hand, he opened the door and chucked Kurt inside before grabbing something and then slamming the door shut. He turned to Slash and tossed him a brown plastic bottle and then climbed back into the van and drove off.
“Who was that?” I asked, my mouth gaping.
“Ghost,” Slash said.
“Is he a biker? He doesn’t look like a biker.”
“He’s not a biker. He’s not affiliated with the club.”
“It’s only been a few minutes. How did he get here so fast?”
“He was in the area.”
“Just hanging out?” I demanded, knowing there was more to Slash’s story.
He sighed. “I knew it was only a matter of time before Kurt or someone that worked for him tried to get to you. Why do you think I had Duke and the others with you when I couldn’t be here? Bikers don’t just spend their time hanging out with Old Ladies. That was protection from a real threat, Brooklyn. We know these types of people. They always escalate. Always.”
Slash twisted off the white cap of the bottle and then poured liquid all over the blood-soaked pavement. A white foam formed immediately, and a rose-colored river of blood began to flow and then disappear.
I watched as Slash worked and realized there was more to this man than I fully understood, and that he really had thought of nothing else but my safety and protection. “Where’s he taking Kurt?”
“It’s better that you don’t know.”
“And I’m guessing I shouldn’t ask what’s going to happen to him?”
He shot me a long look that said plenty. I worked my lip through my teeth and then nodded. “Are you—do you want to yell at me? For coming here alone?”
“I’m the reason you weren’t thinking clearly.” His hand brushed my neck. “Still need to get you to Doc, okay?”
There were things we could say to each other later. When we were alone, when it was safe.
When Slash didn’t have literal blood on his hands.