Jasper is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s been listening to her story. “That was smart. At least it bought you enough time for us to show up.”
I make a snap decision. “I don’t give a fuck about Detective Morgan or any damn thing else. I’m taking you to the hospital to get you checked out.”
I scoop her up in my arms and carry her up the steps. As we walk out the front door, Morgan shows up with half a dozen squad cars.
Jasper gestures with one hand. “What the hell is this? A bit of an overkill for one couple, don’t you think?”
Morgan straightens up, clearly making an effort to look more authoritative. “I got allocated extra resources because my department has been working extra hard to keep our town crime free.”
Jasper doesn’t look impressed. He states, “Yeah, you can thank us for that later, since we’re the ones doing your dirty work as of late.”
Morgan’s eyebrows fly up. “It’s leg work, not dirty work. Law enforcement doesn’t have dirty work.”
“Yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that. Are you comin’ to brunch on Sunday? Allied clubs are comin’ for a quarterly. Thought you might want to extend your sphere of influence.”
Morgan’s eyes light up. “I’d be honored. Is it true that these two are the real killers, instead of Charles Brennan?”
I speak up. “It’s true, and you’ll find the poison they used in a wine bottle in the basement. They tried to kill my old lady. I know you’re gonna want to talk to her, but I’m takin’ her to the hospital right now. She’s pregnant and I want her and the baby checked out.”
He frowns. “On your bike? I think not.” He gestures to a uniformed officer. “Take Mr. Jackson and his fiancé to the hospital and drop them off. They are high-value material witnesses, so be polite and drive safely.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once we’re snuggled up in the back of the cruiser, Emily asks, “Did you ever think you’d be getting a VIP ride as an honored guest of the Cedar Falls PD?”
I snort a laugh. “No, of course not. Cops are supposed to be the enemy of MCs, but since we don’t do illegal shit, I guess we can be on better terms than most other clubs.”
“I meant what I said about being a stronger person because of being around you and your family. Queenie and Tessa make speaking their minds look easy, but it’s a skill I had to learn.”
I pull her close and let her rest her head on my chest. “At least you learned from the best, Em. You know your grandfather would have been proud of the way you handled yourself today, right? Coming at me with that metal bracket like a fucking wildcat.”
“Yeah, about that. Just before you came, I was trying to get out of the air vent. I’m not sure my hefty ass was gonna fit through the hole. I was just out of other options.”
“Your ass is juicy,” I say with a grin. Then add, “Still, I’m proud of your inventiveness. I just wish we’d shown up earlier.”
Her head tilts up and she murmurs, “I knew that you’d come. In fact, I thought it would take much longer than it did.”
“We have Striker to thank. He followed the money, and it led right to Charlotte Brennan.”
We continue to talk and cuddle on the way to the hospital. I must be the luckiest man in the whole fuckin’ world. This is the one time in my life when all the risks landed in my favor. It’s made me realize that Emily is now wrapped so deep in my life and heart that I can’t survive without her.
My hand slides down to cover her still flat belly. This little family I’m creating will be the source of all my joy and happiness in life. I know that all the way down to my soul.
Epilogue
Emily
Three Months Later
The headlines burned hot and fast, then faded the way they always do. Charlotte Brennan and Roger Weaver were arrested first—her charged with the murders of the two women, him with aiding and abetting. The story twists the way stories do when people want villains neatly labeled. Charles’s name floats back up for a while, the murder charges were dropped when it became clear that he had nothing to do with the deaths of those poor women, but the rest stick. Breaking and entering. Holding me hostage. Arson. Enough to put real bars between him and the world for a while.
Between the arson and the false imprisonment alone, he’s looking at years, not months. Five to ten, maybe more if the judge stacks the counts and makes an example of him and his family. It’s strange, part of me does feel sorry for him, the fear and paranoia that drove him to break into my home that day was actually based on something tangible. But then I remember what he did, how he terrorized me and my poor cat—not to mention what he did to his exes. When I remember that, then I’m pleased that he’ll be behind bars.
Christina’s doing okay, she was discharged from the hospital after a night’s stay. She and the baby are fine, and Slate is getting excited about being there for everything this time, seeing as he missed it all with Katie.
And me?
I’m four months pregnant.
