I cat nap for most of the night, waking up every thirty minutes to check on Lilly and check the cameras. By the time the sun comes up, I'm exhausted. Bud dog hasn't left her side since we got home. He's nestled at her feet right now, in what is now known as his spot.
My phone is on DND and I swipe down to see the notifications. The club group text has twelve messages and I skim through them. Leo updated about Carrie's leg. Scott confirmed that he dropped Lilly and I at home. Shorty met with the Tattered Saints. I sigh, locking my phone and clanking it on my chest.
I can't help but think of how much simpler life was when I first joined the club. Hardly anyone had a cellphone. There was definitely no texting at first. You actually had to pick up the phone and call in order to get a message through to someone. Otherwise, you just didn't know what the fuck was going on. Different times. Simpler times.
What a fucking dream that'd be.
I'm tired and mad at the world, so it seems sleep isn't on the agenda. I get out of bed, double check the lock on the sliding glass door to our bedroom, and head to the kitchen to do the one thing that makes my life feel somewhat normal. Cook breakfast for my future wife.
Bacon, eggs, and grits with buttered toast. Her favorites. As long as the eggs are scrambled and extra cheesy. My wrist gets to work and I have a full-spread of breakfast done in no time. I've got music playing softly while I plate her eggs and grits. The toast is just popping out of the toaster when those dainty arms snake their way around my waist.
I spin around and kiss her gently on her forehead.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," I muse, leading her over to the table.
"Good morning," she rasps.
"This looks great," she grins, cramming a bite of toast into her mouth.
"Eat up. Mindy and Linc are coming over to babysit you while I go make some decisions and figure out my plan," I tell her.
She nods. "That sounds like a good idea. Can I come?" she jokes.
I kiss her forehead again. "I wish. Unfortunately, you're injured so you're SOL," I shrug, feigning hurt that she can't come.
She rolls her eyes and scoops a spoon of grits onto her toast before taking a hefty bite, chewing it angrily. "Yeah, yeah. I know, I know. CDC."
As soon as Mindy and Linc arrive, I take Trigger to the clubhouse where the rest of the club, the Tattered Saints, and Micah await. Linc wasn't bothered by missing out on this; Mindy's due any day now and he isn't leaving her side. I don't blame him, either. If it were Lilly that were about to pop, you couldn't pay me to be away from her.
“What do you have for me?” I ask Reaper, sitting down at the bar beside him.
“A whole fucking lot, including where that slimy traitor is hiding out,” Reaper says smugly.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Chapter Twelve
Lilly
My head is splitting. My perfect, fun getaway weekend quickly turned into a nightmare. Much like most experiences we've had in the last two years. That's such an odd thing to process. I can't imagine not knowing Cass. I know that I existed before him, but that feels like such a long time ago. Like a time so distant in my memory, it almost doesn't feel real.
"Since you're suffering from head trauma, maybe I can finally get you to make some wedding decisions," Mindy says, plopping on the couch beside me. The jolt makes my head ache and I squint my eyes at her. She winces and offers me an apologetic smile.
"Sorry."
I wave her off. "It's fine. It's just my head."
Mindy rubs a hand over her belly, arching her back as she attempts to resituate herself on my couch.
"Any day now," I note.
"Today would be great," she says, wincing again, this time from her physical pain.
I lean in toward her stomach. "You don't listen to her, Baby M. You stay put until you're good and ready. But, we're all ready to meet you whenever you're done baking in there."
"Oh!" Mindy exclaims.
"What?" I ask, sitting up and immediately regretting the quick transition.
