And Pixie is crying now. Her voice barely makes it past the ringing in my ears as it cracks. “It’s not anything bad. She’s just—she’s?—”
“Spit it out,” Saint snaps.
Pixie sobs, sucking in a few hard breaths before the words burst out of her. “She’s pregnant!”
I go still, putting together all the clues. It’d been circling my thoughts, but I never solidly landed on this conclusion. Medically, I know it’s possible so soon, but I didn’t imagine.
“What?” Saint asks. The shock on his face is as clear as the feeling echoing in my chest.
A future I didn’t plan for—but will die to protect—slams into me all at once.
Sin’s fists unclench and clench again. “You better not be fucking with us, Pix.”
Pixie’s pale face is a mess of tears. “I’m not. I swear. She’s been trying to figure out how to tell you.”
I look down at Wren, unconscious against my chest. My fingers filter through her hair, and the tightness in my chest doubles.
Pregnant?
This changes everything. Every threat just multiplied. Every line we wouldn’t cross just moved.
She’s carrying the future. And god help anyone who tries to take it from her.
35
WREN
Standing behind the bar in the club’s lounge feels completely different than the first time a few weeks ago. I can confidently mix drinks, smile at the club members as I hand them out, and not feel like a new piece of prey for them to leer at.
Instead, I have the entire club monitoring me, checking to see if I feel okay, if I’m light-headed, if I need to take a break or sit down or eat. It’s a little overwhelming, but the change is nice.
These men aren’t just snarling beasts ready to kill any man who steps wrong. They’re big softies. Dads. Guards to my safety. I’m learning to appreciate every single one of them.
It makes putting my foot down both easier and harder. I don’t want to discourage them, but I do need to keep my sense of control. My autonomy. It’s not as big of a battle as I thought it would be.
As it used to be.
Things feel so different now. I don’t know why I was so scared to tell them I was pregnant.
Maybe I just didn’t believe it yet. The shock was overwhelming.
I’ve had too many of them in a small span of time—running from my wedding, getting married to a stranger who runs a motorcycle club, a local sheriff that tried to hand me back to my monstrous ex, being saved so many times, learning to love being touched, losing my virginity, being disowned, being shot, escaping my ex a second time…and finding myself pregnant.
Talk about a complete turn around for my life.
My dad even called me a week ago, and we went out on a coffee date. Saint drove me in and sat at the table behind Dad the entire time, between me and the door. He opted to be able to see me rather than hear me, but that also made it hard for me not to stare at him the entire visit.
I bought a fancy hot chocolate with whipped cream and crushed candies on top and a giant croissant—something Dad would have chided me over before. But he didn’t. Instead, we talked about Robbie, even though it seemed like I knew more than he did about what my brother was really going through.
Dad needed to talk through it though. He struggled to understand why Robbie would sacrifice so much. I doubt he knew it was for me.
He did ask me about Saint, which surprised me. Or maybe not with his lingering presence. My smile is what convinced him. I glowed. Dad relaxed an inch.
I haven’t forgiven him yet for trying to marry me off to Grant. For the things he’s pushed my brother into doing. For using me as a piece of his empire instead of treating me like his daughter.
Our relationship is still tenuous, but he’s trying. So I am, too. It also means Mom and Robbie have the freedom to reach out to me.
Once it was obvious we were done, Saint swooped in, nodded to my father, and swept me out to his bike and back home.
