Jude chuckled and pulled me against him again. “Dec has been here plenty of times; he knows what to expect.”
“Why was my uncle here?”
“Because King was here. Declan was always making surprise visits, trying to catch us doing shit he could throw us in jail for.”
Jude’s voice held a touch of resentment, and I could only guess it was because King never would have ended up behind bars like the rest of them.
“Jude, King is my brother.”
“I know that, Morgan.”
I looked away and bit my lip, blinking back the tears. I didn’t want to have this conversation, but it needed to happen sometime.
“When are you going to let all that shit go?” I asked, bringing my eyes back to his. I wanted him to see what his animosity was doing to me.
Was I using my exaggerated hormones as a tool?
I absolutely was.
Did I care?
No, I did not.
“Morgan,” Jude warned.
“I can’t have you and my brother constantly at odds. I don’t want my child caught in the middle of this biker bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit, Morgan.”
“It is. You don’t believe for a second that King betrayed you. You’re just pissed off he didn’t get hurt too.”
“I’m not doing this with you right now. You’re too emotional—”
“Emotional?” I asked, my rising voice catching the attention of everyone in the room. “Fuck yes, I’m emotional. I’m about to have the Irish Mob here with all these bikers. I’m praying my father doesn’t kill the father of my baby, that my brother doesn’t beat your ass, and my uncle doesn’t arrest you!”
My voice was hysterical. I knew it. Of course I was emotional. But I was pregnant—what did he expect?
“Morgan, darlin’, what do you need to make this a little less stressful for you?” Smokey asked at my side. Jude pierced him with an angry glare, but I smiled.
“Light, Smokey. I need light. There aren’t enough windows to let the light in. I feel like I’m in a prison.”
Smokey looked around the room, nodding, While Jude just stood there, hands on his hips.
“There isn’t anything I can do about the windows right now.” He turned to look at me with a smile. “But how about I send the prospects out for some lamps?”
I threw my arms around Smokey. “Thank you!”
“Prospects!” Smokey yelled, and four of the five men rushed into the room. “You, you, and you. Go to the store and buy some lamps.”
“How many?” Vincent asked.
“As many as you can to brighten up this room,” Jude said, cutting Smokey off before he could give the order.
I smiled at Jude, and his shoulders slumped, some of the anger falling away. It had always been that way. Anytime we argued, or he came home from the clubhouse angry, he said my smile did him in every time.
He used to tell me he couldn’t be angry when the sun was shining down on him.
“Thank you,” I whispered, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He turned his head at the last second and pressed his lips againstmine. His hands grabbed my waist holding me in place, until the front door slammed open.
