Page 9 of Reckless

Ghost only gets that still when his brain is working overtime, quietly trying to fix a problem before anyone else even realizes there’s one to solve.

His eyes flick to mine once.

Only once.

It lasts less than a second.

Then he looks away and speaks quietly into the phone. “We need delivery guidance. Full term, water broken, contractions under two minutes apart, mother conscious, no visible complications yet.”

Yet. The word lands like a stone.

I hate it.

I hate that he said it.

I hate that he is right too.

Ghost puts the phone to Marley’s ear, and she listens. Marley glances up at him, and whatever the person on the phone says must be useful because she nods once, then shifts closer to Victoria. “Okay, Vic,” Marley says, calm but firmer now. “Listen to me. When the next one comes, I need you not to fight your body.”

Victoria’s head turns slowly. Her hair is damp against her cheek. “I am absolutely fighting my body. My body has betrayed me.”

“I know, honey, but it’s not betraying you. It’s doing exactly what it’s meant to do.”

“Then it’s meant to be an asshole.”

Ro lets out a shaky laugh. “That’s fair.”

The contraction eases, leaving Victoria limp against Sin’s arm, her chest rising and falling too fast. Sin brushes damp hair back from her forehead with a tenderness so at odds with the ink, the cut, and the lethal promise of him that something behind my ribs twists hard.

I have seen this club in blood.

I have seen them at war.

I have seen them plan violence with the kind of calm that makes you understand exactly why men fear the Defiance name.

But this? This is different.

This room is filled with men who know how to survive gunfire, betrayal, police raids, desert heat, and enemies with enough money to rot the world from the inside out. But not one of them knows what to do with the sound of a woman they love bringing life into the middle of their chaos.

So they stand there.

Useless.

Loyal.

Terrified.

Ready to burn the city down if it would help, and completely undone by the fact that it won’t.

Victoria bears down again, and everything else fades into the background.

The room fills with short, sharp breaths, quiet encouragement, and the scrape of boots across the timber floor. Ghost is still talking into his phone. Nitro repeats updates as they come through. Sin never stops talking to Victoria, his voice low enough that only she can hear it.

Someone opens the clubhouse doors, and heat rushes inside, doing absolutely nothing to help. Then Deek wanders back in carrying a pot of boiled water as though he has personally saved the day.

I don’t have the energy to ask why.

Judging by Bear’s expression, neither does anyone else. Bear takes the pot from him. “What the fuck is that?”