Fanatic (Hellfire MC: The Prospects #1)

Chapter One.

April 2023 - A day later

Willow

I stood at the grave and tried not to shatter. Yesterday, I’d had the strength to hold my ground and honour Grey. Now, I wanted to dig through that disturbed earth and curl up with him. Today, there were no funerals to attend. Our part of South Dakota, for two weeks, had been a constant whirl of them. I had attended each one, feeling numb until Grey’s.

The mass of flowers covering Grey’s grave was crazy. He’d been loved and not known it. If Grey could see this, he would laugh it off and make some stupid joke, as he tended to. Grey hated attention on him, and this would have had him crawling up his own ass. But he didn’t get a say in it; he’d left me.

That probably sounded unfair, and it was. But how else could I look at it? Why the hell hadn’t he obeyed Drake and stayed behind? Because he had been FBI. That’s why. Because Grey was a fucking hero. Another reason.

Tears trickled down my face as I sat on the ground and released my grief finally. I cried for a man put too early in his grave. I’d done my duty yesterday and held it in.

Not today.

Harsh sobs left me as I emotionally collapsed and roared my pain out to the world. With each sob, I lost a dream, and that hurt just as much.

Grey’s and mine future vacations disappeared. Christmas faded away. Carrying Grey’s children and watching him be the best Dad ever, gone. Growing old together never gonna happen.

All the things we’d taken for granted were gone because of one man. Fury. I’d been informed by Irish that Fury had paid. That meant nothing to me. It did not bring Grey back. I suppose Irish thought it would make me feel better, but it didn’t. The knot of pain that I’d been holding unravelled, and I was lost, adrift, and I wasn’t sure what to do.

Strong arms wrapped around me, and I was hauled against a hefty chest. I didn’t need to ask who it was; I knew. A chin landed on my head as I was yanked between muscular thighs and embraced tightly. His tears fell onto me as we both grieved.

Minutes passed. It could have been hours, but I doubted it.

“What you gonna do, babe?”

“I can’t breathe. I gotta leave,” I replied.

“Then do so. Do what you need, people will understand,” he soothed.

“Fanatic, you’re one of my closest friends, so I can say this, and you’ll get it. Fuck people.”

Fanatic released a dark chuckle. “Yeah, I get that feeling often. Chance says I’m becoming anti-social.”

“He isn’t wrong.”

“Nah. Lately, it’s driving me crazy. Since the war, folks come and stare at us or wanna shake our hands and talk. Where the hell were they when we were bleeding in the streets? I ain’t got the patience. If I did not have commitments, I’d run with you,” Fanatic said.

“Am I running?” I asked. That thought displeased me.

“Yup, and can’t blame you. Everyone out there wants a piece of you. You have to put yourself first, Willow. The Feds wish to use you as a poster girl, the lawyers want you as the heroic grieving widow, Rage wanna cling to you. Drake needs you to be there to immortalise Grey. Fuckin’ run, Willow, and heal. Come back when you are stronger.”

“What if that’s never?”

“Bullshit. You’re Willow Ware. You were undercover five years to bring down a cartel. Babe, your father is Axel, your brothers are bikers, your stepmom is a schoolteacher. There’s strength in you. You have to discover it again. Grieve Grey and mourn him well. You’ll never find his equal, but you won’t be alone for the rest of your life. Because Grey would want you to seek happiness, and you will,” Fanatic stated.

“Screw that,” I hissed.

“It’s way too soon to think of moving on, but you will, babe. In time. And don’t believe the bullshit, time heals. The fuck it does. Time means the pain deadens, and you get used to living with it. There is a future for you, just not the one you expected,” Fanatic said.

“You’re sounding like your mother,” I retorted and wiped my eyes as Fanatic chuckled.

“Yeah. Could be worse, I suppose. Willow, my advice as your friend is run. Run far away. Take the time you need. Shits not even started hitting the fan yet, and it will soon. Now the funerals are nearly done, eyes and attention are turning towards why Rapid City stood alone.

“People are demanding to be told why Major General Winslow and Colonel Jefferson are being court-martialled for disobeying orders. They wanna know why the national guard and Airforce weren’t mobilised by the President to protect an American city. Joe public want to know why, for over a year, the President ignored warnings from experts that we had a massive home-grown terrorist threat.” “I can’t believe Winslow and Jefferson have been relieved of duty and court-martialled,” I whispered.

“They lost men. The President acted to shut them up, but it’s too late. Winslow and Jefferson had already given a lawyer evidence of them contacting the higher-ups. And the presidential stamp is on every single refusal where help was requested. And with the camera footage, there’s no denying if the National Guard and Airforce hadn’t helped, we’d have lost Rapid City, and it would have been a massacre.”

“I can’t deal with that,” I admitted.

“So, take a career break and run. For your own sanity, Willow, run. Let the shit settle where it does, but you work on your grief,” Fanatic urged.

“I will do.”

“Don’t cut me out, babe, let me know where you end up,” Fanatic murmured.

I nodded, not knowing I would break my word.

November 2023

Fanatic

I parked the bike and swung towards the entrance of the hospital. The message had got my ass on the first plane out of South Dakota. Yeah, I had purloined Mum’s plane, and anyone with a problem could bite me.

I raced inside and headed for the reception desk.

“Willow Ware,” I demanded.

The nurse in charge studied me. “Pardon?”

“I received a call from a Dr Stratford. I’m Willow Ware’s emergency contact. Dr Stratford said I was needed.”

The woman ducked her head. “Your name?”

“Micah Michaelson.”

“You want level three and the maternity wing. Follow the blue arrows, and they will take your there.”

I’d begun walking away but turned back slowly as I paled. “Maternity? Willow’s pregnant?”

The nurse scrunched her eyes. “Yes. I suggest you make your way up there.” I didn’t bother hesitating and headed to the lifts. Anxiously jabbing the button for the third floor, I tried to gather my thoughts. What the hell was I walking in to? The doctor hadn’t given me much information, just said Willow needed me, and I should come. Maternity had not been mentioned.

I exited the elevator and stormed down the corridors, following the arrows. I punched the intercom to be admitted and gave my name. As I entered, a woman hurried towards me in a midwife’s uniform.

“Mr Michaelson, this way, please,” she called and spun around. My long strides caught her up as she led me to a room.

Inside, someone screamed.

“Go!” the midwife ordered.

Scared, I opened the door and peered in. Willow sat hunched up in bed, a sweaty mess and her legs drawn up as she cursed.

“Come in!” somebody snapped, and I hurried in before standing uselessly.

“Fanatic,” Willow moaned. “No! Why are you here?”

“Because I got a damn call.”

“Go away,” Willow hissed.

“Not happening,” I said. Gathering myself, I moved and sat on the bed behind her. Willow collapsed back against me. On instinct, I wrapped my arms around her, and Willow grabbed my hands.

Oh fuck! She had been working out, judging by her grip. I was sure she’d break my bones.

“Make this stop!” Willow snarled.

“What the hell do you want me to do?” I asked, amused despite my worry.

Somehow, I knew Axel and Ellen had no idea Willow was pregnant. She’d run like I told her too seven months ago, and nobody had heard from her since, apart from the random ‘I’m alive’ text.

“Dad, shut up arguing,” the midwife said.

Well done bitch! That did it. Willow burst into sobs as I freed a hand and rubbed her back. I glowered at the midwife, who looked thoroughly confused.

“I am not the father, I’m her best friend,” I explained.

“Where’s the dad?” the midwife asked, and I wondered about her empathy level.

“Dead!” Willow shrieked as she turned her face into my chest. “Make this stop. I can’t do it without him. Fanatic, tell her I need Grey.”

I rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. “Baby girl, you’re in labour, you got to push.”

“No!” Willow cried, and the midwife looked worried.

“She’s been fighting pushing. Miss Ware, you’ll require a c-section if you continue,” she warned.

“Babe, listen to me. That’s your baby, yours' and Grey's. You gotta push. Grey’s here, and he wants you to push. Do you know what you’re having?” I asked, softly stroking her hair. My eyes watched Willow’s huge, rounded stomach ripple alarmingly.

“No. I want Grey!” Willow wailed.

“I’m sure he’s here. Push Willow, or you’ll hurt his child.” Yeah, that was a dirty thing to say, but I’d no shame in this game. I would not let Willow harm herself or the baby.

Willow stiffened under my hands and then bore down with a huge scream.

“That’s it, I can see the head!” the Midwife called.

A doctor entered, and I saw the name badge. “Mr Michaelson?” she asked.

“I hope so,” I replied sarcastically.

“Glad you could make it in time. Let’s get this child born,” Dr Stratford said.

“Fuck this!” Willow cussed as she bore down again.

“Keep going, push… you have a son!” the doc cried.

An angry wail filled the room, and a wriggling bundle was placed on Willow’s chest. She stared down as my arm curved around her to hold the baby in place.

Willow took one glance and burst into tears. “This is all wrong, Fanatic. Grey should be here to see this.”

“I know,” I said as the midwife quickly removed the baby. She sent Willow a worried glance.

The doctor seemed very busy between Willow’s legs, and I couldn’t look. Instead, I watched the midwife with Grey’s son and kept a sharp eye on her. As I did, I comforted Willow.

“Why was I called?” I finally asked. “I was told this was an emergency.”

“Because Miss Ware was at possible risk of postpartum haemorrhage and was refusing professional help.”

“Babe,” I chided. Willow sobbed in my arms.

I gaped as suddenly the doctor sprung up.

“Get off now, she’s bleeding excessively,” she ordered. I jumped down as the doctor pressed a button, and the room filled with medical staff. Someone lowered the headrest, and Willow was laid down as they rushed her out. A midwife moved to leave with the baby, and I stopped her.

“Where you taking him?” I demanded.

“To be checked.” “Yeah, you do that here. Until I know what’s happening with his momma, that boy stays with me,” I ordered.

“You can’t stop me,” she snapped.

“Darlin’, you don’t know who you’re messing with. You ain’t taking that kid. I’m his guardian in his Momma’s absence. He goes nowhere, and if you argue within ten minutes, I’ll have lawyers crawling all over this hospital,” I stated, yanking my phone.

I punched in some numbers and dialled.

“Steven, don’t tell Mum, but I’ve got a situation…” I quickly explained what was happening while the midwife and I glared at each other.

“I’m taking this baby,” she said after five minutes.

“I’ll not hold you fuckin’ hostage, but that kid is going nowhere,” I snapped.

“Is that a threat?”

“A damn promise.” The sound of running footsteps echoed off the walls, and the door flew open. A guy in a suit burst in, and I snatched the baby and turned to protect it.

“Is this the Ware child?” he asked, panting.

“Yes, and we need security. This man is refusing to let me take the child, and he has no legal rights,” the midwife replied.

“Mr Michaelson. I’ve spoken to your lawyer. Baby Ware will remain with you until Miss Ware gives orders otherwise, but he does need to be checked. Please, would you accompany Deirdre here?”

“He doesn’t leave my sight, and I’ll carry him,” I stated as Willow and Grey’s baby snuffled at me. Nobody was taking this kid. I would kill them first.

“That’s acceptable, but we can’t risk him being dropped. You’d have to use a wheelchair,” the guy said.

I snorted. As if I’d drop my best friend’s child. But I was reasonable. I could see their side.

“Fine.”

“Deirdre, Baby Ware is to be accompanied at all times by Mr Michaelson,” the man ordered.

“Okay,” Deirdre snapped. “For someone who’s not the father, you’re awfully concerned about this kid.”

“His dad was my best friend, a brother, and a damn hero. I owe Grey this to keep his child safe,” I replied.

Deirdre’s face softened. “That’s a nice sentiment.”

“It’s brotherhood.”

An hour later.

The baby had been fed, weighed, poked and prodded, and given back to me. And boy, did he have a set of lungs on him.

Now, the little fucker was sleeping in my arms after filling his belly. We were in Willow’s room where I’d found her bag with his stuff in. Baby wore a onesie Willow had packed and had a woollen hat on his head. He was also wrapped in a soft beige blanket.

Clearly Willow hadn’t discovered the sex of her baby as everything was neutral. I was trying to decide whether to call Axel when Willow was wheeled back in. She was hooked up to fluids and white as a ghost, but she was alert.

“Prognosis,” I demanded before anyone could speak.

“She lost a lot of blood, but we’ve stopped the bleeding, and she’ll be fine,” Dr Stratford explained.

I nodded and walked over to Willow. “What you calling him?” I asked.

Willow stared at the tiny sleeping face. “He has Grey’s nose and his ears,” she said wonderingly.

“Yeah, but that jawline’s all Ware,” I replied as I sat and wrapped Willow in a hug.

She glanced up, with tears running down her cheeks. “Danny Micah Axel Grey Ware.”

“Strong name for him,” I murmured, touched.

“He’s his daddy and grandpa,” Willow whispered, wiping tears away.

“Want me to call Axel?”

Willow nodded. “Only him, Ellen, and my brothers. No one else. Not the old ladies, nobody, Fanatic. Make it clear.”

“I will do, honey. Rest up now,” I soothed, taking baby Grey and placing him in the cot by Willow’s side.

“I’ll make the calls outside. Sleep, Willow, nobody will take him as I’ll be directly out there,” I reassured her.

Willow nodded and closed her eyes.

I walked into the corridor and stared at my phone. Axel would go berserk. But someone had to tell him. Taking a deep breath, I punched in his number and waited for the big guy to reply.

It took ten minutes to reassure Axel his girl was okay and safe, and that Baby Grey was doing well. Axel was taken aback when I informed him nobody else was to know.

I explained Willow was too fragile, and if her wishes were disobeyed, who knew what would happen? Axel agreed and said he was on his way. I’d already sent the plane back on my arrival, so by the time Axel got to the airport, he shouldn’t have to wait long.

Six hours later.

Boots stomped on the floor outside, and Willow and I swapped amused looks. Axel and her brothers had arrived. Before anyone else got through the door, Ellen appeared and, with a cry, rushed the bed and grabbed Willow in a tight hug. Axel was next through, followed by Cowboy and Wild. Neither of them had brought their old ladies, and nobody trailed behind.

Either Axel hadn’t told the rest of Rage, or they’d listened to Willow’s wishes.

Willow collapsed, sobbing in Axel’s arms as Ellen scurried around the bed and glared at me. Meekly, I handed over Baby Danny, and Ellen’s face softened.

“He looks like Grey and Axel, what a mix,” she whispered.

“Yeah. He’s a good weight, six pounds nine ounces. Considering the size of his father and grandfather, Willow got off lucky,” I replied.

“What’s his name?” Wild asked, popping his head over Ellen’s shoulder.

“Danny Micah Axel Grey Ware,” I said.

Wild looked up, and I saw the raw emotion in his eyes. He swallowed hard. “A good name. Strong.”

“Yeah.”

Rage still grieved. Grey’s death wasn’t going away soon, and Rapid City and its allies hadn’t settled. Plaques had been raised where allied dead had fallen, and in the centre of Rapid City stood a tall monument, a testimony to those who gave their lives. The fallout was still happening.

Major General Winslow and Colonel Jefferson had been cleared from their court-martial, and both had received promotions. Public opinion was firmly in their camp, and when you’ve got a billionaire who could provide a panel of lawyers, a court martial wasn’t worth the bad publicity. Not when the general public considered these two men heroes for disobeying orders and doing the right thing.

The truth was out. The President had refused to believe any threat from the Venomous Fangs, despite being given overwhelming evidence. He was under fire, and so was his administration. South Dakota was calling for Winslow to run as President. Lawyers had taken hundreds of hours of depositions and witness statements. The news footage had been taken from every reporter and put together as timelines and further evidence.

Emails, phone calls, appointments, everything was out in the open. There was no chance of a coverup. A special investigative team had been formed and was conducting the investigation to determine who charges should be brought against.

Yeah, with all that shit happening, Willow was best off out of it.