Chapter 10
TEN
GHOST
Ivy & Piper’s Guide to Life Rule Number Twelve:
There are always strings attached.
“ H oly fuck,” I whispered, the room spinning around me. The nurse continued to ask a series of questions about Avery’s medical history and allergies, but my heart thundered against my ribcage so loudly it drowned out every other sound.
The heel of my boot connected with a stool, sending it crashing into the wall with a loud clatter that set Avery off again.
“Dane, wait…” Piper’s voice broke as I staggered toward the door, her hand reaching for mine.
But I didn’t stick around to hear the rest. I couldn’t. The walls were suddenly too close, the floor beneath me giving way as the magnitude of the situation sank in.
My vision blurred as I stumbled out of the room and I had to stop and brace myself against the sterile white corridor wall for a few long seconds to catch my breath.
The maze of hallways we’d stormed through earlier now felt like an endless void where time didn’t exist. I moved in a daze, the security cameras overhead glaring down at me from every angle .
Daring me to cause a scene.
My hands were shaking—fuck, my whole body was shaking—but I couldn’t stop moving. Not yet. My legs carried me forward on autopilot, past the rows of people slumped over in waiting room chairs, past sick and crying children held tight against their parents’ chests.
I barely noticed as I strode through the automatic doors and into the fresh air, my chest heaving like I’d run a marathon.
February 17, 2024.
The date had detonated like a bomb, turning my mind into a goddamned war zone.
Blood roared in my ears as memories of our night together came flooding back—the way Piper’s body felt wrapped around me bare, falling asleep inside her despite knowing the risks. Yet when she told me she had a daughter, I hadn’t even considered the possibility.
But now, there wasn’t a goddamned doubt in my mind.
Avery was mine.
She might have had Piper’s eyes, but those red curls were identical to my mother’s.
I slammed my fist into a concrete pillar with a low growl, not caring who saw or heard me. My knuckles split open on impact, but it wasn’t enough to bleed away the rage coursing through my veins.
“Fuck!” I roared, pinching the bridge of my nose to keep the tears at bay.
A couple of people in scrubs walked by, giving me a wide berth and wary looks as they passed.
Yeah, I imagined I looked like hell. But I felt even worse.
Aware it was only a matter of time before someone called security on the unhinged biker, I moved away from the entrance. My boots scraped against the asphalt, each step heavy and clumsy, but I didn’t stop until I reached the parking lot.
The ache in my chest became unbearable, and I dropped to my knees beside Piper’s SUV. My breath left my body in shallow, rapid bursts, and I locked my hands behind my neck, leaning forward as if I could fold myself into something small enough to contain this pain.
All the pieces were clicking together now—the way Piper had stumbled over her words when we first reconnected, her skittish deflection every time I brought up our night together, the shadow in her eyes when she talked about complications.
It wasn’t another man.
It was me.
I was the complication.
Why hadn’t she told me?
Had she thought I wouldn’t fucking care—that I wouldn’t want to know my own kid? Or had she, like her mother, assumed because I was a biker, I wasn’t good enough? Some deadbeat who wouldn’t stick around once I knew the truth.
White-hot rage coursed through my veins. I threw my head back and stared up at the endless expanse of pale blue sky. The tears I’d been holding back fell rapidly at the thought of my little girl growing up believing her father never wanted her.
Anger clawed its way to the surface again. I was angry at Piper for keeping the truth from me. Angry at myself for not finding her sooner. Angry at the entire fucked up situation.
The urge to punch something again was overwhelming. I clenched my fists, feeling my bruised knuckles protest. But beneath the anger was a bone-deep fear that threatened to consume me.
I sat with my back against the passenger door of Piper’s SUV, trying to get my shit together. The parking lot was quiet, save for the sound of sirens in the distance and the occasional car pulling in or out. I couldn’t face going back inside yet.
Not in the state I was in.
I pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering over Wolverine’s contact. If anyone could talk me down from this ledge, it was my old man. But I couldn’t bring myself to make the call, not with two years of silence standing between us.
Seconds later, my brother Teddy’s name flashed across the screen. If it had been the first time, I might have been spooked by his timing, but he’d been calling several times a day for months now. We hadn’t spoken since Levi’s visitation, and as the night had ended with me on my back in the funeral home parking lot and blood streaming down my face, I wasn’t eager for a repeat.
Instead of answering, I scrolled through my camera roll until I found an old picture of Levi, taken when he wasn’t much older than Avery. His tiny-toothed grin stared back at me, reminding me I hadn’t been there when he needed me most.
The fear returned, coiling around my chest until I could barely breathe. I hadn’t been there for Avery’s first breath or her first smile. I was a year late to my own daughter’s life. An entire years’ worth of moments, gone in the blink of an eye.
Time I would never get back.
What if I fucked up everything else too?
Part of me wanted to go back to the hotel and hop on my bike, riding until the roar of the engine drowned out the chaos in my head. Wasn’t it what I’d been doing for the past two years—running from everything?
I let my head fall back against the door with a thud, thinking about my own father. Wolverine wasn’t only the founder of the most powerful club in the state and the toughest son of a bitch alive, but he was a pretty kick-ass dad too. He’d not only taught us how to fight but how to know what was worth fighting for.
My old man sure as shit wouldn’t have been sitting alone in a parking lot feeling sorry for himself when his family needed him.
Fuck.
My family.
The words felt foreign—like they belonged to someone else. Someone better. Someone who deserved them.
I hauled myself to my feet, swiping the moisture from my face with a shaking hand.
Instead of heading back to the emergency room, I wandered over to the gift shop in the main building. I passed colorful balloons floating above elaborate floral arrangements, greeting cards for every occasion, and enough snacks to feed the entire club.
My eyes landed on a stuffed animal display along the back wall, and I grinned, remembering how my old man would show up with a stuffed animal for me and my brothers after being gone on long runs with the club. When we were teens and well past the age of playing with toys, it was keychains or shot glasses from whatever city he’d been in.
A stuffed animal wouldn’t give me back the time I’d lost or erase the sleepless nights Piper had to endure on her own .
But maybe it wasn’t about that.
Maybe, much like my dad’s gifts, it was my way of letting Piper know I hadn’t gone a single day without thinking of her. I picked up a small teddy bear wearing a get well soon T-shirt, its soft pink fur a stark contrast to the mess of a man holding it.
Taking a deep breath, I strode toward the register, ignoring a wary glance from an elderly woman in the greeting card section. The cashier’s eyes widened as I approached, her gaze darting from my kutte to the blood streaked across my knuckles.
“Just this,” I said, setting the bear down with more force than was necessary.
Her movements were jerky and nervous as she rang me up, and I bit back a sigh because it wasn’t her fault I looked like the devil incarnate.
“It’s for my daughter,” I added, handing her a twenty. The words still felt strange on my tongue, foreign yet undeniably right.
“Aww,” she said, her expression softening. “I hope she feels better soon.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak again.
The lump in my throat threatened to choke me as I made my way back to the emergency room. I paused after entering through the automatic doors, taking a deep breath to steady myself.
Chaos swirled around me, but all I could focus on was the weight of the stuffed animal clenched in my fist as I navigated the winding hallways stretched out like a gauntlet before me.
As I approached Avery’s room, I heard Piper’s soft voice drifting through the partially open door. She was singing a Reba McEntire song like it was a lullaby, her tone gentle and soothing.
“Mama’s here,” she said when Avery let out a soft whimper.
The words twisted through my gut like a knife. Then and there, I decided no matter what it took, I would prove to Piper I could be the father Avery needed. I would be the man she needed. I’d take things slow and earn her trust until there wasn’t a doubt in her mind I was in it for the long haul.