Chapter 22 #3
I hesitated, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, then decided to just say it. “She’s got a kid,” I said. “A daughter. Tatum.”
Vivi’s smile widened, genuine warmth lighting up her tear-stained face. “That’s wonderful. How old?”
“Six,” I said. “She’s—” I stopped, my throat tightening unexpectedly, the words catching. “She’s mine.”
Vivi blinked, her smile faltering as confusion crossed her features. “Yours?”
I nodded, my jaw clenching as I forced myself to continue. “Lina was pregnant when the massacre happened,” I said, each word feeling like I was pulling it from somewhere deep inside. “She thought I was dead. Ran to San Francisco and raised Tatum alone for years.”
Vivi stared at me, her eyes wide. “Monk,” she whispered. “That’s—” And then she broke. Her face crumpled, and she sank onto the couch, her hands covering her face as sobs tore through her.
I froze. “Vivi—”
“I’m pregnant,” she choked out, her voice muffled by her hands.
The words hit me like a freight train. “What?”
She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face. “I’m pregnant,” she repeated, her voice breaking. “With Pence’s baby. After all these years of trying, of hoping, of praying—I’m finally pregnant. And he’s dead.”
I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to process what she’d just told me. “Vivi—”
“I wanted this so badly,” she sobbed. “I wanted a baby so badly. And now I’m going to have one. But everyone’s going to know. Everyone’s going to know it’s his baby. The pedophile’s baby. The rapist’s baby.”
Her voice rose, hysteria creeping in at the edges. “They already stare at me,” she said. “Everywhere I go. The grocery store. The gas station. The bank. They stare and they whisper. ‘There’s the pedophile’s wife.’ ‘There’s the woman who didn’t know her husband was a sick twisted fucking monster.’”
She buried her face in her hands again, her shoulders shaking. “What’s it going to be like when I’m showing?” she whispered. “What’s it going to be like when I have the baby? What’s everyone going to think? What’s my child going to think when they’re old enough to understand?”
I crossed the room and sat down beside her on the couch. I didn’t say anything. I just wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against my chest. She collapsed into me, sobbing so hard her entire body shook.
I held her. Let her cry. Let her grieve for the life she’d thought she was going to have. After a long time, her sobs quieted. She pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t,” I said firmly. “Don’t apologize.”
She looked up at me, her eyes red and swollen.
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “I don’t know how to do this alone.”
I met her gaze, my voice steady. “You’re not alone,” I said.
She blinked.
“The clubhouse will always have your back,” I said. “You and your baby. You’ll always have a home with the Diamondbacks. Always.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “Monk—”
“I mean it,” I said. “Pence was one of us. And you were his wife. That makes you family. And we don’t abandon family.”
She stared at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I nodded, my chest tight. “Come on,” I said, standing and offering her my hand. “Let’s get your stuff packed. And then I’m walking you back to the clubhouse. You’re not staying here alone tonight.”
She took my hand and let me pull her to her feet. “Okay,” she said softly. And for the first time since she’d walked into the clubhouse, I saw a flicker of hope in her eyes.
We finished packing in silence.
Vivi moved through the apartment methodically, gathering clothes, toiletries, a few framed photos.
I carried the boxes down to her car, loading them into the trunk while she locked up the apartment one last time.
When we walked back across the street to the clubhouse, the sun was starting to set, casting long shadows across the compound.
Kansas was waiting for us in the gathering room.
He took one look at Vivi’s face and nodded.
“You’re staying here tonight,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
Vivi nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Thank you.”
Kansas glanced at me, and I saw the approval in his eyes.
The silent acknowledgment that I’d done the right thing.
I nodded back.
And as I watched Kali lead Vivi toward one of the guest rooms, I realized something.
Being VP wasn’t just about making hard calls in church. It wasn’t just about enforcing club rules or planning runs. It was about this. Taking care of the people who needed it. Standing by the ones who had nowhere else to go. Being the kind of man who didn’t turn his back when things got hard.
I spent seven years running from my past. Seven years convinced I was unworthy of love, of family, of anything good. But maybe I was figuring out what it meant to be the man I was supposed to be.
The man Lina deserved.
The father Tatum needed.
The man my club could count on.
I pulled out my phone and stared at the blank screen for a long moment.
Then I typed out a message to Lina and hit send before I could second-guess myself.