38. Rowan
38
ROWAN
I trace patterns on his chest, not wanting to break the peace we’ve found but knowing we can’t hide from reality forever. “Will you tell me now? What happened today that’s got you so fucked up?”
He sighs, the sound dragged from somewhere deep.
“There are things about us—about me and my brothers—that you don’t know,” he begins. “Things we did during the five years we were away from Wolf Pike.”
I prop myself up on one elbow, looking down at him. “I’ve been living with you for weeks. Sharing your bed, your life. Nothing you tell me will change that.”
He takes a deep breath. “We worked for an organization called Cerberus. Black ops, off the books. The kind of missions no one acknowledges.”
The name sends an unexpected chill down my spine.
“We infiltrated criminal networks,” he continues. “Taking down traffickers, drug cartels, the worst kind of predators. Our last mission before we left was dismantling a cocaine distribution network run by the Vipers MC. We cost them millions, took out several key players.”
My entire body goes cold, blood freezing in my veins. Vipers MC. My father’s club. The organization I was born into and raised to eventually lead.
“The Vipers?” I manage, my voice surprisingly steady.
Brick nods, oblivious to my reaction. “One of the most dangerous MCs on the West Coast. Their president, Cypher, he’s a special kind of monster.”
The world seems to tilt beneath me. Cypher. My father’s chosen name. The name that inspired fear in everyone from rival gangs to law enforcement. The name I grew up both loving and fearing.
“Today at the meeting,” Brick continues, “we found out Cypher’s put a bounty on our heads. Two million each. He thinks we’re still working for Cerberus and still targeting his operation. The truth is, we walked away years ago, but Cerberus is still after him. They’re using us as bait.”
He keeps talking, but his words become distant, muffled as if he’s speaking underwater. My father is hunting the men I love. The men I love hunted my father. It’s a nightmare so absurd I want to laugh, but the sound would probably come out as a scream.
“There’s more,” Brick says, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. “Intelligence suggests Cypher is looking for more than just us. Apparently, he wants something else in Wolf Pike—something valuable to him. Or someone.”
I stop breathing.
“Someone valuable?” I echo, the words barely audible. It’s me. He’s talking about me. My father knows I’m here.
“Yeah. Cerberus wasn’t clear on the details.” His expression darkens. “Whoever it is, I feel for them. Can’t imagine being on the run from someone like that.”
The irony is so bitter I can taste it.
“Anyway,” he sighs, “Cypher’s coming to Wolf Pike. Soon. To hunt us, to find someone, to make examples of us all. Cerberus is tracking him, but they’re always a step behind.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice level.
“Teller’s arranged extra security. Cerberus claims they’re closing in on his location.” His jaw tightens. “But if he comes anywhere near this town, I’ll kill him myself.”
The conviction in his voice sends a shiver through me. This man I love is willing to kill my father to protect me. And my father would certainly kill him if he knew I was here, with them.
“Let’s get some sleep,” I suggest, unable to process anything more. “We can figure it out in the morning.”
He nods, pulling the covers over us both. Within minutes, his breathing deepens as exhaustion claims him. I lie awake beside him, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing through impossible scenarios.
It’s morning, and I barely slept last night. My stomach is churning with anxiety and something else—a nausea that’s become familiar these past few days.
“You don’t look so good,” Maddox observes over breakfast, his hand warm against my forehead. “You feeling okay?”
“Just tired,” I lie, pushing away the plate of eggs I can’t stomach. “I think I might be coming down with something.”
“Then you’re staying home today,” Brick decides, his tone brooking no argument. “Rest. Take care of yourself. We can handle the diner.”
I don’t protest, though not for the reasons they think. I need time alone. Time to think, to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do now that I know they’re hunting my father, and he’s hunting them.
“Call if you need anything,” Ryder says, pressing a kiss to my temple before following his brothers out the door.
As soon as their vehicles disappear down the driveway, the nausea intensifies. I barely make it to the bathroom before emptying what little I’ve eaten into the toilet.
This is the third morning in a row. The third morning of sickness, of fatigue, of tender breasts and heightened emotions.
Fear grips me as I sink to the bathroom floor, counting backward. Two months. It’s been almost two months since I moved in with the brothers and two months since my last period.
“Fuck,” I whisper, though deep down, I already know. My body has always been predictable until now.
I drag myself to my feet, rifling through the cabinet under the sink where I keep my personal items. In the back, behind tampons I haven’t needed, is a pregnancy test still in its packaging.
It was a free sample from the drugstore when I bought cold medicine last month. The elderly cashier had smiled knowingly when she slipped it into my bag. “On the house, dear,” she’d said with a wink. “Living with three handsome men, you might need it sooner than later.”
I was too embarrassed to protest, shoving it into the cabinet when I got home and promptly forgetting about it.
With shaking hands, I tear open the package, following the instructions mechanically. Three minutes. The longest three minutes of my life.
When I finally look, the result is unmistakable. Positive.
I’m pregnant.
The room seems to tilt as I slide down the wall to the floor, the test clutched in my hand. A baby. Our baby. Mine and…fuck, I don’t even know which one of them is the father.
I press my hand to my still-flat stomach, a surge of protectiveness washing over me. This changes everything. This tiny, unformed life now depends on me, on the choices I make.
As if on cue, my burner phone rings from the bedroom. Emma’s new number flashes on the screen.
“Emma?” I answer breathlessly.
There’s a pause, then a chuckle that turns my blood to ice.
“Hello, princess.”
My father’s voice.
“How did you?—”
“Get your sister’s phone?” he finishes. “Emma’s temporarily…indisposed. She should be more careful who she trusts at that fancy school of hers anyway, and we’re far from her school and much closer to you now.”