43. Rowan
43
ROWAN
Dawn breaks over Wolf Pike, pale light filtering through the smoke that still hangs in the air. I stand in what remains of Black Dog’s kitchen, surveying the damage. Bullet holes riddle the walls. Glass crunches under my boots. The counter where I’ve spent countless hours baking is splintered beyond repair.
But we’re alive. All of us.
After the warehouse, after my father was taken away in handcuffs, we brought Penny to Rose’s house where Emma was waiting. My sisters who barely knew each other fell into a tearful embrace that made my chest ache. I promised to return once everything was settled, once I’d checked on the diner.
Now, picking through the ruins of what became my sanctuary these past months, I wonder what “settled” even means. My father is gone, but the collateral damage of his vendetta surrounds me.
I run my hand over the grill where Ryder worked his magic, the surface still warm from the emergency shutdown during yesterday’s chaos. My fingers come away sooty, leaving smudges on my already filthy jeans.
So much destruction. So many lives nearly lost because of me. Because I ran here, because I stayed, because I fell in love with three men my father wanted dead.
My hand drifts to my stomach, a gesture that’s becoming instinctual. Inside me, cells multiply, dividing and growing into a tiny human who will inherit all of this complicated legacy. A child with Kane determination and Cypher survival instincts.
A baby who doesn’t know its father—not technically, anyway. One test could settle it, but what would be the point? This child belongs to all of them, just as I do.
I need to tell them. Today. Now that the danger has passed, now that we’ve survived my father’s wrath, they deserve to know.
The bell above the door jingles, a cheerful sound at odds with the destruction surrounding me. I turn to find all three brothers filling the doorway, silhouetted against the morning light. They look exhausted but whole, clothes still stained with yesterday’s battle.
“Thought we’d find you here,” Brick says, stepping over broken glass to reach me.
Maddox follows, whistling low as he surveys the damage. “Gonna need more than a fresh coat of paint this time.”
Ryder says nothing, but his eyes catalog everything—the bullet holes, the broken equipment, the blood staining the floor tiles. His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.
“Insurance should cover most of it,” I offer, trying for optimism. “And at least the structure’s sound.”
Brick’s hand finds the small of my back, warm and solid. “We’re not worried about the diner. We were worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” The lie comes automatically, but my hand betrays me, drifting to my stomach again.
Maddox notices, his eyes tracking the movement. “You don’t look fine. You look like you’re about to puke or pass out. Maybe both.”
“Charming as always,” I mutter, but there’s no heat in it. He’s right. The nausea that’s been my morning companion for weeks has returned with a vengeance, amplified by stress and adrenaline crash.
Ryder steps closer, his fingers tentatively brushing my cheek. It’s the gentlest he’s ever been, at least outside our bedroom. “You’ve been through hell,” he says quietly. “Let us take you home.”
“There’s something I need to tell you first,” I say, the words catching in my throat. “Something important.”
Brick’s expression turns serious, his hand stilling on my back. “Whatever it is, we can handle it.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” I take a deep breath, facing the three men who’ve somehow become my entire world. “I’m pregnant.”
Three pairs of eyes widen in perfect synchronization.
“How long?” Brick asks finally, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Two months, give or take.” I swallow hard. “I only confirmed it yesterday morning, right before my father called. I was ready to run off. I…I lied about my identity, about my past, about my family. I thought the three of you would never forgive me, but with the baby, I realized I couldn’t run anymore. I was ready to risk it all. I don’t know which one of you is biologically the father. It could be any of you. And I understand if that’s a problem, if you need time to process or if you want tests?—”
“Stop,” Brick interrupts, his hand moving from my back to cup my face. “It doesn’t matter.”
I blink, not sure I’ve heard correctly. “What?”
“It doesn’t matter which one of us is biologically the father,” he repeats, his voice firm. “This baby is ours. And we forgive you. We were hiding our secrets too. I’d have done the same thing if I were in your shoes. You’re such a strong woman, Leona Cypher.” He smiles. “I always knew there was something special about you.”
“There’s nothing special about being Cypher’s daughter.”
“Fair enough,” Maddox replies. “But you were being trained to be the next leader, and you can kick ass more than most men. Plus you bake the best brownies and you’re super supportive…”
“And the list goes on and on,” Ryder finishes. “You’re everything we’ve wanted and now, you’ve blessed us with a little one, growing in there.” He points to my stomach.
Tears I’ve been holding back all morning spill over, tracking through the dirt and soot on my cheeks. “You can’t just say things like that,” I manage, torn between laughing and sobbing. “You’re supposed to freak out. Have an existential crisis. Something. It’s a whole baby—completely out of the blue at that.”
Maddox grins, stepping closer to wipe away a tear with his thumb. “Sorry to disappoint you, princess, but we’re kind of past the freaking out stage. We survived your dad’s murder squad yesterday. A baby’s cake compared to that.”
“You’re both oversimplifying,” Ryder weighs in, serious as always. “A child changes everything.”
My heart sinks for a moment, until he continues.
“But some changes are worth making.” A rare smile softens his features. “This one definitely is.”
Yesterday’s violence, my father’s fall, the destruction surrounding us—none of it matters compared to this moment of perfect understanding.
Brick’s eyes never leave mine, even as he addresses his brothers. “We’re going to need a bigger house.”
“And a new diner,” Ryder adds, looking around at the destruction.
“And probably a shitload of baby books,” Maddox chimes in. “None of us knows the first thing about kids.”
“There’s more,” I say, remembering the two terrified girls waiting at Rose’s house. “Penny and Emma. They need a place too, at least until we figure out a more permanent situation.”
“They’re your sisters,” Brick says, as if that settles everything. “They’re family.”
“I love you,” I blurt out, the words I’ve never said before spilling from my lips. “All of you. So much.”