Chapter 21
BONNIE
The doctor arrives at ten in the morning, exactly when Ash said she would.
Dr. Wise parks her silver sedan next to the row of Harleys and doesn’t even flinch when three patched members immediately surround her car. She grabs her medical bag from the passenger seat and walks toward the clubhouse.
I watch from the window of Ash’s office. My stomach churns, but not from morning sickness this time. “She’s here,” I say.
Ash looks up from the paperwork spread across his desk. “You ready?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” He stands and crosses to me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. “The test is noninvasive. Quick and easy.”
“It’s not the test I’m worried about. It’s the answer.”
Ghost and Titan are already downstairs waiting. I heard their bikes pull in twenty minutes ago, followed by the low rumble of their voices discussing patrol schedules with some of the other brothers.
Everything feels too normal, like this is just another day.
Ash takes my hand and leads me downstairs. The common room goes quiet when we walk through. Brothers pretend not to stare, but I can feel their eyes tracking us across the room.
They all know the doctor is here. They just don’t know why yet.
We’ll tell them at the next church meeting after we have the results. After we know what we’re dealing with.
Dr. Wise waits in the meeting room, setting up her supplies on the long table where we hold church. Ghost and Titan stand near the door, arms crossed, watching her work.
She’s young—maybe early thirties—with dark blonde hair pulled into a sleek bun and sharp eyes that miss nothing. She looks up when we enter and offers a professional smile.
“Mrs. Torres,” she says, extending her hand. “I’m Dr. Wise. Your husband called me yesterday about running a paternity test.”
I shake her hand. Her grip is firm and cool. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course.” She glances at the three men standing around me. “I assume these are the other potential fathers?”
“Yeah,” Titan says before anyone else can answer. “That’s us.”
She doesn’t even blink. She just nods and starts pulling supplies from her bag.
“For prenatal paternity testing, I’ll need to draw blood from you, Mrs. Torres.
The baby’s DNA circulates in your bloodstream, which allows us to analyze it without any invasive procedures.
Then I’ll collect cheek swabs from each potential father for comparison. ”
I swallow. “You need to draw blood?”
“Yes. Just a standard blood draw, similar to what you’d get at any doctor’s office.” She arranges tubes and supplies on the table. “The lab will isolate fetal DNA from your blood sample and compare it against the DNA from the potential fathers. Results typically take seven to ten business days.”
“How accurate is it?” I ask.
“Ninety-nine point nine percent.” She preps the needle and tourniquet. “It’s the most reliable non-invasive method available.”
Ghost shifts beside me. “And it’s safe for the baby?”
“Completely. We’re only drawing blood from the mother—no risk to the pregnancy whatsoever. This test has been used safely for years.”
That seems to satisfy him. His shoulders relax slightly.
She has me sit down and roll up my sleeve. The tourniquet tightens around my upper arm. She swabs the inside of my elbow with alcohol. “Small pinch,” she warns.
The needle slides in, and I look away, watching the vial fill with dark red blood. One vial. Two. Three.
When she’s done, she presses gauze to the puncture site and tapes it down. “Keep pressure on that for a few minutes.”
Then she turns to the men. “Now for the cheek swabs. Who wants to go first?”
“I’ll go.” Ash steps forward without hesitation.
She has him open his mouth, runs the swab along the inside of his cheek for thirty seconds, then seals it in a sterile tube labeled with his name and a number.
Ghost goes next. Then Titan.
Dr. Wise packs the blood vials and swabs carefully into a cooler with ice packs. “I’ll send these to the lab today. You should have results within two weeks at the latest.”
“Thank you,” Ash says, pulling out an envelope from his pocket. Inside is more cash than most people see in a month. “For your discretion.”
She takes the envelope without counting it. “You have my word. This stays between us.”
She leaves the way she came.
The four of us stand in the meeting room after she’s gone, not quite looking at each other.
“That’s it then,” Titan says finally. “Now we wait.”
“Now we wait,” Ash echoes.
Ghost is quiet, his dark eyes fixed on me. I can see the wheels turning in his head.
“I need air,” I say, heading for the door.
“Bonnie—” Ash starts.
“I’m fine. I just need a minute.”
I walk out before any of them can argue. The common room is still full of brothers watching TV, playing pool, and nursing beers even though it’s barely noon. I weave through them toward the kitchen.
Maybe I’ll make tea. Or toast. Something normal to trick my brain into thinking this is a normal day.
The kitchen is empty when I push through the door. Thank God. I fill the kettle and set it on the stove, then lean against the counter and close my eyes.
I’ve got two weeks. Two weeks until I know if this baby belongs to Ash, Ghost, or Titan.
Or Marcus.
My stomach turns. I press my hand against my abdomen, willing the nausea away.
“Congratulations.”
I jump and spin around. Mona stands in the doorway, a smile plastered across her face that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Jesus, Mona. You scared me.”
“Sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry. She walks into the kitchen and leans against the counter across from me. “Heard the news. A baby. How exciting.” She walks into the kitchen and leans against the counter. “Must’ve been quite the announcement.”
“It was.”
“Everyone’s talking about it. The president’s wife, pregnant already.” Her smile sharpens. “You and Ash just got married, what, three weeks ago?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So the math is interesting.” She tilts her head. “You must’ve gotten pregnant right around the time you were supposed to marry Marcus Stone.”
I pour hot water over my tea bag, keeping my movements calm. “What’s your point, Mona?”
“No point. Just making conversation.” She examines her nails. “It’s just that everyone remembers you spent the night before your wedding at Marcus’s compound. In his bed.”
“And?”
“And now you’re pregnant.” She looks up at me. “Makes a girl wonder whose baby it really is.”
I set down the kettle and turn to face her fully. “Whose baby do you think it is?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
“It’s my husband’s baby. Who else would it be?”
“Well, Marcus seems to think—”
“Marcus can think whatever the fuck he wants.” I lean against the counter, mirroring her posture. “Doesn’t make it true.”
She studies me for a long moment. “You’re awfully defensive.”
“You’re awfully nosy.” I take a sip of my tea. “What’s the matter, Mona? Jealous?”
Her smile falters. “Jealous? Of what?”
“Of me being the president’s wife. Of me being pregnant. Of me mattering.” I set down my mug. “Must be hard watching from the sidelines after you spent years trying to climb your way up by spreading your legs for anyone with a patch.”
Her face flushes red. “Watch your mouth.”
“Or what? You’ll talk shit about me behind my back? Too late. You’re already doing that.” I cross my arms. “Here’s what I know, Mona. You’ve fucked half this club, hoping one of them would make you their old lady. None of them did. And now you’re pissed because I am what you’ll never be—important.”
“You’re a child playing dress-up in a world you don’t understand.”
“And you’re a thirty-year-old club rat still chasing men half your age.” I smile. “At least I got the ring. What do you have? Besides a reputation and a lot of regrets?”
Mona’s hands curl into fists. “You little bitch.”
“That the best you got?” I pick up my mug. “I’ve been called worse by better people. Now, if you’re done interrogating me about my pregnancy, I have things to do.”
I walk past her toward the door.
Just as I’m about to leave, I hear her mutter under her breath, “Stupid slut.”
I stop. Turn around.
Mona’s already facing away, acting like she didn’t say anything.
I could call her on it. Could drag her back and make her repeat it to my face. But I don’t. Because letting it go pisses her off more than any comeback I could throw at her.
I walk out with my head high, leaving her standing there in the kitchen.
Seething.
I should tell Ash. Or Ghost. Or Titan. Someone needs to know that Mona’s running her mouth, spreading poison about me and the baby.
But what would I even say? She asked some questions about the timeline and made a few snide comments? Called me a name under her breath? It sounds petty when I put it like that. Childish.
And she’s not wrong about the timeline. I was with Marcus the night before the wedding. The math does make it look suspicious to anyone who doesn’t know the whole story.
Anyone who doesn’t know that Marcus pulled out. That the real conception happened at the cabin with Ash, Ghost, and Titan.
But I can’t explain that without revealing everything.
This is my life now. Being questioned by bitter club girls. Waiting for paternity test results. Wondering if the baby growing inside me belongs to a monster.
I press my hand to my stomach again. “It’s going to be okay,” I whisper to the tiny life inside me. “Whatever happens, we’re going to be okay.”
I want to believe it. Need to believe it.
But Mona’s words echo in my head, poisoning every thought.
Whose baby it really is.
What if she starts spreading rumors? What if other people start doing the same math she did? What if the whole club starts questioning whether Ash is really the father?
What if they’re right?
I head for the stairs before the panic attack fully sets in.
I need to lie down.
Halfway up the stairs, I run into Ghost coming down. He takes one look at my face and stops. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You’re pale and shaking.” He grips my arm gently. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
He studies me with those dark eyes that see too much. “Did someone say something to you?”
“No.”
“Bonnie.”
“I said no.” I pull away from his grip. “I just need to rest. Please.”
He lets me go, but I can feel him watching as I climb the rest of the stairs.
I make it to my old room and lock the door behind me. Then I sink onto the bed, close my eyes, and try to sleep.