25. Jameson
TWENTY-FIVE
I wasn’t avoiding Penelope.
My wife.
I was simply careful not to be in the same room as her while she was awake.
We’d driven back yesterday, and she seemed to have dropped the issue by spending the trip back, staring out the window. That was after an entire extra day in the hotel. I made up an excuse that I had to head to another appointment then left her with a full day at the spa, on the bottom floor of the hotel. She spent the entire day getting pampered, with a new haircut, her toes were a fresh coat of dark purple, and her skin seemed to glow more than it usually did.
For dinner, we’d opted in for room service, while watching a few of her favorite movies. I might have cheated and rented them without her knowing and just had them queued up. She was texting Natty a ton regardless, and basically ignored me the entire time. But, fuck, what was I supposed to say to her?
She wasn’t wrong…I hadn’t fought for her. I let her go, and the only time I had tried to win her, Luke had already stepped in and I simply stepped back out. I just wanted more for her, and it terrified me to think that if I had stepped in, she’d just settle for a life in the club. Pen was stardust and fresh wildflowers; she was more than the club. More than men pissing in the corner of the room because they’re so drunk they don’t even realize they’re inside. She deserved more than men like Tuck Holloway telling her she had to earn her place in the club.
She deserved the entire fucking world, and I was never in a place to offer it to her.
But hearing the pain in her tone when she’d asked that question was gutting. She wasn’t just in pain over it. She was completely eviscerated by my lack of action in her life. I would have fought…I fucking would have.
I should have.
“Hey, look who’s back.” Brick waved as I walked into the house. The mood with my club seemed to shift significantly after the wedding, just as I had hoped it would.
The members had that fresh hope back in their eyes, they were eager for action.
“Talked to Waylen from back home while I was gone,” I said to the room, eyeing the ten or so members who were all lingering around.
“He says Luke is basically the bitch run around boy for Jefferson, and now Fable. He definitely thinks he’ll defect if we reach out. We’re going to be on our guard, starting with our own patrols. I don’t want those Death Raiders to catch us by surprise. I know I’ve extended trust to the Stone Riders, but it’s paper thin, and doesn’t exist with Silas or his crew. We do our own runs, and round the clock watch over our portion of territory that we have here.”
I knew Brick would help get the shifts sorted out as he was really gunning for the vice president position, so I walked away and let them figure out the rest of their plans. A few of my men stopped to ask me how Penelope was doing, and surprisingly how the baby was. It was the first time anyone had ever asked. I felt a tug of pride in my chest as I opened my mouth to respond, only to stop.
I didn’t know.
I hadn’t asked how she was feeling, or what the doctors had told her. Fuck, I barely knew she was having a boy but only because I’d heard it in passing. Mostly from insults hurled at her from my members. I didn’t know if the doctor was concerned at all, or if she had any restrictions. I didn’t know if Penelope had nausea or if she had heartburn…I had no idea if she was ready to have the baby in two—shit, was she due in a week?
Fuck.
Mumbling a generic response, I exited the house and got on my bike.
“You’re better at this than me.” Killian inspected his bike and the new exhaust I’d set up for him. Sitting into a low squat, he was eye level with the chrome, stroking a hand down the length of it.
“Fuck, King, you need to be on Wesley’s show.”
I peered over at Wes with a raised brow. “You’re still doing your tv show about restoration?” I’d heard about his big successful show that had launched on a growing network then was picked up by some bigger streaming service. He’d done five seasons from what I’d watched.
Wes lowered his phone. “I agreed to start filming again after our baby is born.” He kicked off the counter he was leaning against. “Speaking of babies…what’s your plan with your new bride? You sticking around to help with the baby, or you guys make other plans now that the ruse seemed to help ease the pressure off from your club?”
The earlier concern had found its way back into my chest, ruminating there. “Not sure…I—she doesn’t have anywhere else to go and I don’t like the idea of being away from her knowing Luke is still out there.”
“You think Luke would actually hurt her?” Killian asked, getting back to his feet.
I shrugged, reassessing the parts I still had laid out for another custom chrome job someone in the club had requested. “Not sure, but I’m not risking it.”
I didn’t miss how Wes glanced at Killian, giving each other a perceptive look.
“What?”
Killian dipped his chin. “Just feels like maybe your marriage isn’t so fake…”
Why did it feel like he’d shoved a hot steel poker into my chest?
“I’ve always had deeper feelings for her.”
Wes narrowed his eyes, like I was a puzzle he was trying to work out. “But you didn’t ever act on them?”
“I didn’t want the club for her…I didn’t want her to be tied to it. So, I just let her go, but then Luke…” I set a few pieces of the new exhaust on the table, adjusting them as I thought through my answer. “By the time I had pulled my head from my ass, he had stepped in.”
Wes moved again, this time he typed something on his phone then clapped me on the shoulder. “Well, she’s yours now. That’s all that really matters in the end, right?”
“Unless…well if raising Luke’s kid isn’t in your plans,” Killian added with a dip of his chin.
I didn’t know what to say…it wasn’t like these concerns hadn’t run through my mind before. If I chose to keep her, and then she wanted someone else…or wouldn’t forgive me for killing the father of her child. I suppose maybe some scenario, where he didn’t die, if he came clean and asked for forgiveness, she could even take him back.
I was so focused on my work, and in my head, I hadn’t realized Wes and Killian left.
I was alone working on the bikes again, just waiting to hear back from Penelope or Harris. I had left the club to find her, only to see a text from Harris that Penelope had gone into town, and he was on her tail. I decided to get some work done, and wait for her. Just then my phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Harris: Not to intrude in anything personal but Penelope received a phone call about half an hour ago, and she’s been visibly upset ever since.
My brows cinched in as I punched out a reply.
Me: Is she still on the phone, where is she?
Harris: She’s in her car, still in the parking lot of her doctor’s appointment.
She had an appointment today? I thought she said she’d tell me when she had them.
Me: I can be there in ten minutes.
Harris: She just hung up, looks like she’s leaving now. I’ll update you on where she’s going.
Me: Thank you, Harris.
I dropped my phone, worry stilting my movements. She was supposed to tell me when she had appointments, I thought that was our deal. Was she that angry at me that she’d go to another appointment alone?
Even with Harris, it could be dangerous.
Harris: She’s on her way back to the club.
Good. I’d meet her at the cabin and sort this shit out.