I turned around. Mae had the journal back in her hand. She came closer, a nervous look on her fucking gorgeous face.
“She had a baby in this outlaw life.” Mae ducked her head. “She had a baby boy with the president of the Hangmen.”
Something tugged in my chest at the shake in Mae’s voice. I pulled her closer to me and waited for her to look up. “I-I’m n-nothing like my old man.” I believed it. I fucking did. But I knew it wasn’t entirely true. Fuck, I killed whoever got in my way, and felt fuck-all emotion over it. I ran this club with an iron fist, and I had no problem killing anyone who turned against it. But I had Mae. And my asswipe of a father never gave a shit about anyone but himself. Hell, he shot my mother one minute, and the next slapped me on the back and went to the bar so he could sink his dick into the slut he’d told to wait there for him while he did so.
Taking Mae’s cheeks in my hand, I stared into her eyes. She looked fucking scared. Mae tried to dip her head, but I didn’t let her. “Wh-what?”
Mae released a deep breath. “She had you in the middle of a war.” My fucking stomach fell as Mae’s eyes filled with tears. “She had the same fears I do.” Her shoulders sagged, then whispered, “Of losing you. Of being killed herself, being a target . . .” She held her stomach, lip trembling. “Of them coming for Charon . . . of us losing each other. Of not having the life we’ve dreamed of for so long.” Mae swallowed. Her face had gone white. She was fucking shaking. It fucking cut me in half to see her this way. “I just feel . . . I just feel that since we found each other again, there has been so much happening. Helping my sisters find freedom, the threats to the club, and now this war.” Mae’s breathing hitched, and she rubbed her stomach, where she kept our son safe. “Now that we have Charon, I feel fear so much more strongly now. We have more to lose. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to him . . . to any of us.”
Untapped rage rushed forward as I thought of anything like that happening. “N-no one will touch you. Either of you. I-I’ll f-fucking k-kill t-them if th-they t-try t-to, I—”
I cut my words off when my stutter became so bad that I couldn’t fucking speak. How the fuck could I assure Mae that nothing would happen to her when I couldn’t even speak?
“Shh.” Mae put her hand on my cheek. “I love you, River Nash. But more than that, I trust you. I know you would never let anyone hurt us. You’re a good husband. You’re a fierce president . . . but more importantly, you’ll be an excellent father.”
Out of everything Mae said, that was the one thing that hit me. Because the truth was, I was like my father—Shade “The Reaper” Nash. I was like him in so many ways . . . and he was a shitty dad. What the fuck did I have to offer a kid? What—
“You are not him, and you are too good to treat your son as he did you.” I stared at the fucking conviction in Mae’s eyes and let go of some of the poison in my veins. But a trace always remained. Because neither of my parents had given two shits about me. I was about to be a dad, and the only references I had were a prick who beat me and a slut who left me with a man she fucking despised. What the hell did that say about her? About either of them?
“I never knew I could love anyone the way I love him. I didn’t believe it was possible. Dark brown hair, chubby cheeks, and perfect lips. Right now he has dark blue eyes that I could stare into for days, but I know that color can change.” I turned my head, confused as to what Mae was talking about. Then I realized. She was reading aloud from the journal. My heart kicked into a sprint. These were my mother’s words . . .
“I never want to let him go. I keep the door to Shade’s room in the club locked so that nothing bad can ever come near