she was in. And that wasn’t right now. Right now, I was still wondering whether I was going to wake up one morning and she was going to be gone.
It was her constant need to have everyone at an arm’s length because life up to this point had proven to her that letting people in eventually meant watching them walk away. And in her mind, the fewer feelings she had for them, the more likely she would be able to survive seeing them go.
It made me want to kill someone, to destroy every fucking person in her past who made her feel like she wasn’t worthy.
Was it a wonder she had become the way she was?
Constantly swinging first, asking questions later.
Throwing herself into situations without thinking about the consequences or the outcome or giving a damn about keeping herself safe. She wasn’t exactly cutting her wrists or walking in front of trains, but she was reckless with her life because she’d spent most of it being made to feel like she wasn’t worthy of having one.
I’d change that.
Slowly but surely.
“Hey, Shotgun,” Auron announced, sticking his head into the garage. “There’s a car here, and it’s being flagged by a couple of cops.”
“Goddammit,” I cursed, grabbing a rag from the benchtop and wiping at my hands as I stepped outside. I looked over, meeting Myth’s confused gaze with a shrug as the rest of the club joined us like a strong fucking family show right out the front.
The cops hung back close to the gates while a tiny Toyota cruised forward to where I was standing, pulling up a few feet away.
There were whispers and murmurs from behind me, anyone who was inside the clubhouse at the time strolling out into the parking lot. My brothers moved close to me, the group of us looking to one another to see if anyone even had a guess at what the fuck was going on.
The car’s driver got out, tugging at her rich blue blazer as she stepped out from behind her car door. “We’re looking for Marcus Hall?”
My lip curled unconsciously at the sound of my real name. One I’d been glad to be rid of the moment I got patched and was given my road name.
I edged forward. “That would be me.”
The woman’s nervous eyes scanned the crowd that stood behind me. “Is there somewhere we could sit and talk?”
“You can talk right here and tell me what the hell is going on,” I stated, just wanting her to hurry up and get the hell on with what she had to say. It didn’t worry me who fucking heard it. I had no secrets from the club, nothing to fucking hide.
She shrugged. “My name is Cara Wellington,” she announced, the second lady passing her some files before walking back to the car. She handed me some paperwork. “This is Miss Emma Drake’s last will and testament. In it, you’ll fi—”
“Emma died?” I croaked, feeling my body pull back just slightly with the weight of those words. My brothers circled me, stepping in around me, offering me their energy and their support.
I’d only just fucking seen her.
I’d just spoken to her.
She was alive and fucking breathing.
Cara started talking again, but it took me a moment to actually get my brain to process the words.
“And I need you to hear me. Miss Emma Drake’s last will and testament…”
God, I wish she would stop fucking saying that.
“… specified precisely that if anything were to happen to her, this was what was to happen. Right now, this is a temporary ruling from a judge. There will have to be appearances in court, and I imagine her husband may try to challenge this.”
Another blow to the chest, though I took it, breathing through the fucking shock with my fists clenched at my sides.
Though that all became irrelevant when the second woman pulled a car seat from the back of the car, and it suddenly felt like gravity ceased to exist.
My entire body going numb.
“The hell is that?” I muttered through this heavy weight in my gut that seemed to be the only thing holding me to the fucking earth.
“That… is your son.”
SHOTGUN
Avery stepped forward while the rest of us stood stunned.
The lady put the tiny baby carrier onto the gravel, and I watched Avery crouch down in front of it, her fingers tugging at the tiny blanket that was resting over him.
It’s fucking hot.
Why does he have a blanket on him?
Someone needs to take that off.
A