tip the scale and release a flood of feelings—feelings I’ve been busy trying to deny.
I expected him to run, to take the easy way out, to bail. But here he is, standing here, wanting to name our child and planning trips to take him to theme parks.
He seems no longer doubtful or hesitant. Can I trust that?
He turns me into his arms, my face to his cut, and holds me as my tears flow. He murmurs soft words of regret and promises of better times and rock-solid positivity that everything will work out. Together they soothe me more than anything else ever has in my life.
I tip my chin to meet his stark blue eyes. “What do you want, Gypsy?”
“You. Both of you, Tess. I’ve been feeling empty inside, and it’s clear to me what’s missing. What I’m trying to say is I want you in my life. I want you both in my life. I know you’re independent. I know you can take care of yourself. I know you don’t need me, but baby, I need you.”
“But the club…”
“Don’t worry. We’ll handle it. You and me, we’ve had something from the very first moment I laid eyes on you, strutting across that bar to ask me for a drink. Neither one of us can deny that fact. I’m tryin’ to tell you that I love you, Tess, and I’m in this for the long haul.” He bumps my nose with his and smiles. “That what you wanted to hear?”
I nod and throw my arms around his neck, grabbing on tight to the dream I was so afraid to believe in.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Gypsy—
After weeks of planning and waiting and biding our time, it’s finally the day we’re supposed to pull out for Sturgis. If all goes as planned, this shit will go our way.
“Never fear, the dream team is here,” Peanut says. He’s the president of our support club, the Murder Mob MC. They’re lined up with our bikes, dressed in our cuts, their faces covered with neck wraps and sunglasses.
“They look pretty close,” Jammer says, arms folded, rocking back on his heels.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that was us.” I grin over at him as we watch.
Rusty and Reno approach.
“You boys ready?” Rusty asks.
We nod. “You know it boss,” I say.
“Listen up,” he calls everyone around. “When they pull out, we lay in wait for the Demons to make their move and take them out. Then we hit their clubhouse. We don’t leave anyone to tell the tale, got that?”
Everyone nods.
Rusty looks at Reno. “You get the women somewhere safe?”
“Yup. All locked down.”
“How’s Kara? She hangin’ in there?”
“Baby’s due next week. Hopefully she makes it that long.”
Rusty nods, whistles sharply, and swings his hand over his head like a lasso. “Head ‘em out.”
The Murder Mob all fire up their bikes and pull out in a long line, two by two. A prospect closes the gate behind them, and we all return inside to take up our places. We’ve got a scout up in a window of a building on the corner of the street that leads in. We’ll get a two-minute heads up if they come that way. If they hit us from the back of the warehouse, we’ve got a guy posted on the other side of the tracks, but that cuts our warning down to less than a minute. Either way, we’re ready and waiting.
I pull my piece and check my clip.
“Remember,” Rusty calls out, “we wait until they’re in the building to take them down.”
“This should be cake,” someone whispers a little too confidently.
“Don’t get cocky,” Rusty snaps in the direction of the comment. “That goes for all of you. This’ll be a fight to the death. Hopefully we get the drop on ‘em and things all go our way. Quiet down now. The wait begins.”
An hour goes by, and everyone’s nerves are on edge. Reno finally gets a call from a prospect he’s got posted near the Devil Demon’s clubhouse. He listens to the report, and then calls out to everyone. “They just pulled out in a van and two sedans. They’re heavily armed. Be ready.”
I pick up the sawed-off shotgun on the concrete floor next to me where I sit with Jammer hidden behind the bar.
Rusty tells Reno, “Call the prospect inside.”
“On it.”
A moment later, the kid abandons the gate and jogs in. We close the doors and wait.
With nothing to do in the oddly quiet warehouse that is our clubhouse, my mind