Page 8 of Skye
“Send her back to her father,” Brewer says, shifting his shoulders.
The growl that erupts from me is unexpected. “Ain’t happenin’.”
“Just say she isn’t working with the Pioneers and Richardson finds out we have her. He’s gonna come for his daughter,” he fires back, hackles raised as he gets defensive.
“I don’t care. Ain’t givin’ her back to her father. She ran from him, and I don’t have the details yet but the fact she did is enough for me. Ain’t putting my kid in a dangerous situation where I got no control.”
Everyone starts to speak, talking over each other, deciding what to do with the woman carrying my child. I try to find calm, but this is my life, my… family.
And that feels weird to say, but no matter what transpires here, Skye is connected to me forever if she has this kid.
“Quiet!” Howler shouts to be heard over the noise, and everyone silences. “You think she’s in trouble?” This question is directed at me.
“From what she’s said, yeah. She’s got marks on her face, on her wrists. Her car is damaged too. I believe her when she says she needs my help, and maybe I’m stupid for taking that chance, but you grow up the way I did, you learn to read people. I can see through the liars and the cheats. She ain’t either of those and she ain’t faking her fear.”
“Okay. We keep her here for now. She’s to be under guard anytime she leaves the room, and she ain’t to leave the clubhouse without an escort. I’ll put out some feelers, see if anyone’s talking about her being missing. No one is to touch her while she’s here. And Rage?”
I meet his gaze. “Yeah?”
“You get close to her. You see if she’s playin’ us and find out what the fuck she knows.”
It’s no less than I would expect, so I nod before Howler brings down the gavel. Everyone stands at the same time, pushing their chairs back. I don’t move for a moment, my head swimming.
“I’m loyal to the patch,” I say, making my brothers stop to listen. “Being part of this club is all I’ve ever wanted, and I’ve fought and clawed my way to earn this kutte. I know I came here under a cloud, but I’m trying everything I can to prove to you all that I’m worthy to be a Son. I know I brought this shit to us, but I didn’t know who she was, and if I had, I’d never have touched her. I can’t change what’s happened. I wish I could, but… I won’t apologise either. That kid… this ain’t how I imagined building a family, but I created this mess and I’m gonna do what I can to be a good father. That said, if she’s playing us, once my child is born, I’ll kill her myself.”
“No one doubts you, kid,” Hawk says, and I feel some of the bands wrapped around my ribs begin to loosen.
I push up and follow the others out the room. Hawk lingers behind, waiting until the rest have left. I’m not sure what he’s going to say to me, and that makes me edgy. I respect the fuck out of Hawk. I’ve never wanted anyone’s approval before, but I find myself wanting his respect more than I care to admit.
“When you fuck up, you really go all out,” he murmurs.
“Didn’t know who she was,” I protest, even though he knows this.
“You want to raise the kid?”
“I didn’t have the best start in life, Hawk. I don’t want to repeat that.”
He nods, his hands dropping to his hips. “I understand that. You know what you’re getting yourself into? Kids are demanding, hard work. You can’t just walk away when it gets too much.”
I snort, irritation making the sound harsh. “I fucked up and I made a mistake, but yeah, I’m in this.”
This seems to please him. “Okay then.”
He squeezes my shoulder before walking away. I don’t know how to take his response, but he didn’t punch me, so I guess that’s an improvement on how these talks with Hawk usually go.
I’m not sure I’m ready to face Skye yet, but I need to find out exactly what is going on with her. And this time, I can’t run away.
CHAPTER3
SKYE
Istare at the locked door. Yet again, I’m a prisoner, and I want to tear my hair out. I left one cell for another, only this one is far more dangerous. These people have a reason to hurt me. The things Rage told me that my father has done sit in my veins like ice. I don’t want to believe he is capable of committing such evils acts, but I know in my heart he absolutely is. Desmond Richardson, even as a father, has never been a soft man. There has always been a part of me that is afraid of him. Growing up, I knew exactly when to push him and when to retreat, though I still tested those boundaries from time to time.
The bloodshed seems so pointless when this is the outcome. A motherless child and a dead teenager are added to the list of bodies piled up because of this war. Too many casualties have already been created on both sides.
I try not to think about that woman dying before she got to know her baby, but it sticks to my brain like molasses. How could my father sanction the death of a pregnant woman? He knows how hard I fought to come back after Mum died. To take someone so vulnerable and kill her is unconscionable.
My stomach churns, making a wave of queasiness wash through me. I can’t imagine not meeting my child, though considering my predicament, it might become my reality. I touch my belly, something I’m finding myself doing more and more since I discovered my pregnancy. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel connected to my baby.