I found an apartment in town. It’s a little two-bedroom place. It isn’t fancy, but it’s spacious and cheap. Dad went over before I even arrived and fixed all the windows and doors, making sure it was safe. Mom nagged him, asking why he was suddenly so paranoid when he apparently put a cover on an electrical outlet. God. He’s going to drive me crazy. I just know it.

  I went to the doctor before I left Denver and got some morning-sickness tablets. They’ve helped, and I’ve been able to keep food down long enough to gain some nutrients from it. Today I even kept a piece of toast down without throwing it back up. I started all my pregnancy vitamins, but the truth of the matter is reality hasn’t kicked in yet. It still feels like a bad dream.

  Every time telling Danny about the pregnancy pops into my mind, I push it out. It’s a poor attempt at ignoring it. Maybe it’ll go away if I just pretend it isn’t there. Guilt floods my chest every hour of every day, because I know Danny has a right to know, but the idea of upsetting his life after all I’ve already done just isn’t fair. I don’t want to ruin his happiness again. Letting them all believe it’s Preston’s baby is the best thing.

  Right?

  “Welcome home!”

  I jerk at the sound of Max’s voice and spin, grinning hugely when I see him running up my front path, his red hair flicking in the breeze. God, I’ve missed my family. I throw myself into his arms and he takes me effortlessly, twirling my body around. I laugh and hold him tight, so damned glad to have him close.

  “Gosh I missed you,” I say when he puts me down. “Did you get taller or . . .?”

  He snorts. “No, you just got shorter.”

  I grin. “I hope not. I’ll be five foot nothing if that’s the case.”

  “So, you’re back. How do you feel?”

  I look up at my new apartment. “Relieved. Scared. Hopeful.”

  “Danny know you’re back?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, but it isn’t why I’m here.”

  “I’ve met his girlfriend.”

  I flinch but keep my smile. “That’s good.”

  “She’s nice.”

  Pain explodes in my chest. “I’m happy for him.”

  “God, you’re such a dirty dirty liar!” he chastises, throwing an arm around my shoulder.

  “He deserves to be happy, Max.”

  “Yeah, and that happiness should come from you. He loves you, Skye. You two are destined to be together. Why are you fighting this?”

  Because I’ve made him suffer enough.

  Because I wasn’t there when he needed me.

  Because I told him his life wasn’t what I wanted.

  Because he smiled, and he looked happy.

  Because he deserves so much more than me.

  “Just because,” I mutter. “Now, do you want to see my place or are we going to talk about Danny for the rest of the afternoon?”

  His face quickly falls before he recovers with a small smile. “Show me around!”

  I do just that.

  ~*~*~*~

  “You gotta tell your momma, Skye.”

  I frown at my father, then shove at my sofa, moving it for the ninth time today. “I’ll tell her. I will.”

  “Not goin’ to let this go on and on, you hear me? She needs to know. We’re goin’ to help you, and the only way we can do that is if you’re honest with her.”

  “Okay, perfect citizen,” I mutter.

  “Hey,” he growls, and I look up at him, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment at my mean comment. “No need for that shit.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. I just . . . I’m ashamed.”

  He steps around the sofa and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t be ashamed. It happens—take it from me. You got family here who will support you, and down the track you’ll find the right man that’ll love you and your baby. Right now, you’re safe, well, and here with us. Tell your momma.”

  I sigh. “I’ll come by the compound tonight, spill the news.”

  He nods. “All right. How’re you feelin’, anyway?”

  “Like shit still, but the tablets are helping.”

  My dad smiles and damn, he looks so proud. He shouldn’t be proud; he should be angry and ashamed, but I’m his baby girl and the idea of being a granddad clearly doesn’t bother him at all. Not that I’d thought it would; he still is such a loving, caring father. He did all the things most fathers avoid. He was the one standing and clapping during ballet recitals, leather jacket and all. He was never ashamed to let me do what I needed; he’d always be by my side.

  Just like he is now.

  “How come you’re not angry at me?”

  He shrugs his big shoulders. “You’re my daughter, but more than that, you’re a person and we make mistakes, kid. All of us. No matter our status in the world. You got knocked up. Can’t say I like the idea of my baby doin’ things like that with . . . people like Preston, but you’re grown up now and you’re a smart, beautiful girl.”

  I shake my head. “You’re way too soft.”

  He grins. “Only you and your momma get that side of me.”

  I flop down onto the couch and study my hands. “I’m scared, Daddy. Scared of doing it alone; scared I won’t be enough; scared that I’ll do the wrong thing . . .”

  He sits beside me. “With or without a man by your side, Skye, those things would still be on your mind. Fuck, I was scared shitless when your momma was pregnant with you—worse when you were born. I had no fuckin’ idea what to do, but you learn. You grow with your child, and you give it the best you’ve got.”

  “I don’t want to be alone.” My voice hitches and a tear runs down my cheek.

  “You’re not alone. You’ve got us.”

  But I am.

  I am so damned alone.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Mom?” I call, moving through the compound and following the girlish laughter that, no matter how old my mom and her friends get, never ceases.

  I find my mom in the kitchen with Ciara and Serenity, all of them giggling about something on Serenity’s phone. They stop when they see me, and Mom rushes over, throwing her arms around my neck. “There you are! I went by your place this morning and you weren’t there.”

  “I was probably at the store,” I say, waving to the other two.

  “How’re you settling in?” Ciara asks.

  God, she’s so much like Danny. Those eyes.

  “Good.”

  “Happy to be home?” Serenity adds, studying me with a kind smile.

  “Yeah, I really am. Listen, I need to talk to Mom about something . . .” I trail off and look at the women, who sooner or later will know what’s going on, so I add, “Never mind. You’re all going to hear this eventually anyway.”

  “What’s going on?” Mom asks, concern etching her features.

  “You all know Preston and I were together for a while, and we broke it off. Well, in Paris, when I was sick . . . it wasn’t just the food.”

  “Honey?” Mom says, her voice worried.

  I sigh and say, “I’m pregnant, Momma.”

  “Oh my God!” Ciara screams so loudly I flinch.

  “What?” Mom cries, hand flying to her mouth.

  “I know,” I say quickly. “I know I’m young and . . . I didn’t plan it . . . and . . . God . . . I just . . . I wanted you to know. I’m keeping it, and things are going to get hard, and . . .”

  “I’m going to be a grandma?” Mom screams, catching me off-guard.

  “Ah, yeah, I guess,” I mumble, confused by her reaction.

  “I’m going to be a grandma!” she sings happily, throwing her arms around me. “Oh baby, congratulations.”

  Not how I expected this to go.

  “Mom,” I say, stepping back. “I’m young and . . . alone.”

  She blinks. “Preston doesn’t know?”

  I hate lying. I hate it.

  “No, and he’s not going to. I know that doesn’t seem like the right thing to do, but he treated me badly a
nd left me in a place where so much could have gone wrong. I don’t want him in my life or my child’s.”

  “Honey . . .”

  I put a firm hand up. “No, Momma, this is my choice and I’m free to make it. Daddy agrees with me.”

  “What?” she shrieks. “Your father knew about this before me?”

  Oh crap. “He guessed and—”

  “Cade!” she bellows, turning and charging out of the room.

  Crap. “Mom!” I yell.

  “Too late, honey,” Serenity says, squeezing my shoulder as she goes past. “The lioness is on the hunt.”

  I put my face in my hands. “God, this isn’t how this was supposed to go.”

  She laughs. “It’ll be okay. Come on, let’s see if we can stop the wild beast before she gets her claws into your daddy.”

  Ciara takes my hand and Serenity rushes ahead, all of us making our way out into the main living area where all the bikers are drinking. Including Danny. He sits at the bar, a beer in his hand, his eyes trained on my mom who stalks towards my dad, her hands waving in the air. This isn’t good. I don’t want Danny to know my secret. Not yet.

  I don’t get a chance to say a thing.

  “You knew my daughter was pregnant and didn’t tell me!” Mom bellows, throwing a punch into my dad’s arm.

  The entire room goes still and silent. She just announced to the entire club that I’m pregnant.

  My dad grunts and puts a hand up. “Calm down, woman. Wasn’t my story to tell, and this isn’t the place to be airing this.”

  “My baby is having a baby! You knew! You didn’t tell me! I am her mother; you should have told me.”

  “Her story to tell,” he repeats. “Now quit it, baby. You’re makin’ a scene.”

  My eyes find Danny’s and he’s staring at me, his mouth slightly agape, hurt written all over his face. He thinks it’s his. God. It is his. It . . . what am I doing? What the hell am I doing? He looks . . . sad, and happy, and angry. Shit. He looks angry. His face twists with fury. He stands, his stool flying backwards, his eyes wide with anger. He storms towards me and my mouth opens to stop him before he speaks, but nothing comes out.

  “Were you goin’ to tell me?” he barks. “Or did you plan on me findin’ out with the rest of the world?”

  I try to get words out, but nothing happens.

  This is not good.

  “Were you?” he bellows.

  I flinch.

  “Danny,” Ciara says, her voice hard. “What the hell is wrong with you? This isn’t your business!”

  “Not my business?” he snarls, turning to her. “She’s pregnant with my kid and you think it’s not my fuckin’ business?”

  “What?” my dad roars, his stool flying backwards.

  Oh no.

  No.

  No.

  “Daddy!” I cry, but he’s already charging towards Danny.

  Danny, as if realizing what he just said, stops bellowing at me and turns to my father. “Cade . . .”

  “You’ve been fuckin’ my daughter?” he roars.

  “Cade . . .”

  “Daddy!” I plead.

  My dad’s eyes swing to me. “You told me it was Preston’s kid. You lie to me, Skye?”

  God. Shit. This isn’t how this was meant to go at all. “Dad . . .”

  “Whose fuckin’ baby is it?” he roars so loudly I take a step back, tears running down my face.

  “It’s . . . it’s Danny’s.”

  He loses his shit. He spins, one fist flying out, and he hits Danny in the mouth, sending him stumbling backwards. Danny makes a pained grunt and Spike leaps off his chair, but doesn’t interfere. He looks pissed, too—hurt even. Everyone in the club stays out of it. Like they think Danny deserves this.

  He doesn’t. This is my fault.

  “How fuckin’ dare you touch my girl?” Dad roars.

  “Cade, I won’t fight you,” Danny pants, his fists clenched by his side.

  “How long?” my dad rasps.

  “Daddy,” I plead. Someone squeezes my arm. I don’t know who.

  “How long?” he screams.

  “Years, Cade.”

  Another punch, this one hitting him right in the eye. Danny goes down with a grunt, and Spike finally lunges in, his hands up, vibrating with rage. I don’t know if he’s panting at Danny or Dad. “Enough, Cade. This ain’t goin’ to help anything.”

  “My daughter is pregnant . . . to your boy. They’ve been fucking for years.”

  “I know that, but beatin’ him senseless ain’t gonna fix anything.”

  “Like fuck it won’t. That cunt—”

  “Cade!” my mom yells, her voice frantic. “Enough. That’s enough.”

  My dad’s shoulders slump, and his eyes swing to me. The disappointment in them breaks my heart. It just rips it wide open and throws it on the ground, crushing it into a bleeding mess. I’ve gone my whole life without seeing that look in my father’s eyes. I can’t bear it.

  “You lied to me,” he rasps.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I croak.

  “Never lied to each other, but you . . . you fuckin’ lied to me.”

  “I didn’t want”—I lift my hands and wave them around—“this.”

  Dad shakes his head, and it hurts. It hurts so bad to see him so upset with me. I take a shaky step to the side and my mom rushes over. “Honey . . .”

  “I need to go,” I whisper. I look to Spike, to Ciara, and then to Danny. “I’m so sorry.”

  Then I turn and run out.

  Nobody stops me.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I go to the only place I can find peace. The lake. I sit for what seems like hours, alone. My phone is in the car; I couldn’t bear to see the messages and calls I know will be flooding out from it. I didn’t want this to happen, not like this. I wanted Danny to be happy, to be free of me and my tangled mess, but he can’t be—not now.

  The rumbling sound of a Harley-Davidson behind me alerts me that I’m no longer alone, but I don’t turn around. There is only one person who knows where to find me, and he’s the one person I don’t think I can face right now. Facing him means having to explain myself, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know what it is I can give him that’s not going to rip his heart out even further.

  “Were you going to tell me?” His voice is raspy and hurt.

  “No,” I whisper.

  He explodes. He has the right to.

  “Seriously?” he bellows, stepping around in front of me. His face is a mess, battered from my father’s beating. His fists are clenched and he pants, so damned angry. I did that to him. Me. “You didn’t think I had the right to know?”

  I shrug.

  “God dammit, Skye,” he thunders so loudly I jerk. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you honestly think this was a good fuckin’ plan? When did you know?”

  “Paris,” I say in a meek voice.

  “Like we haven’t been through enough—you go and add this lie on top of every other fuckin’ lie you’ve told me.”

  I look up at him. “That’s exactly why I wasn’t going to tell you.”

  He laughs bitterly. “What pathetic excuse have you got for it this time? Go on, feed it to me. Like all the other bullshit you’ve put me through. Go on, Skye, fuckin’ tell me your excuse.”

  I stand up and get in his face, anger bursting through my tightly sealed seams. “I saw you smile!” I scream.

  He blinks. “What?”

  “On the phone—you were smiling. The new girl . . . you smiled when you spoke to her. A real smile, one that reached your eyes and I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t take it away from you after everything I’ve already done. You think I don’t know what I’ve put you through? God, I do. That’s the exact reason I didn’t want to say anything.”

  He stares at me for so long I start to wonder if he’s heard me at all.

  “That’s my child.” His voice is pained. Broken.

  “I know that, Danny.”
>
  “I have a right to fuckin’ make my own choice about it.”

  “That’s just the thing—it wouldn’t be a choice. I know you, do you forget that? You’d drop everything and stand by my side, because that’s what you do. You’re loyal and amazing, and you’d give everything. I don’t want that. I don’t want you to give up everything for me when you’ve given up so much already.”

  “That’s not your choice to make!” he roars.

  “It is my choice. It’s my body. It’s my baby.”

  “It’s not your baby—it’s our baby!” He yells so loudly my ears start to ring.

  This is a mess. It’s unhealthy and ugly. All I’m doing is causing pain, to my family, to him . . . to myself.

  “Stop,” I whimper, stepping back. “Please stop.”

  “What do you want from me?” he says, and his voice cracks. God. It breaks. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

  I look into his eyes and watch as a single tear slides down his face.

  “I’ve given you everything, Skye. Given you my world, my heart, my fuckin’ soul, and you’ve thrown it all back in my face because I wasn’t good enough for you. This life wasn’t good enough for you. None of it was fuckin’ good enough for you.”

  Tears run down my cheeks now. “You’re wrong,” I whisper. “You’re too good for me, Danny. This life is too good for me. It’s all too good for me. I don’t deserve any of it. I certainly never deserved you. You were right, about everything you said. I ran because I was scared. In running, I lost myself—God, I don’t even know who I am anymore. All I know is I can’t bear to see this hurt on your face any longer.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes glassy. “I can’t do this anymore, Skye.” His voice is a pained whisper. “Can’t be your punching bag. She makes me happy; she loves me for who I am; she gives me what I know I’ll need and then you come in and drop this bomb . . . shattering my world.”

  “I don’t want to shatter your world,” I protest, trying to push the pain his words bring into a dark part of my soul. “That’s exactly my point.”