Tonight is no exception, only I’m the one right in the middle of the drama that always seems to hit this place. It’s not Jasmine disclosing her love for two men, or Rivet admitting in front of everyone that she and Cannon—the goofball of the group—are together.
This is the second time I’ve been the center of the drama—the first being when Sophia let it slip I was pregnant in the first place—and last time the drama was interrupted by the phone call that Drew had been arrested.
“I’ll kill him!” my dad roars.
The man has always paid way too much attention, and I’m not refuting Sophia’s question. The man has put it together, and that doesn’t bode well for everyone involved.
“Stop,” Lawson hisses, his chest against Dad’s.
“You need to calm down,” Jaxon insists, his hand going to one of Dad’s shoulders as Kincaid draws even closer.
“What is happening right now?” Delilah asks, confusion drawing her brows in as she looks around the room.
“Oh, Izzy. Way to go,” Gigi whispers at my side. “That is going to be one good-looking baby.”
I look around meeting Jasmine’s eyes. Despite the age difference, she’s always there for me, always the first I look to when something goes wrong.
Sadness fills her features, and I don’t know if it’s because I’ve managed to disappoint her or if she doesn’t have a solution.
Dad is fuming, his face red as his eyes stay focused on the front door Drew disappeared through. He reacted the same way when he found out I was pregnant. He went after Apollo that night just because the new Cerberus member and I had a conversation in the kitchen. We talked about crackers and ginger ale, and although I never verbally confessed I was pregnant to Apollo then, I think he made the correct assumption.
Max wasn’t wrong earlier when he was joking about Dad still thinking Apollo was the father even though I’ve been adamant that he isn’t. Dad finding this out now about Drew is like getting that initial news all over again.
“Dad,” I say, crossing the room and placing my hand on his chest. “You need to calm down.”
“Is he—” he swallows a growl. “Did he get you pregnant?”
I stand a little taller. “I’m not having this conversation with you right now.”
His eyes search mine, and I know even without the words, he can see my truth there. He’s still mad, but he stops pushing against the guys who are keeping him from going after Drew.
“Are you going to go talk to him?”
I turn to look at Lawson, wondering why there’s hope I haven’t seen in months in his eyes. Everyone has put on a good face around here, but the strain of Drew’s arrest has affected many people—Lawson and Delilah in particular. They haven’t openly spoken about the strain of being apart while Lawson is out of town dealing with Drew’s case, but it’s clear in the way they interact with each other. They’ve both been quieter, less engaging. Some nights, everyone gets together and they don’t come from across the street to socialize.
“Should I?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Delilah says, holding on to her husband’s arm. “He’s upset. I don’t want him to—”
“He’s not going to hurt her,” Lawson snaps, the words coming out gritty from between his teeth.
Clearly that’s part of the contention between the two. Lawson has faith that his brother is a good man, and possibly Delilah is looking at surface facts. I can’t be the judge either way because I’ve been kept in the dark and working on my master’s program, getting as much work done as I can before the baby is born.
“Go talk to him,” Lawson urges again.
With a queasy stomach and trembling legs, I step outside on the front porch and close the door behind me. Dad is livid, but he knows I have to do this on my own. I had more faith in my ability until I was out here alone. I don’t see a shadow walking across the road to Lawson’s house, so that tells me that he didn’t go that direction.
The darkness around the clubhouse doesn’t scare me. I know how protected I am here, that there isn’t a person around willing to mess with the men of the Cerberus MC or the women they have sworn to protect, but there’s something in the air that makes my feet not want to work properly. Maybe it’s knowing I’m fixing to come face-to-face with a man I never thought I’d see again, a man I didn’t want to have to explain that night to.
I mean, seriously, what woman in her right mind sleeps with a guy she doesn’t know? What kind of woman hands over her virginity without so much as a whimper?
Me, apparently, but he doesn’t know that. More than likely, to him, I was a good time, a thrill while he was waiting for his partner to take care of whatever personal project he was working on that night.
And getting pregnant? Isn’t that just the scab on a wound he didn’t even know he had?
I didn’t have expectations. I don’t keep myself up at night with all the what could’ve beens.
I decided the second those two lines showed up that I could do this on my own, but not having this conversation isn’t something I can avoid, not with him walking in here like a ghost from my past.
A noise on the side of the clubhouse draws my attention, forcing my feet to move in that direction.
I don’t know much about this man, but I know he was charming the night we met, gentle when I needed him to be while we were up against my car, caring in the way he kissed me and how his hands fluttered over my skin like our meeting meant more to him than he could describe with words. But Delilah’s unease has now become my own. I don’t know him, and the man has been charged with beating another man to death. I know what he’s capable of, and that is almost enough to make me turn around.
Then I hear a sob, a shuddering rush of air like an animal wounded and in need of help.
“Drew,” I whisper when his hunched form comes in to view.
When he turns, I expect to see the same look of disbelief on his face, which is there in part, but it’s the tears flowing down his cheeks that have me reaching for this man.
He’s swift in his movement, coming to stand directly in front of me. One of his hands clamps the back of my neck, the other at my waist as he presses his forehead to mine.
“I wanted to. I just couldn’t. I didn’t get there in time. I should’ve never let you leave that night. Should’ve begged you to stay with me before you got in your car.”
His rambling makes no sense, but that doesn’t stop the urge to comfort him.
“I should’ve opened my mouth and said all the crazy things that were in my head. Should’ve told you that what we shared was special, that the connection I had to you was something I never felt before. I’ve thought about you every fucking day.” His head draws back a few inches, those bright blue eyes that once looked at me with mirth now filled with pain and sorrow. “But you have to go, baby. You have to stay out of my head, stay out of my dreams. The torture is just too much. If I could change things, I would. If I could’ve saved you, if I could’ve gotten there… I’d give anything to go back. If I had never let you walk away, maybe you would’ve been somewhere else that night.”