Placing my hand on my belly, I look down at my stomach. Four and a half months, that’s how long I’ve been holding on to this information, and holding it, from Mountain. It’s getting harder and harder for me to feel the need to go to him and tell him about our child.
Damn it, Bones and Dutch were both right. I need to tell Mountain and soon, or I never will. Just talking about liking someone, about the future with Ana, has my brain working overtime. I have to tell him. I can’t hide it and can’t deny it. Next week, I find out what the sex of the baby is, that’s when I’ll tell him.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
Chapter Thirty
MOUNTAIN
Weeks pass by. I don’t bother going back to my house. I have brand new furniture there that I haven’t even broken in, but what is the fucking point? I bought all of it for a life that I’m not going to have. Going back would just be too fucking depressing.
Also.
I have a major fucking problem.
My dick.
Not even Pinkie can make it work and that shit is seriously pissing me off. I could blame the booze, blame the pot, but in the back of my mind, I already know what it is. It’s that fucking Leighton and her magical fucking cunt.
“You just gonna ignore your woman who is still hanging out in New Mexico?” Gator asks.
I almost tell him to go fuck himself. Instead, I turn to look over at him, narrowing my gaze with a scowl. “Why the fuck do you care? Don’t you have enough shit to worry about with your woman and your man?” I snap.
Gator’s lips twitch and turn up into a grin. “Yeah, I do. But I also know that Ana is worried about Leighton, she likes her and I like Ana. So, that’s why I care,” he explains.
“That’s why you care?” I grunt.
He nods his head, reaching out, he claps me on the shoulder, squeezing me with a shake. “That’s why I care, and other reasons.”
“Other reasons?”
He shakes my shoulder, taking a step back. I watch him as he turns around and walks away. “Oh, and Mountain?” he calls.
I look up, watching him as he grins over at me. “You might want to head that way sooner rather than later. I hear Dutch is wearing her down. Nothing’s happened, but I hear he’s close to getting inside and tappin’ that.”
I growl, taking a step forward, my fists balling tightly. “Hey, hey,” he calls out, lifting his hands, palms forward. “Don’t kill the messenger.”
“She livin’ at the clubhouse?”
Gator’s lips curl up into a shit-eating grin. He got whatever he wanted. I don’t care, fine, fuck it. He wants me pissed off, going down there, starting a war? He’s got it.
“I tell you and what’ll you do?” he asks.
Taking a step toward him, I lean forward, my gaze focused on his and nowhere else. “What do you think I’ll do if you don’t tell me?” I ask.
Gator tilts his head to the side, then he grins. “I’ll take you there. Truck’s out front, c’mon,” he offers.
Shaking my head slowly, I widen my stance and watch him for a moment. Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out with a sigh. “I’ll follow you. Leighton’s coming home on the back of my bike, not in someone else’s truck.”
“So, you’ve made your decision,” a voice calls out from behind me.
I don’t even have to look to know who it is. Known the man for over half my life, I know exactly what he sounds like. I think about not answering him, ignoring him completely, but I don’t. Instead, I lift my hand, flipping him off before I turn to look back at him from over my shoulder.
“Don’t you think I made that decision months ago?” I ask.
Dragon grins. “You been taking a long fucking time to implement it,” he shouts.
I shrug a shoulder. “I don’t do pressure, you know that.”
“I know you don’t like to share your fuckin’ toys, and I have a feeling that’s on the verge of happening.”
This time I do ignore him. Walking away, I don’t say a fucking word to him. He’s just trying to goad me, and the fucker of it all, is that it works. I don’t like sharing, not unless it’s two women with just me, that’s fun. But when I want something just for myself, fuck anyone who tries to touch it or take it from me—I’ll kill them.
Dutch is trying to take what’s mine and I’m not going to fucking stand for it. Walking over to my bike, I throw a leg over with a grunt. Starting the engine, I look over at Gator who is sitting in his idling truck, still wearing that same shit-eating grin.
Narrowing my eyes at him, he throws his hand out the window, giving me a peace sign before he speeds off. Without hesitation, I follow him. The ride to New Mexico is quick, less than an hour, but it feels like a lifetime.
I’m thinking about the men then, the Skulls and the way they are with their women. My heart starts to slam in my chest at the thought of my woman being kept in a cage, especially after the life she’s lived.
We pull up to the main gate and the man guarding gets out and talks to Gator. I watch them for a few minutes shooting the shit. I want to tell them to hurry the fuck up, but I don’t. I’m honestly not ready for what awaits me when we drive through those gates.
If Leighton doesn’t want me, if she’s really done with me, I don’t know. I’m not in love with her, but that doesn’t take away my want—my need for her either.
The gates open slowly and Gator creeps forward. I follow, my mind completely fucking spinning with what-ifs. I feel like I’m spinning completely out of control. What happens next for me is so unknown, and this is why I never put myself out there.
This is the exact reason.
The last time I wasn’t in control of my life was when my brother was beating the shit out of me on a regular basis. This feels different, really fucking different, and it’s why I have pushed her away. Leighton means something to me, something that I just can’t quite put my finger on.
Parking next to Gator’s truck, I kill my engine but stay on my bike as I stare at the building in front of me. The clubhouse. She could be inside, but I really fucking hope that she’s not. She’s been here for months, I know if she were at our clubhouse after that long she’d be a clubwhore, no doubt about it.
“You coming in? I don’t know if she’s inside or out back,” Gator murmurs.
“Out back?”
He doesn’t say anything right away. Shifting my gaze toward him, I tip my head back and look up into his eyes. He’s not grinning anymore, instead he just shrugs a shoulder.
“Yeah, there’s a modular out back that she and Ana share.”
“Wait,” I call out. He stays where he is, his gaze still focused on mine as he does what I ask. “What’s with you and Ana?”
“I love Mamba and Maria,” he says as his response.
“You love them, but you fuck Ana?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes narrowing as he looks down at me while I’m still straddling my bike. It’s my turn to give him a shit-eating grin.
“Not anymore,” he grunts.
“Because?”