Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Fuuuuuck.”
Reilly was right. He couldn’t hide in the car to avoid whatever was about to happen.
He got out of the Honda and opened the back door, leaning in and trying to figure out how to unlatch the car seat from the base. Reilly had figured it out at the lab where they went to do the DNA test, but he hadn’t paid attention.
He should have.
The kid was crying even more now, her face red, her mouth open, her eyes tearing up.
“It’s okay, monkey,” he spoke softly, trying to soothe her. “Gonna get you out. Gonna figure it out.”
Squeeze the handle.
“Shhh, little monkey. If anyone should be cryin’, it should be me.”
Squeeze the other piece.
He sighed with relief when the car seat unlatched and he carefully pulled it out, trying not to jostle the baby too much.
Holding the carrier’s handle, he glanced down at its contents. “It’s okay, monkey. The only one gonna die today may be me.”
He quickly made his way toward the garage, noticing Trip and Judge had gone inside. Probably to grill Reilly.
Like she had anything to do with any of this.
He set his jaw and stepped inside.
And saw no one. Where the fuck did everyone go?
“They’re all waiting for you out back,” came Reilly’s voice from the tiny break room behind the office.
“Great,” he muttered under his breath.
“Take her with you. I’ll bring out the bottle.”
“Great,” he muttered again.
He carefully maneuvered himself and the car seat through the back door and spotted everyone gathered around the old picnic table where they ate and smoked when the weather was decent. He stopped right outside the door, weighing his options.
Unfortunately, he had none.
The group included, not only his father and brother, but Trip, Judge, Deacon, Rev, Whip and even Sig. Having the prez, VP, and sergeant at arms show up unexpectedly didn’t bode well.
He pursed his lips as he stared at the crew as they stared at the occupied car seat. “Before anyone says anything—”
“Nope,” Judge cut him off. “Come sit down and put that thing on the table.”
That thing?
Cage hoped the enforcer meant the car seat and not his kid. The kid. He gritted his teeth.
Do I have to? was on the tip of his tongue. Damn it.
Everyone’s eyes remained glued on the crying baby as he approached and set the car seat in the center of the weathered wood table.
“Sit.”
Just as he was planting his ass on one of the benches, Reilly burst through the steel back door and rushed over with a bottle and an old towel in her hand. Her gaze circled the group. “Who’s going to feed her?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned to Cage. “It isn’t hard, just stick the nipple in her mouth. You should know how to do that... very well.” She snickered.
Cage pressed his lips together. He wasn’t appreciating any of Reilly’s ill-timed humor today.
“Her pap will feed her.” Dutch came forward, plucking the bottle from Reilly. “It ain’t too hot, right?”
“No, I Googled how to check the temperature. It’s just right.”
The old man nodded, then settled at the table across from Cage, turned the car seat toward him and encouraged the baby to take the bottle.
After a few false starts, she finally accepted it.
And, thank fuck, stopped crying.
Finally.
Reilly went to take a place at the table next to Cage and Judge stopped her with a deep, “Get lost, Reilly.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“We’re talkin’ club business.”
“So?”
“Get inside, girl,” Dutch ordered her. “Someone needs to answer the fuckin’ phones and deal with the customers while we’re dealin’ with this.”
“But—”
“Go,” Cage said softly.
She stared at him for a second, then nodded and went back inside at a lot slower pace than how she came out. She took one last glance at him before shutting the door behind her.
“How did you—”
Trip cut Cage off. “Don’t matter. We were gonna find out one way or another.”
True. A baby wasn’t something he could hide.
“Issue ain’t you havin’ a kid, Cage,” Judge started. “The problem’s who the mother is. And what you’re gonna do about it. You can’t keep an infant in the bunkhouse.”
“First, before you start makin’ plans, like a vote, or whatever... Or kick me out of the bunkhouse, can we at least wait to find out if she’s really mine?” Cage asked hopefully.
“We can wait,” Trip said, which loosened up Cage’s chest a cunt hair. “Rook said you went to go get the DNA test done. When do the results come back?”
“They said it could take up to five days. No less than two.”
“Fuck,” Rook muttered behind him.
Their prez continued, “But no matter if she’s yours or not, you broke one of the club rules. That alone needs to go to the table. This S... She an Amish girl?”
“Yeah, she... uh...” His eyes sliced to Sig, who stood back a little bit with Rev and Whip, behind the menacing wall Judge, Trip and Deacon made. “Sarah’s cousins with Rebecca. Met her when she was deliverin’ shit... She chased me.” Cage closed his eyes for a second and cursed silently. They weren’t going to give a fuck if a skirt chased him, he ultimately made the choice to flip that skirt over her head.