Page 4 of Where We Promise

I stared at the text, annoyed that we were doing this again. He was watching, as usual. It’d been like this since we arrived two weeks ago, and as much as I should want to shed his overprotective presence, I wouldn’t. Which was why I felt annoyed. I was weak, and I hated that he continued to notice it.

I punched out a reply.

Me: Can’t sleep…why are you watching the cabin?

I already knew why, but I liked to pretend that I didn’t need him, or relied on his constant check-ins.

My mind threw up my new situation for the thousandth time, as if I could discover a way out of this reality. But, no, there was no way around the truth. I was currently staying in a random cabin on rival club property.

The Stone Riders clubhouse was just about half a mile north of the cabin, and to the south was a two-story house that currently maintained Jameson, and the remaining faithful men of his club, the Chaos Kings.

Luke, the asshole, had aligned himself with a man recently released from prison, Jefferson Quinn. The madman wanted to claim the very club I was now living with. They made quite a pair: Luke wanted the Chaos Kings, and Jefferson wanted to take the Stone Riders from his son, Killian Quinn. So, Jameson came here with the remaining loyal men…and me.

Anger barreled into me once more as I remembered what Luke had done. My hand went to my swollen stomach protectively as my mind threw back the memory of when I discovered I was pregnant. I stupidly assumed Luke would be happy. I had baked a cake…I bought a onesie that had a motorcycle on it with the words, “daddy has a new rider,” across it.

Gene had helped me prep everything, and my mom had found the person on Etsy to make the custom shirt. We were all so excited…

Then everything changed. In a single moment, my entire life shifted, and it was like I couldn’t get my feet under me no matter what I did. Seven months, and I was still tripping over the changes forced upon me.

At least I got out in time. Before the baby got here, before Luke could reject our son in person, or worse…hurt him.

The sound of my phone chiming had the thoughts of the past dissipating like smoke.

Jamie: You know why

Familiar rage coursed through me, forcing bitter emotion to clog my throat and tears to burn behind my eyes. I did not want to rely on Jameson King. Of all the people in the world, he was the last man I wanted catering to me simply because he felt obligated to do so.

It was bad enough he rejected me in his own way, but now he was worried about me, but not for any other reason than the promise he made to a dying woman.

Jamie: Pen, you need to sleep. You’ve done this the last few nights in a row. It’s nearly two in the morning.

I knew he was right, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to turn off the light. I didn’t feel safe enough to plunge the room into darkness. Regardless that he wasn’t even a mile away from me and could apparently see my window.

I tried to reassure myself that the property was gated, guarded and we were safe. But I didn’t know the Stone Riders, and while Jamie assured me their members would never harm me, I still felt nervous. The club was under new leadership from what I understood. Simon Stone had initially led it for years and years, but he’d passed three or four months ago and now Killian Quinn was the president. That could change things in a club, create havoc. It wasn’t any better than the Chaos Kings that followed Jamie here. While they were loyal to him, they weren’t to me.

Staring up at the ceiling, I ignored Jamie’s texts for countless minutes, counting off facts.

I was twenty-five, jobless, single, pregnant, and technically homeless.

My eyes were dry, irritated but refused to close. I knew it wasn’t good for the baby for me to miss so many nights of sleep…I understood this, and yet I felt like I was protecting him by staying awake.

Another text chimed next to my head, where I’d placed the phone.

Jamie: I’m at your door.

My chest pinched at the fact that he knew knocking would have sent me into a panic attack. I slowly slid out of bed and padded out of the room. The cabin was so small that the room exited into a small dining area, which was connected to the front entry.

Sliding the deadbolt to the right, and then unhooking the chain, I turned the knob and pulled.

Jamie gently pushed his way in from the midnight air, not waiting for an invitation. Which I preferred because I wouldn’t give him one.

He locked the door behind him as he cleared the entry and slid out of his boots.

I regarded him sleepily, while also keenly aware of every single inch of him.

Jameson King was handsome when cleaned up, but dressed down, wearing a black hoodie, a pair of gray sweatpants and his unlaced motorcycle boots—as though he’d just slipped out of bed—was devastating.

I turned away from him, anchoring my arms over my chest.

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