Page 75 of Motorycle Daddies

He sighs and rakes his big hands through his hair. “You’re right. She’d never do anything to harm it. I’m just trying to understand why she didn’t tell us. It hurts me that she didn’t. Doesn’t it hurt you?”

“It pisses me off more than anything. She better have a good explanation,” I state.

“I’m just sort of sad that she didn’t trust us to deal with it,” Dart quietly says. “What are we going to do about it? You know, once we know who it belongs to? Do the other two just walk away?”

“I’m not walking away. I don’t think any of us will. We’ll figure it out as we go along,” I admit.

“It’s possible there won’t be a baby after tonight. What if this attack made her lose it? Have you thought about that?” Grizzly questions us.

“Shit! No! We haven’t had as much time to get used to this as you. You had time to think on the way over. No wonder you weren’t talking or giving orders. You were busy freaking out. I say we go find the damn doc and demand he tell us if she’s lost it,” I retort.

Finding the doctor isn’t necessary. The nurse is already heading for us.

“She’s awake. That’s a good sign. The doctor says you can all go in, but don’t be loud or upset her. She’s had a scare already and the concussion will make her head ache. She may be a little woozy as well.”

Fear for Meredith and anger against the attacker overwhelm me when I see her head bandaged, bruising so stark in the harsh hospital lights and IV attached to her arm. I notice that both Grizzly and Dart have the same grim expressions on their faces.

Still, the reality is we need to know what she was doing and why she never told us about the baby. We want answers, despite her condition.

There’s only room for one of us on her right side where the IV stands. I take that spot, which means Dart and Grizzly line up on her left. I take one hand while Dart takes the other. Grizzly touches her face and moves stray hair off her cheek.

“I’m awake,” she whispers hoarsely.

“It’s about time,” I tease. “Your little nap was longer than we liked.”

“Funny,” she says as she opens her eyes to look at us. “I’m okay. Don’t look at me like I’m dying.”

“Who did it?” Grizzly demands.

She sighs and answers, “I didn’t see any faces, but I might be able to recognize the voices.”

“So, there was more than one,” Dart says.

“Two as best I could tell,” she replies.

“Why were you running away?” I ask before Grizzly can start the interrogation I see coming in his eyes.

“You know?”

“A prospect found the duffel. You have a lot to explain,” I warn her.

“I just wanted some time away. Time to think,” she admits.

“About the damn baby?” Grizzly injects.

“Why didn’t you tell us? And…is the baby okay?” I add tentatively.

She gives us a faint smile and says, “The baby is still on board. It’s fine, according to the sonogram they did after the doctor was told to check. I suppose someone spilled the beans against my wishes.”

“You’re damn right. But you should have told us right away,” I grumble, the anger rising now that I know she and the baby will make it.

“I wasn’t sure how to tell you, or who to even tell. You know there’s no way I can say which of you is the father. I didn’t even know whether any of you would be willing to claim it or if it was even wanted. Frankly, I was scared of what would happen. A fight? A demand to get rid of it?”

“That’s bullshit! We’d never ask that of you, just like we know you’d never do it anyway! That baby isn’t just yours. At least one of us has a claim to it. I think we all want it,” Grizzly yells.

We realize too late that we’re not alone. A young prospect is in the doorway and is listening with shock to our argument.

He’s already heard too much, and that can’t be allowed.