Page 83 of Throttle

Maggie laughs. “The worst! I’ve never seen him so moody. Boy has got it bad.”

Huh. He has been more grouchy than normal, but before I can ask more about it, Charger drives up with a pregnant bride-to-be. With his help, she gathers her long, white, flowing dress and her hair, falls over her shoulders. Her beach waves and delicate floral tiara make her resemble a genuine princess.

“Oh my God. Everything looks amazing!” Jules wipes the tears off her cheeks, and we gather in for a hug.

“You can’t cry. You’ll ruin your pretty makeup.” Angel sniffs, getting us just as emotional.

“You cannot tell a hormonal pregnant woman not to cry. I cry all the stupid time.” Jules laughs, wiping another tear. “You girls are the best.”

“Great. Now we’re all crying.” Maggie snatches a tissue off the table. “I knew we were going to need these.”

A throat clears behind us. “Ladies.” Charger nods. “I hate to interrupt the emotional circle, but I wish to say goodbye and give a hug to my soon-to-be wife.”

We move apart, wiping our cheeks, and he embraces Jules, planting a kiss on her forehead. Then he gets Chloe from the backseat, and she comes running.

“Let’s party!” In the wind, Chloe's pink dress flows as she twirls in a circle.

I pick her up and spin with her. “Yes! It’s time to celebrate.”

“Don’t forget! Bring flowers after. It’s tradition,” Jules tells her fiancé.

“I won’t forget, pretty girl. Have fun.” Charger, six feet plus, squeezes into their family SUV and drives off.

“All right. Let’s eat. I’m famished.” Jules heads for the food table.

“Before the guests arrive?” Maggie quips.

“This little guy waits for no one.”

“We’re still going with a boy?” I ask.

“Oh yeah, even if Charger wants to wait and have it be a surprise. I’m feeding a muscled baby in here.” Jules pats her belly, then tosses an avocado cucumber in her mouth. “Besides.” Mid chew she says. “I feel it in my soul. This kid is a boy.”

“Regardless of the baby's gender, we are thrilled to meet him or her,” Maggie says and couldn’t agree more.

“Me too.” Chloe claps. “I want a little brother.”

“And you will be the best big sister ever.” I bop her on the nose, and she giggles.

We have played the games. People have consumed the food. And Jules is on her last gift, holding up the adorable onesie that reads Biker in training. We laugh with added awes.

“Don’t tell Venom I told you, but it was his idea,” Angel says, grinning.

“I knew he was hiding his soft side.” Jules laughs and I’m always fascinated at how accepting she is of him, considering what had happened with him and his old President. She was kidnapped, and he had a partial involvement, despite his aid in her rescue. Such a weird situation, but she has a kind and forgiving heart.

Jules says her goodbyes to Lisa, her high school friend on FaceTime. She couldn’t make it, but promised she’d check in.

As Jules unwraps her last present, we fall silent at the noise of something in the distance. The sound of motorcycles makes the hairs on my neck stand up. While it may go unnoticed by ordinary people, we are vigilant of threats. There's always an uncertainty when you're part of a MC.

With bated breath, we watch in silence as they approach, growing nearer. As three bikes emerge, we patiently wait for them to pass by.

When someone slows down, another person also slows, and my heart beats faster. They park, swinging their large thighs off their seats, and my stomach sinks.

Not here. Not today.

Angel, Maggie, and I exchange a worried glance.

“Come on Chloe bug, let’s go to the lake and see if we can watch some fish.” Jules's mom takes her by the hand, leading them away from trouble.

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