Page 9 of Utah

“I think that’s what all dads say.” I laughed, loving referring to him as a dad. Utah was tough on the outside, impenetrable sometimes even. But his upbringing made him that way, so I understood. There was another side to him, however—a softer, sensitive side. And on the rare occasions he’d shown it to me, I’d fallen even deeper for him.

“No, I really will be awful. No one will be able to come near her. No dating. No boys. Never.” A flush cascaded over his face.

“Okay, calm down. We’re decades away from anything like that happening. Besides, this baby could very well be a boy. Then all your fears will go away.”

“I just know it’s a girl.” He sighed as he closed his eyes. “First things first, I gotta work on healing. No time for what-if scenarios right now.”

“Exactly.”

I ran my thumb back and forth over the top of his hand, the motion comforting me. When Knox first told me what happened to Utah, my thoughts took me down a dark path, but sitting here with him, talking about the baby, being able to touch him, to know he’ll be okay, a peace settled deep inside me.

Several minutes later, I reluctantly released his hand and stood. “I have to get ready for work. Call me if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll come by tomorrow. Then we’ll get you situated at my house.”

“You know you can’t work there much longer, right?”

“I’m not having this conversation again. Not now.”

When I’d stopped by the clubhouse to tell Utah I was pregnant—the night my brother first found out about us and attacked him—he’d told me he didn’t want me to continueworking at the bar. We’d gotten into an argument, which was something we seemed to do a lot of because we were both headstrong and stubborn. I told him I didn’t have a choice, that I needed money to live, and he offered to take care of me. I refused, and he didn’t care much for my rejection.

“Fine. I’m sure you’ll be open to discussing it again when you’re further along. I can wait.”

I pursed my lips at his arrogant tone, but then I reminded myself not to focus on anything other than helping him get better. As I reached the door, I smiled. If his attitude was back full force, Utah would be just fine.

5

Things between me and Ria had been tense for some time now, which was why her offer to let me stay with her while I recuperated surprised me. Instead of questioning whether it was a good move, though, I embraced the opportunity to spend more time with her. Unlike Crash, I’d been given a second chance, and I wasn’t going to waste it. I had every intention of solidifying our relationship. I loved her, even though I hadn’t told her as much. Yet. And we were having a baby. For us to be apart was asinine. In my humble opinion, at least.

Most of the guys had stopped in to see how I was doing after Ria left earlier today, but the one person I needed to see hadn’t come by yet. I’d asked where Prez was a couple times, and all I was told was that he would be here soon.

Lying in bed with nothing to do besides resting drove me nuts. I needed information on the cartel. I needed to know if Javier Carrillo was still in Texas or if he’d scurried back to Mexico, leaving his men to do his dirty work. I needed to know what the plan was now that they killed one of us. Surely, Prez wasn’t going to still wait for his meeting with Rafael Carrillo, Javier’s uncle, which could be months away.

So many questions peppered my brain, but I barely had any energy to focus on them because of the pain meds working through my system. The lessening of pain was awesome, but they made me tired. And I wanted to be alert in case something popped off. Not like I was in any shape to help if it did, though.

I snatched my cell from the bedside table to text Ria, but the second my finger touched the screen, Salzar walked into my room. Marek and Stone, our California charter’s president and VP, were hot on his heels.

“Hey,” Prez greeted. “How you feelin’?”

If the average citizen saw Prez out in the world without his cut, they’d probably think he was someone’s sweet ol’ grandpa. He had a full head of stark white hair and a clean-shaven face. But for those of us who knew him, we’d never refer to him as sweet.

Loyal—absolutely.

Fierce—no doubt.

Ruthless when he needed to be—never a question.

But never sweet.

“I’m alright.” I touched the bandage on my stomach. “Sore.” Next my fingers glided over the wound on my temple. “Bit of a headache.” My gaze swung toward Stone. “I’m wishing I had some of your magic right about now.”

Stone had something called congenital insensitivity to pain, which basically meant he never felt any physical pain, no matter what happened to him. Lucky bastard.

He tugged on his beard, which was a couple inches longer than mine. “My condition has come in handy more times than I care to count.” He and Marek shared a coded glance before he turned his attention back to me. “What exactly happened?”

He didn’t need to elaborate on his question before I started recounting the details of the other night, starting from when Knox asked me to check out a camera issue at Cloud Nine, to watching them kill Crash in front of me, to when the guysshowed up, killed the two cartel fuckers, and saved my life. Once I finished, I closed my eyes to regain some composure, anger boiling in my veins at the memory of Crash’s murder and the fact there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it. The fear in his eyes before he died would forever be etched into my brain.

The air was heavy with unspoken words. A beat passed as I looked between the three men standing in front of me.

People often viewed me as unapproachable, but I was nothing compared to Marek and Stone. After hearing the details of what happened, their anger was etched into every line of their face, pulsating in their clenched fists and twitching jaw muscles. They were decades younger than Salzar yet appeared just as formidable. If I didn’t know what kind of men they were, I’d second-guess looking in their direction.

---