Page 66 of Nanny for the Bikers

Kip and Clay nod in agreement, their expressions mirroring Teller’s sincerity.

Something loosens in my chest, a knot of tension unraveling. I feel like I can finally breathe again, the weight of uncertainty lifting from my shoulders. They mean it. They really mean it.

I sag against Teller, letting him wrap his arms around me as I bury my face in his chest. Clay and Kip move in, enveloping me in a warm embrace.

Teller’s arms tighten around me as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “We’re sorry we weren’t upfront with you from the start, Ayla. We should have been.”

I nod against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “There’s something else I need to know,” I murmur, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Piper...do you really not know which one of you is her father?”

The brothers exchange a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. It’s Clay who speaks first, his voice low and measured. “We know it’s one of us,” he admits. “But it doesn’t matter which one. We’re all committed to raising her together.”

Kip nods in agreement, his hand finding mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Piper is our daughter, Ayla. All of ours.”

I feel a swell of admiration for their unity, for the unwavering bond between them. It’s a kind of loyalty I’ve never experienced before, a depth of commitment that takes my breath away.

“I need you to understand something,” I say softly, my gaze moving from one brother to the next. “I’m vulnerable with you, and I don’t keep secrets. I need to know that you won’t keep anymore from me either.”

The tension in the room is palpable, a heaviness that settles over us like a weighted blanket. I study their faces, searching for any hint of what they might be holding back. Clay’s jaw is clenched, his eyes darting away from mine. Kip’s leg bounces nervously, his fingers drumming against his thigh. And Teller... Teller’s gaze is fixed on the floor, his shoulders hunched as if bracing for impact.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “Something you haven’t told me.”

The silence stretches on, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my palms slick with sweat. I’m not sure I want to know the answer, but I can’t live with the uncertainty. I need to know everything or this is never going to work.

“Please,” I breathe, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I need the truth.”

Teller’s head snaps up, his gaze locking with mine. There’s a wariness in his eyes, a hesitation that sends a chill down my spine. He glances at his brothers, a silent communication passing between them.

“Ayla...” he begins, his voice rough with emotion. “We... we’re part of the Black Wolves.”

I blink, the words taking a moment to register. “The Black Wolves? What’s that?”

Teller takes a deep breath, his shoulders squaring as if preparing for battle. “It’s a motorcycle club. We’re members.”

The world seems to tilt on its axis, the floor shifting beneath my feet. A motorcycle club. Images flash through my mind - leather jackets, roaring engines, danger lurking in the shadows. Kyle coming home after a meeting already drunk, ready for a fight over anything and everything. Blood already on his knuckles as he makes my mother take off his jacket. It’s everything I’ve been running from, everything I’ve been trying to escape.

“A motorcycle club,” I repeat, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. “Like... like gangs and stuff?”

Kip flinches at the word, his eyes filling with pain. “We’re not a gang, Ayla. It’s not like that.”

But I’m barely listening, my mind reeling with the implications. How could I have been so blind? How could I have let myself fall for men who are part of a world I want nothing to do with? I knew they rode motorcycles, and I was fine with it when I thought they did it for fun. Not when they’re part of a club. Motorcycle clubs had a bad reputation in my area that had a bloody history. Kyle used to talk about wanting to join one, even going as far as buying a bike but he would often too drunk to ride it.

I take a step back, my legs trembling beneath me. I need air. I need space. I need to get away from here, away from them.

“I... I can’t do this,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I can’t...”

And then I’m turning, my feet carrying me towards the door. I can hear them calling after me, their voices laced with desperation. But I don’t stop. I can’t stop.

I have to get out of here. I have to run.

35

KIP

Icurse under my breath as another plank slips out of place, the harsh sound reverberating in the otherwise silent room. Sweat glistens on my brow and frustration coils in my gut. Why can’t I get this damn flooring right?

“Kip?” Jamie’s gentle voice interrupts my internal rant. I glance up to see her concerned eyes studying me, a dish towel clasped in her hands.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “Just having some trouble with these planks.”

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