Page 85 of Single Mom's Bikers

“That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“What plan?” I practically shout it. “What aren’t you telling me?”

She checks her phone, jaw tight. “You need to get back. The brothers will notice you’re gone.”

“Not until you explain.”

“I can’t.” She goes to open her car. “Just…be careful. Watch the girls. And Evie?”

“What?”

“Don’t tell them about the baby. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

But she’s already pulling away, leaving me with more questions than answers.

I sit in my car for a long time, replaying every interaction with Rose since we met. Her appearance when I needed help running. Her extensive knowledge of safe houses and escape routes. The way she always seems to know when trouble’s coming.

My phone buzzes. Chase is checking on me again. I should really go home.

Instead, I pull out the ultrasound photo yet again. Study the tiny life that’s apparently ruined some grand plan I knew nothing about.

The drive home gives me too much time to think—about protocols and plans, my supposed best friend’s strange behavior, and all the things that don’t add up.

But one thing’s certain—this baby exists. In seven months, my daughters will have a sibling, and three men will have a child.

And Rose…Rose will have to explain what game she’s really playing.

The gallery’s busy when I arrive. Chase is with a client, and Zane isn’t around. Rick looks up from the paperwork, concern crossing his face.

“You okay?”

“I am.” The lie comes automatically.

But my hand drifts to my stomach, to the secret growing there. To all the secrets threatening to explode.

“Mama!” Violet spots me from her homework corner. “Uncle Chase said we can get ice cream after school tomorrow!”

I force a smile, gathering her close. Breathe in her innocent scent.

What game is Rose playing with my children’s lives?

“Of course we can, baby.” I smooth her hair. “Whatever you want.”

Chase catches my eye across the room. I look away before he can read the truth in my face.

Seven months until this baby arrives.

32

RICK

The call comesat four AM. Clay’s voice is tight with controlled rage. “Mario’s shop is burning. You need to see this.”

I’m already moving, shrugging on leather while watching Evie sleep. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. Thank God. Let her have peace a little longer.

The night air carries smoke even before I see the flames. Mario’s Automotive has been under Black Wolves’ protection for twenty years. Now, it’s an inferno against the dark sky.

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