Page 36 of Protector

I fought to get air into my lungs before carefully asking, “Where’d you hear that?”

It wasn’t true.

This was just another way for her to manipulate me. The only trouble was that her old man had gotten to Celia long before I had. If anyone knew what really went down, it was him.

She mashed her lips together before admitting, “He was drunk; said he didn’t realize there would be so much blood. Look, I’m sorry that it happened to her. No one deserves what she went through.”

“Blood?” Every muscle in my body contracted, leaving me vibrating with tension.

Betsy nodded. “From the miscarriage. I guess she wasn’t that far along… maybe a few weeks. I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you—I thought you knew.”

You want a baby, princess?

The blood on her robe.

“Jesus, fuck,” I muttered to myself. Despite what Betsy thought, it hadn’t been another man’s baby in Celia’s belly.

It had been mine.

There was a reason things had felt strangely familiar that night; because, I was right. I’d been through it before.

Just not with Celia.

The reality of the situation barreled through me, and I let out a low growl before storming into the clubhouse with Betsy right on my heels.

“Grey—he said not to—”

“Comedian!” I roared over the music and drunk bikers, the vein in my forehead throbbing to the point of rupturing. I didn’t want to believe that my men would keep something like that from me.

The clubhouse fell silent, magnifying the sounds of my ragged breaths. Comedian stood up slowly, keeping a hand on the gun at his hip. “Pres, everything okay?”

“Did you know?”

He looked past me to Betsy, confirming the truth as the color drained from his face. “Shit. Grey, I can explain—”

My eyes stung, and I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep my emotions from spilling onto my cheeks. “You—you knew she was pregnant?” My tone betrayed me; giving away the helplessness I’d tried so hard to hide.

Bear stepped into view, staring daggers down at Comedian. “Pres asked you a question; it’d be in your best interest to answer.”

“We did what we could for her, but it was too late. She asked us not to tell you; said with what happened to your ma—”

His words dealt a death blow to my heart, but I refused to break down in a room full of bikers. I ran my tongue over my trembling lip with a smirk. “See, that’s funny. I could’ve sworn you rode in my club. Bear, ain’t that the way it’s always been?”

“Pretty sure it is, Pres.”

I nodded. “And since when did we discuss club business with Ol’ Ladies, Bear?”

“Since never,” he replied icily. “The shit that went down with Grey’s Ol’ Lady shoulda never crossed your tongue, Comedian.”

“But she was knocked up by another man!” Betsy snapped. “Who cares who he told? Just focus on what really matters.”

“Shut the fuck up, Betsy,” Comedian pleaded.

Bear traded a look with Torch, and he nodded, before downing the rest of his beer and making his way over to her.

“Betsy,” I said, as Torch locked an arm around her bicep and began dragging her to the door. “Baby was mine.”

Her eyes widened in horror, and then she was gone.

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