Page 30 of The Keeper

“Fuck!” I roared, pinching the bridge of my nose to keep the tears at bay.

A couple of people in scrubs walked by, giving me a wide berth and wary looks as they passed.

Yeah, I imagined I looked like hell. But I felt even worse.

Aware it was only a matter of time before someone called security on the unhinged biker, I moved away from the entrance. My boots scraped against the asphalt, each step heavy and clumsy, but I didn’t stop until I reached the parking lot.

The ache in my chest became unbearable, and I dropped to my knees beside Piper’s SUV. My breath left my body in shallow, rapid bursts, and I locked my hands behind my neck, leaning forward as if I could fold myself into something small enough to contain this pain.

All the pieces were clicking together now—the way Piper had stumbled over her words when we first reconnected, her skittishdeflection every time I brought up our night together, the shadow in her eyes when she talked about complications.

It wasn’t another man.

It was me.

I was the complication.

Why hadn’t she told me?

Had she thought I wouldn’t fucking care—that I wouldn’t want to know my own kid? Or had she, like her mother, assumed because I was a biker, I wasn’t good enough? Some deadbeat who wouldn’t stick around once I knew the truth.

White-hot rage coursed through my veins. I threw my head back and stared up at the endless expanse of pale blue sky. The tears I’d been holding back fell rapidly at the thought of my little girl growing up believing her father never wanted her.

Anger clawed its way to the surface again. I was angry at Piper for keeping the truth from me. Angry at myself for not finding her sooner. Angry at the entire fucked up situation.

The urge to punch something again was overwhelming. I clenched my fists, feeling my bruised knuckles protest. But beneath the anger was a bone-deep fear that threatened to consume me.

I sat with my back against the passenger door of Piper’s SUV, trying to get my shit together. The parking lot was quiet, save for the sound of sirens in the distance and the occasional car pulling in or out. I couldn’t face going back inside yet.

Not in the state I was in.

I pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering over Wolverine’s contact. If anyone could talk me down from this ledge, it was my old man. But I couldn’t bring myself to make the call, not with two years of silence standing between us.

Seconds later, my brother Teddy’s name flashed across the screen. If it had been the first time, I might have been spooked by his timing, but he’d been calling several times a day for months now. We hadn’t spoken since Levi’s visitation, and as the night had ended with me on my back in the funeral home parking lot and blood streaming down my face, I wasn’t eager for a repeat.

Instead of answering, I scrolled through my camera roll until I found an old picture of Levi, taken when he wasn’t much older thanAvery. His tiny-toothed grin stared back at me, reminding me I hadn’t been there when he needed me most.

The fear returned, coiling around my chest until I could barely breathe. I hadn’t been there for Avery’s first breath or her first smile. I was a year late to my own daughter’s life. An entire years’ worth of moments, gone in the blink of an eye.

Time I would never get back.

What if I fucked up everything else too?

Part of me wanted to go back to the hotel and hop on my bike, riding until the roar of the engine drowned out the chaos in my head. Wasn’t it what I’d been doing for the past two years—running from everything?

I let my head fall back against the door with a thud, thinking about my own father. Wolverine wasn’t only the founder of the most powerful club in the state and the toughest son of a bitch alive, but he was a pretty kick-ass dad too. He’d not only taught us how to fight but how to know what was worth fighting for.

My old man sure as shit wouldn’t have been sitting alone in a parking lot feeling sorry for himself when his family needed him.

Fuck.

My family.

The words felt foreign—like they belonged to someone else. Someone better. Someone who deserved them.

I hauled myself to my feet, swiping the moisture from my face with a shaking hand.

Instead of heading back to the emergency room, I wandered over to the gift shop in the main building. I passed colorful balloons floating above elaborate floral arrangements, greeting cards for every occasion, and enough snacks to feed the entire club.

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