Page 91 of The Oath We Take

Over a beer, she asked me about what I said, and I was blunt and honest. I wanna knock her up as soon as she’ll let me. She was worried I didn’t want her to work once she became a mom. But I reassured her I’m not gonna stop her from rebuilding and running her bar, because I trust her that she’d keep her safety and the baby’s in mind. Plus, our baby can come hang out with me in the tractor.

She grinned and told me I had to wait at least a year, but I figure if I start a baby-fever campaign in the new year, showing her cute baby shit and making up the spare room into a nursery, I might be able to convince her sooner.

The mild chub starts to stretch into a full-blown hard-on at the thought.

I’ll build her a stable of her own in gratitude and fill it with horses she loves. I see Lemmy is getting older. Not sure how long Holsteiners live. Twenty to thirty years, maybe. One day, we’ll have to deal with the grief of his passing. I want to make sure she has at least two other horses she loves just as much by then, to help carry her through the enormity of his loss.

The phone rings off, and I feel a moment of relief before it starts ringing again.

Ember’s messy hair falls over her face, tickling my arms.

I thought I slept best out in the open air beneath the stars, but I’m starting to think I sleep best wherever she is.

I snake my arm from beneath Ember so I can grab my phone, wishing I could just shut the fucker off.

“What?” I mumble quietly. Squinting, I see the time is four in the morning.

“You better get your ass to the clubhouse now.”

Butcher hangs up before I have the time to compose an answer.

What the fuck was that? Is the clubhouse under attack?

Has he arranged for some prospects to come and protect the house?

I rub my face aggressively, trying to shake off the dregs of sleep so I can function.

“What’s up?” Ember mumbles.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I have to go. Your father just demanded I get to the clubhouse but gave me no other details than that.”

She rubs her eyes, then sits up. “Do you think he knows about us?”

I have a bad feeling in my gut that’s roiling around, growing in size. “I don’t know, but I’ll let you know what’s going on. More likely an issue with the club.”

But there was something in the way Butcher spoke. I’ve never heard him sound like that before. My gut tells me there is much more to this request.

Fuck.

What if he’s being held against his will there or some shit?

I fire off a quick message to Wraith.

Me:Butcher just told me to get my ass to the club. He sounded weird. Worried there may be trouble. Headed there now.

It’s four in the morning, and if Wraith has half a brain, he’s wrapped around his woman, fast asleep. Just like I was.

While the enforcer part of me is ready to just roll out the door, I pause. Given I don’t know what I’m racing to, I spend an extra moment making sure I’m sufficiently armed. I place my knife on my belt but add a pocketknife to my cut and a small flip blade into my boot.

And for once, I decide to holster two weapons and pack some extra ammo into my pockets. This will all look like total overkill if I arrive there and Butcher has got his panties in a knot over something that could have waited until the morning.

I grab and load a gun for Ember. He’s demanded I go, yet left no details for cover. But she’ll be safe enough here. And to get to her, someone would have to ride right past the clubhouse.

We’ll see them.

I check my phone, and there is still no reply from Wraith.

Which, on second thought, if something were happening to the club, if it were under attack or Butcher was, surely, he’d call his sergeant at arms ahead of his enforcer.

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