Page 28 of Rogue’s Reckoning

I want to believe her. God, how I want to believe her. But Storm's words echo in my head. We can't ignore the evidence.

"Then explain the meetings with Lochlann," I demand. "Our sources saw you with him multiple times."

Willow shakes her head vehemently. "The only time I've seen Lochlann was at that dinner with Ivy! I swear, Ezra. He creeped me out. I wouldn't want to see him again."

Something in her tone makes me pause. "What do you mean, he creeped you out?"

Willow takes a shaky breath. "At the dinner... he kept asking me questions about you. About your work. He seemed way too interested. And Ivy... she seemed scared of him. I've been worried about her ever since, but she won't talk to me about it."

As much as I’d like to believe her, I’ve been fooled enough.

“Come with me,” I say, my tone brooking no argument.

She gets to her feet, her steps uneven as she follows me to the door. She’s still dressed in her pajamas, shorts and a tank, but right now, I need answers and so does the club.

“Where are we going?” she asks once we’re outside.

“It won’t take us long,” I tell her as I climb onto my bike. Willow automatically follows suit. Usually, I’d make sure she’s safely secured, but right now, I need answers and I’m not going to let my emotions get in the way of that.

Once we’re at the clubhouse, we’ll know for sure what’s going on. No more lies. No more secrets.

EIGHT

WILLOW

I wake with a start, my heart racing. The bedroom is dark and empty. Ezra must have left sometime during the night. Glancing at the clock, I see it's only five a.m.

My stomach rolls with nausea and I take a few deep breaths to try and fight it off. I've been feeling the same for the past week—my breasts are tender, and I'm exhausted. The symptoms have all hit me at once.

With shaking hands, I reach for the small paper bag hidden in my purse. I've been putting this off for days, too afraid of what the result might be. But I can't ignore the signs any longer.

In the bathroom, I follow the instructions on the pregnancy test with trembling fingers, my heart pounding and the nausea intensifying. The three minutes I have to wait feel like an eternity. When the timer on my phone finally chimes, I take a deep breath and look down at the little plastic stick.

Two pink lines. Positive.

A wave of emotions washes over me—fear, excitement, anxiety, joy. Ezra and I have never talked about kids. We've only been together for a few months. It’s way too damn soon. Willhe be happy about this? I’m not even sure what to feel; I can’t imagine what Ezra’s going to feel.

I make my way to the living room and curl up on the couch to wait for Ezra to return. I need to tell him as soon as possible. We have so much to talk about, so many decisions to make. I’m terrified. I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do. I need Ezra.

As I sit there in the dark, waiting on the man that I love, hoping like hell he won’t be angry or leave, my mind drifts to thoughts of the future. A little boy or girl with Ezra's intense eyes and my unruly hair.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I know, Ezra is shaking me awake. Sunlight spills through the room, shining on his face.

"Willow," Ezra says, his voice serious. "Wake up. We need to talk."

I blink the sleep from my eyes, a smile spreading across my face as I see him. "Ezra," I murmur, reaching for him. "You're back. Is everything okay?"

But as I look at him, I realize something is very wrong. His jaw is clenched tight, his eyes hard and angry.

"Willow," he says, his voice cold in a way I've never heard before. "I need you to be honest with me. About everything."

As he asks me questions, my heart breaks. Shatters completely. His lack of trust in me is something I hadn’t expected. His voice is colder than I’ve ever heard. He’s never been this way with me before. I’ve always known that there’s a hidden darkness to him; I just never thought I’d see it.

I cling to his body as we ride. I have no idea where we’re going. I’m scared—beyond that, I’m petrified.

The motorcycle roars to a stop in front of a red brick building on the outskirts of town. My heart pounds as Ezra roughly pullsme off the bike. The building is huge. I see at least a dozen motorcycles parked out front.

"Where are we?" I ask, my voice trembling.

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