Page 62 of Savage Loyalty

Her voice didn’t waver, didn’t soften. “And do you think raising a baby in the middle of this chaos is any better? You’re so busy looking at everyone else as a threat, Ryder, that you can’t even see the damage your own world does. I didn’t leave to hurt you. I left because I couldn’t watch this life bleed into something innocent. You want to be mad at me? Fine. But don’t pretend this is all on me. You knew what I was walking away from.”

She exhaled sharply as if pushing out the last of her fight. Then her tone shifted, quieter but no less resolute. “And now I’ve told you. I came here to tell you about the baby, and I did. That’s all I owe you, Ryder.”

The words hit harder than I expected, an ache settling in my chest even as my anger simmered beneath the surface. She adjusted her jacket, her hand brushing over her stomach one last time before she turned toward the door. “I’m going back to my father’s house,” she added, her voice steady. “For now. Don’t think this means I’m staying, but if you want to talk—really talk—you know where to find me.”

I watched her walk away, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides. She was leaving me with a storm of unanswered questions and emotions I didn’t even know how to name. But one thing was clear: everything had changed, and nothing about this was going to be simple.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DELILAH

The drive to my father’s old house was quiet, the hum of the engine doing little to calm the storm in my chest. I hadn’t been here in months, not since his death, and the closer I got, the heavier the memories felt. It was the one place that had always been the same. And right now, I needed that more than ever.

Pulling into the gravel driveway, I killed the engine and sat there for a moment, staring at the house. The familiar white siding was peeling in places, and the porch steps creaked under the weight of time. It looked the same but different—like it had aged without him, just like I had.

I stepped out of the car, the chill of the evening air biting at my skin. My hand instinctively went to my stomach, a small gesture of reassurance as I made my way up the steps. The creak of the wood under my boots echoed in the silence, and I reached for the doorknob, the key already in my hand.

But when I pushed the door open, I froze.

Axel was sitting in the worn recliner in the living room, his boots propped up on the coffee table like he owned the place. A cigarette dangled from his lips, the smoke curling lazily into the air. He didn’t even look surprised to see me. If anything, he looked annoyed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice sharp as I stepped into the room. My hand tightened on the strap of my bag, my heart pounding in my chest.

He took a long drag from his cigarette before flicking the ash onto the floor. “Nice to see you too, little sister,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Word travels fast when you’re keeping an eye on the Reapers. Didn’t take long to hear you’d made an appearance.”

I glared at him, my anger simmering just below the surface. “You’re having me followed?”

“We always have someone watching the Reapers,” he said with a shrug. “And you just happened to walk into their clubhouse, so yeah, I heard about it.”

I dropped my bag onto the floor with a thud, my hands balling into fists. “This has nothing to do with you, Axel. You had no right to come here.”

“No, right?” He stood, his full height making the room feel smaller. “You’re my sister, and you’re pregnant with a Reaper’s kid. You think I’m just going to sit back and let that slide? What the hell were you thinking, Delilah?”

“It’s none of your damn business who the father is,” I shot back, my voice shaking with anger. “This is my life, Axel. Not yours. And you don’t get to waltz in here and act like you have a say.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Dad would be rolling in his grave if he knew you’d slept with the enemy. A Reaper? Seriously, Delilah? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

The mention of our father hit me like a punch to the gut, but I refused to let it show. “Don’t you dare bring Dad into this,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “He’s not here, and he’s not you. So stop pretending like you’re the one who gets to decide what’s right and wrong for me.”

Axel’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “You think this is just about you? This isn’t some little mistake you can sweep under the rug, Delilah. That kid ties you to them. To him. And whether you like it or not, it ties you to their war. Do you think Ryder’s going to keep you out of it? You think that kid’s not going to be dragged into their shit the second it’s born?”

“That’s not going to happen,” I said, my voice firm. “I won’t let it.”

“You won’t let it?” He stepped closer, his voice rising. “You don’t get to decide that, Delilah. Not when you’re dealing with a club like theirs. They don’t let go, and they sure as hell don’t walk away.”

I met his glare head-on, refusing to back down. “You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through or what I’m dealing with. So don’t stand there and act like you do.”

“I know enough,” he said, his voice cold. “And I know you’re making a mistake if you think you can keep this quiet. This baby? It’s going to change everything. And not just for you.”

The weight of his words settled over me, but I refused to let him see how much they shook me. “Then stay out of it, Axel. If you think it’s such a problem, then walk away. Go back to your club and leave me the hell alone.”

His eyes darkened, his expression hardening. “You think it’s that simple? It’s never that simple, Delilah. And you know it.”

“Why are you really here?” I demanded, my voice rising as the anger boiled over. “To lecture me? To make me feel guilty for trying to live my life? Or is this just another way for you to twist the knife? Because I’ve had enough of you and your judgment, Axel. I’ve had enough of this whole damn thing.”

He stepped back, his jaw working as if he was holding back a thousand things he wanted to say. “I came here because I care, Delilah because I don’t want to see you dragged down by this. But if you’re so hell-bent on ruining your life, then fine. Do what you want. Just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

The words stung, sharper than I wanted to admit. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it. “Get out,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “This is my house now. Not yours. So leave.”

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