Page 25 of Blackout: Book Two

Dropping my hand away from my father, I spin around and face Wolf.

This poor bastard.

He actually believes he’s the one in charge.

Still, I let him lead me upstairs because as much as I hate to admit it, they’re right about one thing, sitting here arguing won’t make anything right. Upstairs, I throw some of my things in a suitcase. A sense of déjà vu washes over me, and I think about the last time I packed a bag and left my house in a hurry. I’d give anything to go back to that cabin with Blackie. It may not have been the perfect scenario but for a little, we were closed off from this wretched world.

Instead of whisking me away to the woods, Nico takes me and Danny to Kate’s. Wolf puts the club on lockdown and soon the bar fills with everyone’s loved ones. My father wasn’t kidding about springing Reina out of the hospital and hours later my role as Danny’s caregiver is stripped from me as she walks into the bar. I learn the reason my father sent Nico to the airport so early that day was to pick up four men from another club. With the help of the Charon MC, the Satan’s Knights piece together information and come to conclusion the Sinaloa Cartel is responsible for the break-in and they devise a plan of action.

Hours go by, day turns to night and while everyone else hunkers down for the night, I pace the floors wondering what any of this means for my husband. The club doesn’t return until the next morning and they only stay long enough to kiss their loved ones goodbye. When they roll out, they’re locked and loaded. A sign of war.

I think about all the times Blackie and I have done this dance.

All the times he’s kissed me goodbye and promised to return to me.

My heart breaks a little more at the realization he didn’t promise to come back the day they locked him up and I wonder if that’s a sign.

I eventually lose track of time and the will to wait around. Excusing myself from the rest of the club, I make my way upstairs and find one of the empty bedrooms. Exhausted, I lay down and close my eyes. I dream beautiful dreams, ones that include my husband.

He’s there in my bed, loving me.

He’s there beside me at the doctor’s office, smiling as we watch our baby grow from month to month.

He holds my hand and kisses my forehead as I bring our angel into the world and he cradles her in his arms.

Beautiful.

So much beautiful.

My dreams are interrupted when I feel a hand gently shake my shoulders.

I open my eyes and foolishly expect to peer into my husband’s soulful eyes. Instead, disappointment hangs over me as I stare at the solemn expression on my father’s face.

He doesn’t have to say a word.

It’s there in his eyes and the more I stare at him the more it begins to register.

My greatest fear has become my new truth.

Swallowing, I place a hand over my stomach and close my eyes.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

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