Page 72 of The Heart We Guard
“Not really, but let’s get this over with.”
Butcher takes my hand and rubs his thumb over my knuckles. “I like having you on the back of my bike, Doc. You ride well. Come on inside. I want to introduce you to the men, so they know you on sight.”
My stomach flips. “On sight, as in, they won’t shoot me if they know I’m not trespassing?”
Butcher chuckles. “You’re being dramatic, Greer. Given killing someone means life in prison or death row if you’re caught, we don’t kill anyone for kicks or without good reason.”
“But you admit you kill people?”
Butcher stops and looks at me with a grin on his face. “I plead the fifth. But, if I ever did, they’d deserve it. It’s gonna be fine. Come on.”
“For the record,fineis not a particularly reassuring word.”
Jackal and Shade catch up to us, and I look over my shoulder at them.
“Thank you. For helping us out.”
“Anytime,” Jackal says, but I notice the way his eyebrows raise when he sees Butcher is holding my hand.
The clubhouse looks more impressive than it did at night. One of those very traditional thick log cabin styles, but the size of a golf clubhouse. When we step inside, it’s cool and dark. There are windows, but they aren’t particularly big, and my mind runs riot trying to figure out if that’s because they’ve taken medieval castle mentality, and made them harder to fire arrows, or in this case, bullets, through.
The first person I see is Smoke, the man who left Butcher in my car. His hair is longer, a little wilder, and he seems surprised to see me. “Doc,” he says, with a nod of greeting. “What are you doing here?”
But I can feel the eyes of others on me. There’s a man with long white curls, his hair not a million miles from the color of my own. His mouth drops open a little, until the tall and burly man in a plaid shirt and Stetson nudges him in the ribs.
The woman stood next to the man in the Stetson eyes me cautiously. She crosses her arms.
If this were a movie, the loud rock would have stopped and some gunslinger soundtrack by Ennio Morricone would be playing.
Butcher whistles so loudly behind me that I jump. And just like that, the music does stop.
“Brothers and others. This is Dr. Greer Hansen. She’s the surgeon who saved my life and kept my ass out of prison.”
Randomly, there’s some applause. A couple of men at the bar bang the bar top. And even the woman next to the man in the Stetson relaxes a little.
Butcher walks up behind me, and like a dog peeing on a lamppost, puts his arm around my waist, his palm right on my lower abdomen. Then, he kisses the side of my temple. “She’s also under my protection and carrying my kid.”
The silence is absolute as my eyes widen.
The woman stares at me, the surprised expression in her eyes likely matching my own, and then she marches from the room without a word.
Stetson guy shakes his head. “Low blow, Butcher. That’s not how you make an announcement like that.” He storms after the woman who just left the room.
I turn to Butcher in shock. “Just.I’mjustpregnant. Like, six weeks. It’s way too early to tell people.”
Butcher shrugs. “How the fuck am I supposed to know that?”
“Everyone knows that,” the guy with the blond curls says. “There’s a high chance of losing a baby before twelve weeks, so you keep it to yourself.”
I glance in the direction the woman just went. “Is that woman an ex? Is that why she stormed off? Shit, I knew we should have had a broader conversation before I came here. I’m not going to tolerate you sleeping with other women.”
Butcher shakes his head. “It’s not like that. That was Ember, my daughter. I didn’t know she was going to be here and didn’t notice her until she walked out.”
Shit! Ember. How could I have not considered it was his daughter, first?
Smoke joins us and surprises me by hugging me before shaking Butcher’s hand. “Congratulations. Glad I don’t have to kill you.”
Butcher steps in front of me. “You threatened her?”
