Page 12 of Harley's Hex
“Always,” he agreed. “Let’s get our bags upstairs and then, I’m going to meet with Bowie and see what needs to be done around here.”
“Okay, I can be ready to talk with him in ten minutes,” she offered.
“Um, no,” he said, “you’re on bedrest until your cracked ribs heal, remember?” She remembered, but she was hoping that he’d forget. It was one of his stipulations to let her come home before she had fully healed. She promised to be on bed rest, and he promised to keep her in the loop when it came to what was going on around the bar.
“Well, how about you join me in bed then and keep me company?” she asked.
Hex chuckled, warm and deep. “Trust me, I thought about it.” He leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him pressed up against her. “But you need your rest, and I’ve got to get caught up around here if I’m going to have anything to report back to you.” Oh, he was good at this negotiation thing. Either that, or he knew her better than she thought he did.
“You’re good at getting your way, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Now you’re figuring things out. I’m good at that and a whole lot of other things that I’d be happy to share with you once you are properly healed,” he said with a devilish grin.
Harley’s lips twitched. “Maybe I’ll let you show me all the things you are good at when I’m better,” she said, keeping things playful between them. It was good to feel like her old self around Hex again. A few of the days that she spent locked up, she worried that he’d want nothing to do with her for getting herself caught by the Dead Rabbits. She was an idiot for allowing herself to be caught by them. But he hadn’t pushed her away, and for that, she was thankful.
He smirked, brushing his forehead against hers. “Good,” he said. “’Cause I’m not letting go of you anytime soon.” For a long moment, they just stood there, foreheads touching, breathing in the aftermath of chaos, their connection pulsing like a live wire between them, and Harley was sure that neither one of them would last until she was healed—but the game that they were currently playing was fun. The bar was noisy again with laughter, music, and the hum of life—but all Harley felt was Hex.
She tilted her head, daring, playful, and he responded instantly, leaning in just enough to make her heart race. “Welcome home,” he murmured against her lips. Harley smiled, letting the tension melt, letting herself fall into him. And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, they both knew that the fighting, the danger, and the chaos—it had all led them right back here, to each other.
The electricity between them was undeniable, teasing, intimate, and full of promise. They didn’t need words—not yet. The night was theirs, and so was the unspoken understanding that neither was walking away. Savage Hell had never felt more like home.
The quiet of Huntsville felt heavier than usual. Harley sat on the edge of the bed in the small room over Savage Hell that she shared with Hex. They had decided to move into the bar together, and that worked for her since she hated going back to her aunt’s house. It never felt like home, and in such a short time, their little room had become that for her—home. Harley was pretty sure that had everything to do with the sexy biker who shared the space with her.
Months had passed since the chaos in Yonkers. The adrenaline of being rescued had faded, as had her bruises and injuries. They had both settled into everyday life. But now, a new fear had taken root. She’d been feeling off for weeks, dealing with fatigue and nausea. They were just the kinds of little signals she couldn’t ignore. And now, the evidence was undeniable—she was pregnant.
At first, she thought that she was just dealing with the aftermath of everything that her body had been through, being kidnapped by the Dead Rabbits. But her ribs healed, as did the rest of her, and she couldn’t go on pretending that the nausea and fatigue were remnants of her injuries. So, she called Brandi up in Yonkers, swore her to secrecy, and begged her to help her figure out what to do next. Of course, Brandi told her to go to the pharmacy and pick up a few pregnancy tests. So, she picked up four two-packs and took all eight tests at once, erring on the side of caution. Brandi assured her that wasn’t necessary and that eight tests were overkill, but she told her new friend that overkill was her new name.
Of course, they all turned up positive, and while Brandi told her not to panic, she did. How could she not? Her chest tightened as she thought of Hex. How would he react? How could she even tell him that she had somehow gotten pregnant during their first night together? She was on the pill, but being kidnapped by the Dead Rabbits had her missing a few doses, and by the time she got back to Huntsville and her prescription, the damage had been done—if she could consider a baby with Hex as collateral damage.
Harley heard the door to their room open while she was tossing the tests into the garbage can in the bathroom. She was trying to hide the evidence, not that it would matter just minutes from now. She tried to steel herself, but when Hex walked intothe bathroom, that easy grin on his face, something broke inside her.
“Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “You look upset. Everything okay? Did one of the guys do or say something to upset you? Because I’ll beat down anyone who’d dare.”
Harley swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making the words impossible to get out. She shook her head faintly. “None of the guys did anything,” she whispered. “I—Hex, I need to tell you something,” she said finally, voice trembling. “I might be—I might be pregnant.”
The smile fell from his face instantly. The warmth and the steady reassurance were both gone. His jaw tightened, eyes darkening with worry and something else she couldn’t name.
“Pregnant?” His voice was low, but sharp. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I took eight tests, and they were all positive.”
Hex ran a hand through his hair, pacing, and muttering under his breath. “This isn’t—I mean, we’re not ready for a baby. I’m not ready for this, Harley. We’ve barely settled here, and we’re living above a fucking bar.”
“I know,” she said softly, trying to bridge the space growing between them. “I just—I needed you to know. I wasn’t sure how to do this—any of this, and I’m fucking it all up.”
He looked at her, panic flashing in his eyes. “I can’t do this, Harley. Not like this. Not now.”
Her heart sank. She should have expected resistance. She should have known he would feel trapped, but hearing it spoken aloud cut deeper than she’d imagined. “I—I can’t stay here,” she whispered, voice breaking. “I need to figure this out on my own. I need room to think.”
Hex’s hands shot out, but she stepped back. “Where are you going?” he asked as though he suddenly had a right to know.
“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, tears blurring her vision. “I just—I need space. I can’t stay here and watch you shut down. I have to leave.” She turned and grabbed as many of her things as she could, quickly grabbing and shoving them into an oversized shopping bag. Harley found her purse and her keys, knowing that she might not be back in a while. If she had forgotten something, she’d buy it or figure things out on the fly, but standing there, watching Hex come apart at the seams, when she needed him to be strong for her, wasn’t happening.
Before he could grab her again, she swung her bag over her shoulder and walked out, the door closing softly but with a weight that echoed through the tiny apartment. Her only saving grace was that Hex didn’t follow after her. Outside, Harley melted into the shadows of the early morning streets, heart pounding with each passing mile that she drove out of town. She was going to stop at her house and pick up a few more things, and then, she’d figure out her next move. She didn’t bother telling anyone where she was going. If she told anyone at the club, or even Savage, they’d tell Hex, and she didn’t want that. She needed to think, and that meant she needed a clear head. Having Hex around would only muddle her brain, as he usually did. She couldn’t see past the rose-colored glasses she seemed to wear around him, and that wasn’t going to help her situation.
She had no plan. Only one truth—she needed to figure out her shit, and fast, before everything else—Hex, the baby, and the life they could have had all spiraled out of reach. For the first time in months, Harley was alone, scared, and running. Not from danger this time, and not from chaos, but from the one person she loved most—Hex.
The ride from Huntsville to Yonkers had been long enough to think herself sick. By the time Harley pulled into Reacher and Brandi’s driveway, her body was shaking from exhaustion and nerves more than from the cold.
