Page 73 of Piper's Pyro

“Later when? He should know the truth. You saw how heartbreaking it was that Abe missed all of Nova’s firsts. Don’t do that to Russell or your baby.”

“I won’t. I just need more time.” More time to harden my heart before I talked to him. Russell would want to be in his child’s life, and I wouldn’t stand in his way. But I couldn’t be with him if he returned because of the baby.

“Don’t wait too long, baby girl.”

“I’ll contact him when I’m in the second trimester. When I know the baby is okay.” Calling Russell when I was only four weeks along made no sense. The pregnancy might not be viable, and I could miscarry.

Plus, I worried what the news might do to him. If it would send him over the edge. I hated that I worried about him constantly. Wondering if he had started using again or if he’d been with other women.

I also wasn’t emotionally ready to hear his voice.

I’d break all over again.

24

Spectre

The last time I saw my sister, she was heartbroken and bawling over the drummer. Piper didn’t cry easily. And she never bawled.

Last night while on the phone, Cobra told me Piper’s emotional state was nothing he’d seen from her before. Something needed to be done.

So I drove all night from Portland, Oregon, to Pasadena, California, where Pyro lived. I wasn’t sure what I’d say to him. Of all people, I was the last person he would expect to see at his door.

I still didn’t like him.

In fact, I pretty much hated him—no idea why.

The past month I’d learned a little about myself. Nothing earth—shattering or life-changing. But I realized my piss poor attitude had to do with never having a minute to myself. I loved my family, no question. I just wanted to do something for myself and be selfish for once.

I also realized my sister’s happiness mattered to me about as much as my gorgeous Harley meant to me. Maybe even more.

A third element came into play in my reason for coming to Pyro’s.

A baby.

My niece or nephew.

When Lady M had told me Piper was pregnant, I hadn’t thought twice about paying Pyro a visit.

I threw my leg back, got off my bike, and tugged on the collar of my shirt as I headed up the walkway.

A kid needed their father. Piper needed her Pyro.

This would be my one good deed for the rest of my life.

I rang the doorbell and choked down my ego and the judgment lingering on my tongue when Pyro was nearby.

The door opened. I assessed his pathetic, worse-for-wear appearance. If the fucker was high, I’d turn right around and get the hell out of California. My sister’s baby would be better off without a father.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Are you high?”

He slammed the door in my face.

I almost said fuck it and left. “Pyro, open up!” I banged my palm on the door. “Open the door!”

A woman pushing a baby in a stroller went by. She eyed my hog and kicked her pace into high gear.

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