Page 103 of Biker Daddies

“Understood, Grizz.”

It’s better than nothing.

“Let’s go home,” Harlow says.

“You’re going to the doctor first,” I say.

“Agreed.” Bane has my six. “We need to make sure you and the baby are okay. The women need to go too.”

Harlow frowns, nodding.

“What is it?” I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

“There was one girl, she got sold before you got here. I don’t know her name.”

“Could you I.D. her?” Poet lifts up files in his hands. “Found these on a table upstairs. They have pictures of all the girls. If you I.D. her, we can maybe track her.”

Harlow nods. “Yes. Yes, that would be amazing.”

“First, hospital. No arguing. We’ll take one of the cars one of these guys had. My bike is trashed.”

I head toward the door leading outside. “Grizz, Bane, Colt, you coming?”

Bane and Colt scoff at the same time, walking side by side.

Grizzly smiles, giving his daughter one last hug. “I’ll stay behind and help the girls here. Clean things up. Looks like you’re in good hands, sugarplum. I’m glad you’re okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy. And I am. I’m fine. And I’m in great hands.” Harlow reaches for my hand and I don’t hesitate to hold her back.

I never plan on letting her out of my sight again.

When I step outside, Bookie and Brander are piling the dead bodies up and they pause when they see me.

“Keep up the good work, guys.” I give them my back to hide the evidence of what they are doing from Harlow. “Sweetheart. I’m going to carry you and you’re going to promise to not look around, okay? Close your eyes and hide them against my chest.”

“Okay,” she easily agrees, yawning, and then begins to sway.

“Princess?” Bane catches her when she passes out and that has us running to the nearest car. Luckily it’s open and Bane climbs in the back with Harlow. Colt gets in the passenger side and I jump in the driver’s seat.

I haven’t done this in years, but I grab the necessary cords under the steering column and press the wires together. The car struggles to start, but eventually the engine rolls over. Slamming the car in drive, I fishtail out of the parking lot and slam the pedal to the floorboard.

The hospital isn’t far.

“How is she?” Colt asks, turning to look over his shoulder.

“She’s fine. She’s breathing. Maybe the adrenaline wore off? She’s had a bad day.”

“I hope nothing is wrong with the baby,” I whisper, taking a left as safely as I can, but I fishtail again. I almost hit the guardrail with the end of the car.

“Don’t say that,” Bane grits. “She’s fine. She’ll be fine. Our baby is fine.”

I don’t know who he’s trying to convince. Me or himself.

“Everyone is okay with that, right?” Colt questions, gripping the plastic handle above his head when I take another turn too fast. “It doesn’t matter who the biological father is? We’re all in this together. When we say she’s ours, she is ours. Right? The kid will have three fathers.”

“Yes,” Bane and I say in unison. “Whose it is doesn’t matter. As far as I’m concerned, we’re family. End of story.” I hope that clears the confusion. “I thought it was obvious.”

“It is, but I was double-checking. I don’t want to wake up one day and find my best friends hate me or the woman I love doesn’t want me anymore because I’m not the father of her kid,” Colt explains.

---