Page 94 of Biker Daddies

“What?”

“Peas? For your eye,” he clarifies, opening the freezer to grab a small bag before tossing it to me.

I plop it against my cheekbone.

“We look like a bunch of bitches who just got our asses kicked.”

Alto’s voice has me turning my head.

“Jesus Christ, Alto,” Colt hisses under his breath.

He is bruised to hell. His face is swelling so bad I think he might have a broken cheekbone. Both of his eyes are bruised. His lips are busted in two places and he has a smattering of black and blue marks all over his torso.

He took the brunt of Grizzly’s rage. He is the VP, but it was more than that. Out of everyone in the club, Grizzly and Alto have known each other the longest.

“You need an entire ice bath. I don’t think I have enough peas for that.”

Alto and I both laugh at Colt. He’s always trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s fine. It’s my fucking face that hurts the most.” He takes one of the gel masks we keep in the fridge for migraines and he slips it on his head. He sighs in relief. “Fuck, that feels good.” He opens the fridge next. “Beer?”

“Yeah,” Colt states.

“Same,” I echo him.

He slides us each a beer, then pulls out the bottle opener. His bottle hisses first, the cap falling to the floor, but we don’t give a shit about picking it up.

He hands it to me, then Colt, and the first taste of beer hits my tongue and I relax. I take my drink to the living room where the couch is, taking my ice packs with me.

My head hurts and I’m worried about Harlow being over there without us. Is Grizzly treating her fairly? Is he being kind? I swear, he better not put a hand on her or so help me, I’ll fucking kill him.

I chug half my beer and tilt my head back, ready to take a nap when I hear the jiggle of the front door. Someone is trying to get in.

Come on. Can’t we catch a fucking break?

The door swings open and Harlow is standing there, mascara running down her cheeks and keys in her hand.

“Sweetheart.” Alto runs to her, pulling her into his arms.

Colt stows away his gun, hanging his head for a few seconds before he shuts the door, locking it behind her.

“Princess, what are you doing here?” I ask, hoping everything is okay.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I told you, you didn’t have to choose—”

“It’s not that. I didn’t choose. Not how you think. I—I have something to tell you guys. I wanted to do it earlier, but things went to shit,” she curses as she begins to cry again. “And I don’t know how you all will feel. Dad is actually happy, but it only makes him hate you guys more.”

Alto brings her to the living room so we can be comfortable. The three of us sit next to each other and Harlow stands in front us, pacing. She chews on her thumbnail and she wipes her cheeks, smearing the running mascara.

“Harlow, whatever it is, it’s okay. We love you,” Alto tries to reassure.

“I love you all too.” The words become higher as she holds in emotion. “I noticed I was late. Not a lot, but like four days? And I’m never late. Ever. So I took a test and I couldn’t tell if there was another line or a shadow? So I went to the doctor to check and it was positive.”

I blink at her because she rambled so fast I have no idea what she said.

“Sooo.” Colt pats his thighs. “Are you sick? I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

“Ugh! You men need everything spelled out for you. I’m pregnant. Okay? I’m pregnant,” she says, so softly I have to lean forward.