“Man, I didn’t do anything!” Travis begs. Wilder is holding him down by his neck. He walked in to the sight of me crying and Travis telling me he was sorry.

“What happened?” Wilder asks me. He is shaking with anger.

His loud voice makes me sob harder. “He ate my Hershey bar.” I bury my face in my hands. I just can’t seem to stop crying.

Wilder roars with laugher and lets Travis go.

“You’re crazy,” Travis whispers under his breath.

Satan takes over my body, and my head whips up to Travis, whose face is pale. I glare at him. “I will not make you food anymore.”

He pales further. “Joslyn, I am sorry.”

“Don’t ‘Honey’ me!” I scream and scramble off the couch to the kitchen. Today has not been my day. I have morning sickness and my back hurts; then he ate my candy.

I just started crying and I don’t know why, but now that it is over I feel a lot better. Honestly, life has gone back to normal. The cartel has kind of slipped off the radar, but we have not let our guard down.

I get the food I just cooked out of the oven: three plates of steaks and fries with a side of veggies. I set my and Wilder’s food on the coffee table, and I catch the look on Travis’s face. I suck in my lips to hide my laughter; he looks like I kicked his puppy.

I go back and grab his plate, and I roll my eyes at the sight of his hopeful expression. Travis is like my younger brother; I love him so much one second and, the next second, I want to hurt him. I do consider Travis my brother. He comes over every day, along with my dad and Tristan. My dad also comes to every one of my ob-gyn appointments, and every day we get closer to the birth of our baby.

Darla is the mom I never had, and she has been there for me through every part of my pregnancy. I am still new at this, and I am scared half the time. I run into something unexpected, and it scares me to death. Darla is always there to talk me down, reassuring me. Wilder is worse than I am—never come to him with questions, or I’ll be dragged off to the hospital.

Which did happen. I told Wilder I was a little dizzy, and he carried me to the truck and took me to the hospital. Then he told everybody that I was at the hospital, and twenty minutes later half the club was there. I thought poor Darla was going to fall over.

I hand Travis his plate, and he smiles at me. See? You have to love him. I plop down on the couch next to Wilder, who has already cut up my steak.

I stare at the wall, collecting myself. “Wilder, why did you cut up my steak?” I ask calmly and Travis laughs.

Wilder laughs. “I was afraid you were going to cut yourself,” he confesses and I just melt into a pile of goo, even though what he did is strange. He is over the top, but that’s Wilder.

If I have a little boy, I just know he’s going to be a little Wilder, but I secretly hope I have a little girl. I want to see her drive Wilder crazy.

Nausea hits me all of a sudden, and I put my plate on the coffee table in front of me. “What’s wrong?” Wilder asks.

I shake my head, because I am afraid if I talk I am going to be sick. My stomach turns once again, and I jump off the couch and hurry to the bathroom.

I bend over the toilet, throwing up everything I have eaten all day. “Fuck, Baby,” Wilder whispers harshly and pulls my hair back into a bun. I sit down on the floor, my head resting on my forearms. My body is hurting at this point, and I don’t want to mention my head. I take the washcloth Wilder hands me and clean my face, only to get sick again.

“Oh God,” I whisper, my eyes closed.

“Let me take you upstairs.” He lifts me off the ground, and my head falls to his chest. I try not to think about my sick stomach.

“Travis, call the doctor and have him come here. I believe she has gotten the bug going around.”

Oh God, I surely hope not. I don’t need the flu on top of being pregnant—the stomach flu at that. Wilder hurries up the stairs, and I smack his shoulder. I am already sick again.

He sits down on the floor with me in his lap, and I try to push him away, not wanting him to see this.

“Don’t even try that shit with me, Joslyn.” He gently sets me on the floor; then he strips out of his clothes and turns on the shower. He pulls me up. My whole body is shaking and I feel weak.

I have morning sickness and that is not fun—it leaves me feeling weak all day—but this is just horrible. It hit me all at once, but it could also explain why I was so emotional.

He takes off my clothes, and I follow him into the shower. My eyes closed, I get under the spray. It is scalding hot at this point, but I just want to get warm.

Wilder washes me and I just stand there like an invalid. This is so different from my previous life. Whenever I was sick I just slept in the bathroom in front of the toilet, because I was scared to get up and down too much and I had no one to take care of me.

The need to throw up hits me again, and I put my hand over my mouth. Wilder takes me over to the toilet. I still feel the conditioner in my hair.

He pushes a toothbrush into my mouth and brushes my teeth, and I just stare at him. If it is possible I just fell in love with him all over again. “I love you,” I whisper, and my face falls onto his chest. I am perched on the counter.

“Through sickness and health, sweet girl.” He kisses my forehead. “You’re hot, Baby.”

I laugh, my whole body shivering. “I know.” I know what he meant, but I couldn’t resist.

“We’ve got to finish washing out your hair.” He helps me off the counter and straight back into the shower. “Be still, I am going to get you some clothes.”

“Thank you.”

I hear the door open and some cold air comes into the room, making me shiver ten times worse. I am sure this is what hell is. I have a fever, my head is about to fall off of my body, and my whole body hurts—it even hurts to rub my arms—and don’t forget lightheaded because of throwing up.

Finishing rinsing my hair, I slide down the shower wall and sit down on my butt. I don’t want to fall; that is one of my worst fears, that I will fall and lose my baby. I am sure everyone has these fears, but it’s a scary thing. I am carrying a life inside me, and the thought of losing her is scary.

“Wilder ran to the store and got some Gatorade,” I hear Travis say, and I smile and bring my legs up, resting my head against my knees.

I hear someone walk into the room, and I look up to see Wilder, who is now dressed. He reaches into the shower and turns off the water. He reaches in and wraps his hands around my forearms, lifting me gently. Once he is sure I am on my feet, he wraps the towels around me before sweeping me off my feet.

He carries me into the bedroom and sets me on the edge of the bed. The cold air is a lot worse the moment we walk into the bedroom. I shiver even worse if that’s possible.

He slides my panties up my legs, then my pants, and throws his shirt over my head. Don’t cry, Joslyn. A hairbrush is in his hand, and he brushes my hair.

“Whatever did I do to deserve you?”

“You were born, my sweet girl, you were made for me. You’re mine and I will take care of mine.” My bottom lip quivers, and I cover my face with my hands. My heart feels like it’s about to burst.

“I love you,” I manage to choke out. “God, do I love you.”

He kisses the side of my head. “Love you too, Sweetheart.”

My stomach churns again, and I run to the bathroom.

This happens over and over, until the doctor shows up twenty minutes later. I’m covered up in the bed, with only my head peeking out, when he comes into the room with a bag. He’s a club doctor—it happens to be Konrad, much to my surprise. He doesn’t look like a doctor. “I heard someone was sick.”

“Hey,” I croak out, my teeth chattering. My wet hair isn’t helping.

Wilder tells him about all my symptoms, and Travis hands me a Gatorade. I reach out for it, but my hands are shaking so bad I am sure I will spill it.

Travis opens it for me, slips in a straw, and lifts my head so I can take a sip.

“Thank you.” I touch his hand, getting his full attention, wanting him so see how sincere I am.

“Wilder, here are her meds, and here is the dosage and something to help her stomach.” He hands him a piece of paper.

Konrad turns back to me and touches my forehead. “You’re hot.” He places a thermometer under my tongue, and it beeps a few seconds later. “One hundred and two.” He stands up. “Give her some broth and pump as many fluids as you can into her. She will be lightheaded so don’t let her walk alone. I can already tell she is dehydrated.”

At that Travis walks over and gives me more Gatorade.

“Thank you, man.” Wilder shakes Konrad’s hand.

“Call me if she worsens.” He leaves and Wilder walks over with my meds. He lifts my head and gives me a pill along with some liquid medicine. Then he holds out the Gatorade for me, and I chug the rest of it down. He hands me the remote and I turn on the TV; the first thing on is Jersey Shore. I laugh. Wilder hates that show more than anything, and I love to tease him with it. Right now I have the constant urge to throw up, but I manage to hold my medicine down.

“I am going to go make you some broth.”

“Already on it!” Travis yells, and Wilder just climbs in beside me instead.

“Wilder, I don’t want to make you sick,” I tell him when he pulls me against him.

He glares at me. “If you’re in bed with me, then I am going to be holding you.”

I scoot over. I just want him right now, and I don’t even care that I stink. “You’re so warm.”

“I wish I could take your sickness from you.” He moves my hair over my shoulder, and his fingers trail down my back.

Thirty minutes later Travis walks in with a bowl. He sits down on the edge of the bed, and Wilder lifts me up so my back is against the headboard. I reach for the bowl, but Wilder takes it from him. “Open,” he says, bringing the spoon to my mouth.

“You guys are so nice to me.”

Travis laughs and Wilder rolls his eyes. “Open.”

I eat as much as I can before the sickness becomes too much.

“Sleep.” He covers me up and turns off the TV.

My body sinks into the bed, exhaustion finally taking its toll. I have no energy. Wilder wraps his arm around my waist, warming my back. My feet are like ice so, like any woman, I press my feet against his legs.

“Mean ass.” He chuckles.

I cover my laughter and, closing my eyes, I drift off to sleep.

* * *

Two days later I feel much better, and now it’s time to find out the gender of the baby. Darla is here with us, and I know I’ll be kidnapped after this because I am allowing her to plan my nursery.

“Alright, let’s see what we have!” The doctor moves the Doppler over my stomach, and Darla is almost nose-to-nose with the screen.

The baby pops up on the screen. “Well, we know what you’re having. He is letting it all hang out.”

He?

“He?” Darla screams.

“Fuck yeah!” Wilder says, kissing me hard.

Two little Wilders running around, Lord help us all. I grin at the sight of Darla hugging Wilder; she is so happy. I am so happy. I have a baby boy inside me, a baby that I am going to spoil.

Darla jumps up. “Time to go shopping!”

We arrive at the baby store an hour later. A son—I am having a boy—and thank God because I am not sure how I could handle having a daughter, especially if she ends up like Joslyn, because she is an angel.

My son is going to be the next generation of the MC. He can become and do whatever he wants, but the MC will always be a part of his life.

We all live very well. We busted our asses to have close to fifty thriving businesses, and that means we are set for life, along with our kids.

Walker meets us at the store, because he wants to be a part of this event in Joslyn’s life. He may not have been there for her growing up, but he wants to be there for the baby.

We walk in the store, and Joslyn closes her eyes as the cold air hits us. The Texas heat is fucking scorching outside.

“Oh my God.” Joslyn rushes out, her eyes lit with pure happiness, taking in all of the baby stuff.

She is my world—my life never began until I met her. I was just going through the motions of living my life.

She changed me the moment I saw her.

She hid her face, hiding her smile, trying to blend in with her surroundings, but little did she know that she could never hide from me, because that’s when my life began.

You don’t know what is truly missing until you find the missing link—and that was my heart, which is this small woman.

“Look!” Joslyn touches my shoulder and motions to the cribs.

“Come on, sweet girl.” I lead her to the crib sets, and she goes straight to a black wooden crib. “This would be so pretty with gray paint.”

We picked out the crib, the bedding, the changing table, and the bassinet, which I will have in the bedroom with me and Wilder until the baby is older. It will make it easier for me in the first months.

Wilder spots the car seats and inspects every single one of them, finding the one with the most safety features.

“I need a base for my vehicle.” Darla puts an extra base in the cart. She is planning on babysitting any time she can.

Walker grabs one for himself, and I laugh at them. We could have just moved one from vehicle to vehicle.

“Oh look!” Darla motions to a baby swing that moves like a mother does. Wilder picks it up and puts it in the buggy. “You need one of these too.” She throws in one of those pillows that wraps around you to help hold the baby. “Look at this stroller!” She points to one that matches the bedroom suite we picked out. Walker puts it in his buggy; we have three rolling around right now. Darla has one, and Wilder and Walker each have one.

For the next two hours Darla insists, “you need this” and puts it in the buggy. I am loving seeing her enjoying herself so much.

I stare in shock at the price of everything. I knew babies weren’t cheap, but we haven’t even gotten to the baby clothes, wipes, and diapers. That is something that can wait for another time.

“Next we plan your baby shower,” Darla whispers, and I look at Wilder, who is just amused about everything going down.

I want to breastfeed if it’s possible, which is why I’ve skipped the bottles so far, but I will get some in case I can’t. I also saw a formula dispenser that I want to get.

Ringing up all of this stuff, I am once more reminded of how blessed I am with the family I have.

“Wilder, want to get some greasy diner food after this?” I ask hopefully and he laughs.

“Sure.”

I look at Walker and Darla. “You guys want to eat with us?”

“Sure, I am starving.” Walker does that man-nod thing they all seem to have down pat.

My phone rings, and I see it’s Brittany. “Hey girl.”

“Joslyn, I need help.”

I smack Wilder’s arm, and he snaps to attention. “What’s wrong, Brittany?”

“The cartel is following me.”

“Here is Wilder.” I hand the phone over, and Darla grips me, her face pale. Walker is basically standing on top of me and Darla, ready for anything.

“Call the guys and tell them she is heading straight for the club. Three loads of cars are following her, numbers unknown.”

Darla grips me tightly, her whole body shaking. “Come on.” Wilder motions for us, and he pulls Darla and me close to him as we follow Walker, who is still talking on his phone.

“Wilder, you need to be there. I got the girls,” Walker informs him. Wilder looks at me, undecided. “She needs her brother.”

Wilder helps me into Walker’s truck, while Walker loads everything up. “Go to my house and lock everything down.” Wilder kisses me deeply, and I want to grab him and not let him out of my sight.

I can’t be selfish, no matter how much I want to be. He needs to be there for Brittany. “Where is she, Wilder?” I ask him, breaking the kiss.

“She is twenty minutes out. She was coming from Raleigh. Derek should be meeting her right about now. She wasn’t supposed to go out alone, she fucking knows better. Love you, sweet girl.” He kisses me one last time; then he walks away.

Taking my heart with him.