Within minutes she is out. Walker turns out the light above her, and we sit across the room with Mom. We have a suite booked because I wanted to make this as comfortable as possible for her.

“Why don’t you guys go get some sleep?” I ask them. We got to the hospital at three o’clock yesterday, and now it’s 7:00 a.m.

My mom hands me Mason, who is asleep, and I lay him down in the hospital bassinet. They walk out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. “Wilder?” Joslyn calls out.

I push the baby’s bed over to hers. “Yeah?”

“Lay with me?”

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper, so I don’t wake Mason.

“Push the other bed beside mine,” she suggests, like I would fucking tell her no.

I push my bed across the room and lower the rails on her bed. I move Mason to the other side of my bed. She is lying on her side, her hands tucked under her face, her whole body fucking shaking again.

“You cold, sweet girl?”

She nods, and I walk over to one of our many fucking bags and take out another blanket we brought from home, plus one for Mason. This room is like a block of ice. I have fucking asked them, over and over, to turn the temperature up in the room, but they aren’t allowed to do that. I am one second away from buying a heater.

I cover Mason up with the small blanket and climb in bed with Joslyn. I am fucking tired. She scoots over until her head is lying on my chest. I wrap the blanket around both of us.

I am fucking tired. I have not slept in what seems like days. “Sleep while you can before the nurses come in here.”

My eyes snap open instantly at the sound of Mason crying. Wilder is already taking him out of his bed. I push the button to lift the head of my bed.

“Here, let me hold him.”

Wilder hands him to me and fixes a bottle for him. “Shh,” I whisper to Mason, rocking him side-to-side, but he is not a happy camper.

Wilder climbs back in bed beside me, handing me the bottle. Mason latches on like he is starved to death. I laugh, and Wilder strokes his cheek “That’s my boy.”

I roll my eyes and a nurse walks into the room. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take him to the nursery while you sleep?”

I shake my head. “No we are fine, thank you.”

Wilder tightens his grip on me, and I can tell he does not like the idea of Mason not being with us. It freaks me out badly to think of him all alone, away from us. I would not be as worried if he were with family. I do know that the MC pulled a lot of strings and paid a lot of money for us to be able to do what we want in this situation.

“Let us know if he has a bowel movement.”

Wilder turns on the lamp by the bed, because the room is dark once the door is closed.

“What time is it?”

He takes out his phone. “Eight o’clock.” He groans. We only slept an hour.

I burp Mason and press a pacifier into his mouth. “Lay him back down?”

Wilder lays Mason down in the bed and covers him up with another blanket. “I am telling Travis to bring us a heater, this shit is ridiculous.”

I cannot bring myself to argue, because I guarantee it’s probably like sixty degrees in here.

We lie back down and sleep until Travis gets here. Travis sets a box down on the ground. “Hey, Sweetheart, how are you feeling?”.

“I’m okay, just tired.”

Wilder takes a heater out of the box, plugs it in, and turns it on.

Mason wakes up screaming once again, and Travis picks him up gently, as if he’s held a lot of babies. “Shh.” He rocks him side-to-side, putting the pacifier back in his mouth.

“Why don’t you guys get some sleep? I will take care of him,” Travis says.

Wilder looks like he wants to say no, but he is just as tired as I am. “Alright.” He climbs into bed with me. God, he is so warm. His chest is like a heating pad.

* * *

“There is something wrong with your son,” Travis says; then I hear a retching sound. I open my eyes to see Wilder and Travis both bent over the bed, changing Mason’s diaper. Travis is holding the baby’s legs, his face pressed against his shoulder, gagging loudly. Wilder throws a wipe in the garbage, gagging more loudly than Travis.

Wilder punches Travis on the arm. “My son is perfect, shut the fuck up.” He goes back to cleaning.

“They need to change your milk or some shit,” Travis tells Mason. Wilder glares at him and Travis just rolls his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re going to wake Joslyn.”

Seeing things like this reminds me how blessed I am. I know a lot of women have men who would never change a diaper.

Wilder puts a diaper on him, and Mason starts fussing, his hands waving angrily in the air. Mason has a small bit of dark fuzz on top of his head, just enough to let me know that he has Wilder’s hair color. My hair is light brown and Wilder’s is much darker.

Wilder stares down at Mason like his world begins and ends with him. I can see the love all over his face as he wraps Mason back up and cuddles him against his chest. Mason’s eyes are open.

He is such a beautiful baby

“Good, you are awake,” Travis says, startling me.

Wilder looks at me, smiling. “How are you feeling, momma?” My stomach does a little flip hearing him call me that. “We have some breakfast for you,” he says, and Travis puts a tray in my lap and takes off the lid. Inside is pancakes, bacon, and the works. I also notice the room is a lot warmer now, thank goodness.

“Thank you.” I grab my fork and dig in. I’m starving. I haven’t really eaten since I got to the hospital. When you’re in pain it’s really the last thing on your mind.

Once I’m done, I put the tray on the table next to the bed. “Let me have my son.” I wave my fingers at Wilder, who sits down and hands Mason to me.

“He is so perfect,” I whisper, staring at him. It’s so hard to believe I carried him for nine months and he is here. “Three more.” I look at him wickedly.

He laughs, and he grips my face and kisses me hard on the lips. “I will enjoy making those babies.” He winks and I roll my eyes.

I open the blanket, looking at all of Mason’s little toes and fingers. I touch the center of his palm, and his hand closes around my finger.

“I love you, Baby.” I lean my head against Wilder’s shoulder. He wraps one arm around me, and the other is resting on Mason.

Our little family.

Walking downstairs, I see Wilder perched on the couch with Mason. Wilder is such an amazing dad. He gets up with him throughout the night—he is very hands-on.

It takes a bit to adjust to having a baby when you’re used to being alone together, and to get used to a schedule. Wilder’s mother is a huge help with the baby and with any questions we may have. She is over every day because she is so in love with Mason.

I just had Mason a week ago, and Wilder is already counting down the days until I can have sex again. Sex isn’t on my mind. After having an eight-pound baby come out of your vag, it’s the furthest thing from your mind.

“Sweet girl, want me to go get dinner?” Wilder calls loudly, not knowing I am directly behind him.

I tiptoe over and cover his face with my hands. He jumps and glares at me. I pout, like he hurt my feelings.

“Don’t do that pouty shit with me.” He pulls me down on the couch next to him and puts Mason in the bassinet, which he carried downstairs.

Leaning closer, I put my mouth next to his ear. “If you get me some Mexican I will pay you back later.” I lick the side of his neck.

His face darkens, and his hands clench my thigh. “I will be back.” He almost runs out of the house.

My phone rings while I am on the way to pick up our dinner. “Yeah?”

“Get to the club, now.” Lane just fucking hangs up.

This means one fucking thing—the cartel is back. I pull over on the side of the road and shoot Joslyn a text telling her that I had club business and will be back a little later; then I haul ass to the clubhouse.

Arriving at the clubhouse, I see everyone is already there. Brittany is in the room where we have our meetings, looking scared.

What the fuck? Did they try following her again?

Walker slams the door shut once I am inside. Everyone is on edge wondering what the hell is going on. I have prospects outside my gate, and my house is on full lockdown right now—nobody can get inside.

I do not take any chances, not anymore—not when it comes to Joslyn and Mason.

I sit down at Lane’s right, and he looks at Brittany. She looks at the ground, and Derek looks pissed the fuck off. “Lane, tell me what the fuck is going on?” Derek says through clenched teeth.

“Brittany got a letter today that arrived here at the club.”

We all stiffen, and Lane opens the letter. “We can end all of this now. I will leave your town and never bother you again if you give me what I want.”

He crumples the letter as he continues reading. “If you hand over Brittany Bennett, she has piqued my interest. You can hand her over and end this, or I take her and I won’t be nice about it.”

The room is so quiet. All of us are staring at Brittany, who looks defeated. I’ve only seen her look that way once.

Derek looks like he is about to explode.

“Signed, L. Gracia.”

Derek slams his hands on the table and pushes himself up to his feet. “Let me take her to my cabin in the mountains. Let me hide her.” He clenches and unclenches his hands, looking at the ceiling. “He will not fucking have her, I will kill every single one of them!” We’re in shock because he doesn’t speak often, and it seems the only time he does is because of my sister.

It could be fucking worse. I can tell that he cares about her, but I also want to kick his ass for looking at my sister that way.

Brittany stands up and fixes her clothes, looking straight forward with her chin up. Derek walks over to her and grabs her face between his hands. “You are leaving with me, do not fucking argue.” Derek looks at Lane, who nods, giving his permission. Lane looks at every single person in the room. This shit means one thing and one thing only.

War.

We will not be defeated. We have one thing those fuckers will never have. We have family, and we will do anything and everything to protect what is ours.

“We fight, we kill, and we show them exactly who they fucked with!” I yell, slamming my hand on the table. The other guys do the same. Lane grins at me and I grin back, because it’s time to rain hell on these fuckers—it’ll be hell on earth for them. We are not to be fucked with.

Right now, it’s time to go home to my wife and son, but them? May you rest in motherfucking pieces.