“I want to do this now, but I expect you to wait outside. I don’t pee on command. And definitely not with an audience.”

I frown and roll my eyes, stepping back when I realize I’ve followed her into the restroom stall of the grungy gas station bathroom. Molly still doesn’t believe the test results in her bag. I’m not an expert on women, but who in hell takes a pregnancy test and forgets about checking the results for two weeks? That’s her explanation? And when it turns up positive, who the hell believes it’s wrong and drops the issue? Molly has never lied to me. She didn’t come out and tell me about Jett, but I have to set aside her recent pattern of keeping secrets and trust her. It the only reason I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt right now.

This gas station is the first store on the way home. She demanded that we stop here to buy a test. Inside, she bought two, and now, she’s ready to pee on a stick so she can prove me wrong. Dammit. Part of me wants to be wrong too. She’s on the pill, but we’ve fucked bareback for months. Something tells me that I knocked her up. I just know it in my hard-as-nails, sinful, kinky soul. Or maybe that’s just the caveman in me, looking to feel virile for spawning my seed in her.

If she is, the kid is definitely mine.

I know it for a fact, and although she’ll never admit it, Molly has only been sleeping with me all this time. She believes I’ve been whoring myself out enough for the two of us.

Of course, she’d think that.

That’s been my line.

My lie.

My ego.

I’m the asshole who preferred to downplay how important she is to me. I’m the prick who waited this long to tell her she’s mine. I’m the fucker who wants to run like hell and leave her in that bathroom stall.

The same way everyone who mattered to me left. Or died.

I won’t do something so heinous to her, or to my unborn child. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit the urge to run is strong.

My thoughts return to Molly. She’s dead silent in the stall.

Unbelievable.

Un-fucking-believable.

How long would it have been before she figured out she was carrying a kid?

My kid.

If I didn’t spot the discarded test, would she be busting at the seams with a baby bump the size of a basketball before she admits it?

This is it for sure. Life as I know it is done. Everything will change as soon as this baby comes. I’ll have to step up and be a father. Fuck…a father? Daddy? Papa? Dad? Christ, no child should ever have me as a parent. The kid can easily be fucked up with mental problems out the ass just from my genes, never mind from being around me.

Will. Not can. The kid will…

I kick the trashcan in the corner outside the bathroom stall. Crouching to the floor with my head in my hands, I watch as pieces of garbage spill all over the ground as the round can rolls around me.

Molly makes a noise on the other side of the stall door. “I can’t do this… I can’t look.”

She can’t look? How will she handle carrying a baby and raising one if she won’t open her eyes? Is this how it went down with the first test too? I hang my head between my knees, slowly letting my ass hit the disgusting floor. My life is over. No more fun, no more living it up. I’ll be switching my little black book to keeping a little black onesie and a spare diaper in case of accidents. My lack of sleep now won’t be due to too much partying. Eight or however many months from now, it’ll be on account of too much pooping and teething and night feedings.

It’s too late to have an out, but I want one.

As I think it, I wonder if this is how my biological father felt when he found out about me. I have no idea who he is. No fucking clue. He could be the fucking owner of this gas station for all I know. Or that douchebag organizer at the fight club. Or Dean fucking Roman, President of the Mongols MC, just like Axe likes to suggest.

A kid deserves to at least know the people behind the last name he’s given.

Behind me, Molly steps out of the stall and makes a painful groaning noise, somewhere between a strangled sob and a gasp. I get to my feet. My fingers clench into fists at my sides.

“Oh Christ…no…no…” she mutters.

I can’t look at her now. Not while she falls apart because she’s carrying my baby. It must be fucking hell on earth to know she’s knocked up with hell’s spawn, but shit, does she have to sound like she’s dying? Her sobs are extra loud thanks to the bathroom acoustics. I’m so numb I don’t think I can unfreeze my legs and take the three strides needed to go to her side and comfort her if my life depended on it. Besides, I really fucking doubt she wants me to touch her right now.

“It’ll be okay,” I say, and the words sound as dull as speaking underwater. The words are hollow to my own ears.

“I’ve got to take another test. These two must’ve expired on the shelf,” Molly says between her panicked cries.

“That’s test number two and three. They all say the same thing, but if you want another test, I’ll get you one.” I stumble back to the gas station concession area and find another test. Hell, I pick up two again. She’ll probably want another. After paying, I take them back to her, passing them over the stall door so I won’t have to open the door and see the fear and pain in her eyes. She snatches it from my hands and is silent for a few minutes.

“I can’t pee. I’m out. Let’s just get back to the clubhouse. I’ll check it then. Crap, I need a drink. Shit! I can’t have a fucking drink if this is really happening. Gawwwwwwd…all that alcohol I’ve been drinking…”

She really bawls.

I dig my nails into my palms until stabbing pain washes up my forearms. It’s time to man up and own up to my mistakes, and from the sound of Molly’s sobbing, she agrees. This news is a life-changing, wrecking ball of a blunder.

“I won’t hide this from Silas and the brothers when we get back.”

This way we can confront what she really feels so she won’t need to be in denial. It’s better to get this out in the open. She needs time, but I’d prefer to know where her head is at so I can harden myself to the truth.

She’s in denial because she doesn’t want a baby.

She’s panicking because she loathes that it’s mine.

“Okay. I agree,” she says, stepping out of the stall.

“Ready to go home?” I smooth my hands down my jeans and look everywhere but at Molly.

“Home?”

“I meant the clubhouse. My place.” I blindly reach an arm out, offering my hand now that she’s in a family way.

“I just puked a little in my mouth,” she announces and grasps my hand. “I have to tell my mother.”

“Right. Okay.”

* * *

Let’s just add horrible at my fucking job to the list of things wrong with me too.

I speed past the road sign about five minutes from the clubhouse. On our way out of the bathroom, I found a note taped to the gas tank of my bike. I only saw it under the light of the gas station, which is fucked up because I’m sure it wasn’t there when we left the fight club. The note is from Molly’s ex. Jett’s message says he’s been watching us and isn’t keen on how much time we’re spending together.

I went apeshit, searching the parking lot and looking around everywhere, but turned up nothing. At that point, Molly just wanted to go home. I couldn’t blame her at all. I want to punch something. The idea that he’s been close enough to catch is bad enough. And he’s touched my ride too? I should’ve done more. Maybe I could’ve found the bastard where Molly works. I let him slip through the cracks.

I park in a spot close to the clubhouse entrance as we arrive in the parking area. Turning off the bike, I help Molly off. Her hands are shaking. I lead her inside and don’t let on that her world has shattered into eight million pieces.

Because of me.

But at least one of us needs to be cool. If anyone looks at Molly, they’ll know something’s up. She looks like hell after that girl-fight, and now this.

“How do you want to do this?” I ask as we step inside.

“Rip off the Band-Aid.”

I eye the bar, intent on getting epically shitfaced after we tell the guys. Once they know, especially their old ladies, I can take a load off my mind. The less I remember about today, the better.

“Hey, look who it is,” Axe calls out from his spot behind the bar. “We were wondering if trouble found you. Any updates on the sick son of a bitch stalker yet?”

“We have all sorts of news…actually,” Molly says and takes a seat at the bar.

I immediately notice her staring longingly at the sack demons’ drinks. I think of the whiskeys she downed earlier and hope those didn’t already fuck up the kid. Fuck, that’s a sobering thought. If this is really happening I need to do a lot more research.

Axe notices the bruises on Molly’s face. “The fuck? Did your ex do that to your face?” He turns to me. “If I was the sole owner of our security firm, I’d fucking fire you on the spot. You let someone do this to her?”

“It’s not Tate’s fault,” she tells him. “This one’s all on me.”

“You had one job,” Axe says to me, ignoring Molly. “One fucking job.”

“Just pass me a drink and get the brothers out here.” I motion for the whiskey bottle in his hand. This is no time for moderation. He slides over the whole bottle. I knock back long gulps of the liquid. We’re about to share the kind of earth-shattering news that warrants less mental alertness.

Ten minutes later, Silas, Cole, Dean, and Axe are looking at Molly and me, waiting to hear what I have to say. A few of the officers and members gather around.

That doesn’t stop Molly from blurting shit out.

“I’m pregnant…” Molly throws it out there into the room. No taking it back. She rips that Band-Aid off, just like she said.

“That’s one way to do it,” I mutter, taking a huge burning gulp from the bottle.

The room goes dead silent. It sounds like the music stops too. I can’t tell if anyone moves an inch while I nurse my whiskey bottle.

“Is this some kind of practical joke you two came up with on the ride home?” Cole asks. He’s skeptical enough for the whole room. “You people woke me up for this?”

“This is no fucking joke. She’s carrying my kid,” I answer.

Cole hits the top of the bar with the flat of his hand. “Okay. Congratulations.” He starts walking back to the stairs.

Silas squeezes my shoulder. “Congrats, Daddy… and Mom-to-be.”

Silas spreads his arms and Molly climbs off the bar stool. She sinks into his chest, clinging to my president. I quickly let go of the glass before it shatters in my hands.

“What’s going on down here? It’s like someone died…” Silas’s mother, Cindy, comes down the stairs and I know in one glance she’ll have more to say than everyone else does. Especially after that threesome. Then again, Molly can deliver the news. It’ll probably go over better, woman to woman.

“I’m pregnant,” Molly announces again and takes a sip from the bottle of water Axe gives her.

In one second, Cindy leaves her spot at the bottom of the stairs and in the next, she’s reaching for Molly’s throat. “You man-trapping bitch!” she yells.

Silas leaps up and holds back his mother while I move in and stand between the ladies. I never saw that coming, not from Cindy.

She tilts her body to the side to get a look at Molly around my torso. “It’s easy to snag a man, honey, but getting knocked up? That’s desperate. You’re using the oldest play in the book, and after all this time I figured you’d come up with something more original.” Cindy reaches for Molly again. Silas picks up his mother and carries her off to separate them.

“I’m going up to the guest room,” Molly says. “But I’m really tempted to find my way home.”

“You’re not safe there.”

“And after this shit Cindy just pulled, I’m not sure how much safer I’ll be here. I don’t want to sleep with one eye open.”

She has a point.

“Cindy doesn’t live here. You know that. She’s probably staying the night for some other reason.”

“Well, this is more her home than mine. I’ve never seen her behave that way toward me. Since when did she think you and her were a thing?”

“First of all, we’re not a thing. Second, I don’t know what her deal is.”

“Whatever.” She shrugs off my arm around her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this overprotective boyfriend turned expectant father routine.”

“Whatever you want, Molly.” I back off but it stings like a knife to the gut. It isn’t supposed to be this way. Fuck if I know what way it’s supposed to go down. I’m not expecting an overnight miracle, but I didn’t think she’d turn this cold so fast.

I walk her to her room and she slams the door closed, shutting me out. If she pushes the issue tomorrow, I’ll take her home and be her bodyguard from wherever location she wants to be. I won’t insert myself into her life if she doesn’t want me there—even if my gut is saying different.