Standing in the living room, I stare outside. The storm did a number on the city. There’s dust all over the streets and signs down everywhere. The sun is high in the sky; it looks hot outside. My skin chills from the air conditioner and I shiver. I want to be outside where it’s warm. I want to feel the sun on my cheeks. I sigh and turn to find Mac sitting on the couch, drinking a beer with his computer propped up on his ripped jeaned legs.

“Can we go to the pool?”

He scoffs but doesn’t reply.

“I’m serious.”

His eyes lift over the screen of his computer, clearly annoyed at my persistence.

“Yeah, because last time we left this room, it went so well.”

He has a point, but that was all him, and the way his eyes dart back to his computer I can tell he’s remembering him going all protective-boyfriend on that creepy guy.

“What are you doing on there that’s so important anyway?” I lift my chin to his spaceship looking laptop.

He takes a large gulp of his beer.

“Stuff,” he clips.

Lifting my foot, I nudge his boot off the coffee table.

“Tell me, or I’ll just keep asking.”

He groans, setting his beer down.

“Studying algorithms.”

I raise a brow. “Why?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” His line so cliché I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Ok, James Bond.”

He chuckles, running his hand through the hair that’s fallen in his eyes. The way his face lights up is contagious, so I grin.

“Let’s just say I’m trying to find a futile future for the club’s customer network.”

My eyes rise with appreciation. Mac really is a smart guy, he could be on Wall Street or something if he wanted to.

“How’d you end up in a biker gang? You could do anything you want with those kinds of skills,” I blurt my curiosity.

Mac bites his cheeks, his eyes looking to something in the distance.

“Because no nine to five desk job would ever be home to me. Not like the Sin City Outlaws. Plus, I’m pretty sure they’d frown when I stole money from them because I was unhappy with their shitty pay. Besides, what fun would it be to play by the rules of a company when I can break so many and get away with it on my own.”

He lifts his brows at me, and I have nothing in reply. See, smart guy.

“Why don’t you do real estate or some shit instead of giving the country the fuel it needs to flare up illegal gangs around the states?”

My mouth parts, him knowing what I did before… before this, it’s surprising.

“What, you didn’t think I did my research on you, Princess?” He tilts his head to the side, his face smug. “The Ray family is practically the Native American mafia.”

I lift my chin, proud of what my family and I have accomplished.

“What fun would it be to sell a house unless it was a grow house. I couldn’t make the kind of money I did following Uncle Sam’s rules.”

“Exactly.” He points the barrel of his beer bottle at me.

I tilt my head to the side, curious about this man more than I’ve ever been curious about anything.

“How long have you been with the club?” I press.

“Long time,” his tone dry. He’s done divulging any further information.

His hands go back to click-clacking on the keyboard, and my boredom returns.

Hand on my belly I rub it in a circular motion. “Either you take me to the pool, or I’m going on my own,” I state, not done with my conversation. “Everyone will see you trying to tug a pregnant woman in distress back to your hotel room,” I continue.

He slams his laptop down and rolls his eyes. “Damn it, woman, why do you have to be such a pain in my ass.” The sentence draws out, really indicating how much I’m irritating him.

He stands, pulling his phone from his jeans.

It takes everything I have not to giggle. Being annoying to him really does entertain me.

“I guess I could use some fresh air too.” His brows scrunched together, he turns, hushing demands into his phone.

Biting my nail, I wait for him to finish his call.

Sighing, he tucks his phone back into his jeans pocket.

“Find something to wear, you got ten minutes at the pool and then it’s back in here and you stop annoying me.” He points at me, his face serious.

I squeal with excitement and waddle off to my room. I don’t have a swimsuit. Not anything even close to one, so I head over to Mac’s room and open his drawer. He has a wife-beater shirt and a pair of drawstring shorts. I snatch them and put them on in his room. The shirt stretches over my belly bump just barely, and I have to double tie the shorts to make them fit, but they work.

Grabbing a towel from his bathroom, which is much bigger than mine. He even has a damn tub. I head back to the living room.

“I’m ready!”

He stalls, his eyes widening. I look down to see what he’s staring at.

“Shit.” I cross my arms. My nipples are hard, dark, and showing through the thin material like tractor beams. I forget how big my tits have gotten being pregnant.

“You are not going out there like that.”

I scowl at him. “No shit.” I shake my head and go to my room to find a bra.

Finally, after shoving my tits into a sports bra, we head out into the hall and go down to the fifth floor. When the elevator doors open, the entire hallway seems empty. Where is everyone? Mac opens a glass door, and we step inside, the smell of the pool close by.

We pass lockers and an empty desk with towels sitting on the counter before going outside to empty loungers, lifeguard chairs abandoned, and the pool crystal clear. The only sign of life is the vibrations from the speakers playing “Love Gun” by Kiss.

“Where is everyone?” I ask. I was hoping to watch some kids splash around, or some drunk people make a fool of themselves.

“You’re not to be seen, remember? Zeek made that abundantly clear, so”—he shrugs—“I just informed everyone it was time for maintenance and now you got thirty minutes.” He juts his chin toward the pool. “Go wild.”

My heart flutters at the thought he went to such great lengths to appease me wanting a little fresh air by the pool.

“You did all this for me?” I mutter. He doesn’t reply, just struts by me and sits on the concrete next to the crisp looking water. He tugs his boots and socks off and rolls his jeans to his calves. Watching him, he dips his bare feet into the water and swishes them around.

Fuck, why is Mac with rolled up jeans, in the sun, so sexy.

“You going to stare or join me?” he asks without looking at me. I clear my throat and saunter over to him.

Placing my hand down, I try and carefully sit down, but it’s a process that is embarrassing and just plain fucking tiring. I can’t get any bigger, I swear.

Finally, after sitting my ass down, I take a deep breath and plop my feet into the crisp water. Coldness wraps around my legs and soothes my cabin fever, and the warm sun kisses my dark braided hair. I close my eyes. This is nice.

“Better, Princess?”

“Mmm,” I hum. “I’ve never been much of a pool person,” I confide.

“Just today, when we’re trying to keep you from a psychopath?” Sarcasm drips from his voice.

“Yep,” I sass.

He kicks water at me, and I squeal as cold droplets soak my shirt. My mouth drops in dismay and the baby kicks at my sudden excitement.

“You asshole!” I splash water back at him, and his eyes widen that I retaliated.

Just when we begin to have a full out splash war like a bunch of little kids, the doors to the hotel open, the sound of stomping boots grabbing our attention. Mac stands, pulling his gun from the waistband of his jeans.

My heart skips a beat, seeing him go from normal to lethal in a matter of seconds. I didn’t even know he had that on him.

“You want to explain to me why you cleared the entire pool deck for alleged maintenance?” The familiar sound of Zeek has me suck in a tight breath. Shit, we’ve been caught.

“Fuck man, you scared the shit out of me.” Mac lowers his gun. The sight of him in his rolled-up jeans, wet bare feet, and sunburnt shoulders does things to a hormonal pregnant woman. Zeek marches farther out onto the concrete patio where I can fully see him. His large shoulders barely containing his leather cut and ripped up shirt. His dark eyes narrow in on me, and I raise a brow in response.

“Needed some air, thought if I took the risk of someone seeing us away, it’d be fine,” Mac continues.

Zeek nods, running his hands through his hair. His eyes closing as if he’s trying to be understanding.

“Doc from the Devil’s Dust is here to see Simone, check out the baby and shit,” Zeek explains with a husky voice. I didn’t see Doc for the pregnancy at The Devil’s Dust. Kane was very protective and didn’t let me around the club much. Especially when I started showing.

“Okay,” I nod, pulling my legs from the water.

Mac is by my side, his hands on my hips helping me up. Zeek’s eyes flash with an unknown look as he watches Mac helping me up.

Mac and Zeek stare at each other, unspoken words that I don’t understand being spewed at each other. I can only imagine what Zeek thinks of me. Probably a club hopper, or whatever Mac called me when we met.

“She’s waiting, let’s go.” Zeek turns, stomping off toward the entry doors.

Mac places his hand on the small of my back, and my entire belly fills with butterflies. The baby kicks, noticing the emotion this man is stirring inside of me.

I palm my belly, silently telling little one not to get attached to Mac Daddy. Not yet.

Being hidden from any wandering eyes, I feel like the President of the United States as I’m escorted back to the top of the casino. The elevator takes us to our room, the cliché music doing nothing for the tension in the small space.

Zeek glares at Mac, and Mac sneers in response.

Zeek leads the way to the suite, and we follow quietly. Not that Mac has to say anything, his tense shoulders are raised, his chest puffed, and jaw flexed.

Inside our suite, Doc is setting up a tall looking machine in the living room; a black duffle bag on the coffee table. I haven’t seen her in what seems like forever, but she still looks as I remember. Blonde hair up in a ponytail, dark blue shirt fitting her curvy-self perfectly, and a pair of dark jeans to match. Even out of scrubs she looks like a doctor though.

She turns to our entering and smiles brightly.

“Hey guys, I just finished setting up. Simone, why don’t you lay down?” she suggests, her hand waving above the purple couch.

Giving Mac a look, I clear my throat and head toward her nervously. This is the first ultrasound, one to tell me if I’ve been doing my job as a mother right. Sitting down on the plush fabric, I can’t help the anxiety building inside of me as I lay down.

“There won’t be any records or anything of this happening, right?” That was the whole reason Kane wouldn’t let me have much intervention as far as being seen by doctors. He was protecting me and the baby.

“No, this is all portable, and won’t sync to anything. I will delete all images and information after this visit. One hundred percent confidential.” She nods confidently, looking to Zeek and Mac to assure them.

“Why’d you have her come all this way when we have our own doctors?” Mac asks dryly.

“My brother Lip from The Devil’s Dust assured me it—”

“After I heard what kind of chaos Simone was in, I wanted to help. I told Lip to call Zeek and offer my services,” Doc informs, not taking her eyes off her setting everything up. It takes me aback.

“Thank you,” I whisper, grateful she’s here. I feel like I can trust her, I’ve heard and seen her work on members of the club. She’s loyal.

Her eyes meet mine and I swallow the lump in my throat, she gives a tightlipped smile and sits next to me, grabbing my hand firmly.

“I knew you were pregnant, but I assumed you were getting care elsewhere.” She sighs heavily, and I nibble my bottom lip nervously. “I really wish Kane would have come to me about this. If he would have just told us what was going on, we could have made sure you had the best care. Plus, if there’s anything I’ve learned from being with The Devil’s Dust, it’s covering things up is a piece of cake.” She grins, and I can’t help but laugh. Who knew she was as dirty as the bikers. “Now, let’s see that baby, hm?”

Sighing with some relief, I get comfortable and adjust my head to where I can see Doc. She squats next to me, pulling the pole that has a screen and wand attached to it.

“Where’s your better half?” I make light conversation. I remember a guy named Bobby being with her at the Devil’s Dust. Surely, he didn’t let her travel alone.

“Downstairs playing the slots. He’ll lose,” she arches her brow, and I smile in return.

She lifts my shirt, my tan stretched out belly on display for everyone. She squirts blue looking jelly on my skin, it’s coldness forcing goosebumps to rise against my skin.

“Sorry, they usually have a warmer for these things at the hospital.”

“It’s okay.” I arch my neck to look at the screen, not concerned with the temperature of the gel. Black and white splotches blur across the screen, and she begins pressing buttons on the machine. Everyone’s quiet as they watch and observe; it unnerves me. What is she seeing? Is there anything wrong?

“So, from what I can tell, baby looks like it’s growing perfectly,” she mutters pushing and pulling the wand across my belly. “Now what I’m telling you isn’t one-hundred percent because I don’t have all the tools I would have if we were to do this at a hospital.” she informs.

“Is it healthy?” Mac asks. Looking over, Mac stands behind the couch watching, one hand on his chin as he rests his elbow on his arm across his chest.

“So far so good. Five fingers, five toes.” She zooms in and I see little fingers. I gasp, my hand covering my mouth. Those are real fingers and toes. Oh my God! Doc smiles at me.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” she whispers.

“Is it a boy or girl?” Mac asks, hovering over me. Doc looks at me, her eyes shining.

“Do you want to know?”

I glance at Mac, why do I look to him for confirmation? The thought takes me aback but only for a second because we both smile like fools.

“Yes, I want to know.”

She slides the wand upward and two legs pop up on the screen. It’s so unreal to finally see the baby as a human.

“Looks, like a… It’s a girl!” She beams.

“A girl,” I whisper, my eyes watering. Thoughts of dresses and hair bows fill my head. Will she look like me or her daddy? My skin prickles with excitement, ready to have my little girl already.

“A little girl,” Mac mutters with awe.

“Do you have a name picked out?” Doc asks, looking at the screen.

I shake my head. “No, not yet.”

“It’ll come to you,” she offers her wisdom.

Putting the wand up, she tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and looks at the men.

“Why don’t you guys leave the room for this next part?”

“Why?” Mac snaps, his face of bliss disappearing fast.

“I need to check her cervix, see if she’s dilating and—”

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Mac waves her off, not needing to hear any more.

“Pull your shorts down, babe, I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.” She grabs gloves from a box attached to the pole on the machine.

Taking a deep breath, I reach to each hip and shimmy my shorts and panties to my ankles.

Doc spreads my legs and inserts two lubricated fingers. I look to the ceiling, this is humiliating.

“Any crazy cravings yet?” she tries small talk during this intrusive moment.

“Um, pizza.”

“Pizza?” She chuckles as if that’s not that odd.

“Yeah, there’s a pizza place across the street I’ve been eyeing since I’ve been here,” I explain, my stomach growling thinking about it.

I notice her eyebrows pinch together as I swear she’s digging for gold with her fingers. My toes curl, and my teeth grit as it begins to hurt.

“You said you’re what, seven and half months along?”

“Yeah?” I reply nervously. “Almost eight.”

She pulls her fingers from me and nods at my shorts conveying I can pull them back up.

“What’s wrong?” Mac is back in the room before I can even get my shorts up.

“She’s dilated two centimeters and is forty percent effaced.”

“Ok, what the fuck does that mean?” He shrugs.

“She shouldn’t be showing signs of going in labor this early, to this extent anyway. If she continues to show progress, it worries me that little one is going to try to come early.” Terror wraps itself around my throat that I may go into labor sooner rather than later. She looks at me. “Have you been stressed?”

My face falls. “Really?” That’s a dumb question.

“Well, if we could, I would recommend bedrest at the hospital, but I understand that’s not an option, so I’m putting you on bedrest here in the hotel.”

“Bedrest? As in, I can’t get up?” I’m already tired of being locked up, I can’t sit in a bed for three more months!

“I mean, you can get up and move around, just don’t exert yourself too much.” She looks at the men with a pointed stare.

“What are you going to do when she has this baby? There will have to be public record of it, you will have to take her to a hospital.”

“We will worry about that when it happens,” Zeek replies from the kitchen.

Doc rolls her eyes and begins to pack her things.

“Just take it easy. Okay?”

“Yeah, I will.” I sit up, pushing my shirt down.

“Can we test to see who the father is?” Zeek asks.

Doc sighs, looking at my stomach. “We can, but there are risks.”

“What kind of risks?” Zeek grunts.

“Um, off the top of my head. Ammonitic fluid could leak, and she could lose—”

“No.” Mac stands straight, his shoulders tense. Doc looks at me with wide eyes and hands me a tissue from the box on the side of the machine.

“What do you mean no? If we can find out if the baby is Gatz—”

“There’s fucking risks! No way are we doing it, brother!” Mac’s voice carries through the room. Swinging my feet over the side of the couch, I glare in their direction, angry they are deciding this without me. I am the mother, I should have the say so.

“Can I speak to you in the hall?” Zeek’s brows raise at Mac, his face red.

“Yeah, no problem!” Anger laces in Mac’s voice and he stomps to the hallway slamming the door behind them.

“What do you want?” Doc asks, packing up her equipment.

I flip my hair over my shoulder.

“I don’t want a test, I don’t care who the dad is. The baby is mine regardless, and I love her.” I shrug, the words pouring from my mouth without even having to think about it.

I love my daughter.

“Then I wouldn’t do it then.” She gives a curt nod, and I nod back.

“I’m not.”