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“Okay. Call me when you can and let me know how you’re doing.”
“I will.”
I’ve always loved watching Mason drive. The way the wheel slides through his grasp as he drives one-handed and holds my thigh or hand with the other. It’s hot. Tonight is no different, only he has me sitting in the middle seat of the truck, and he keeps his hand splayed over my stomach.
“Grumps and Dad would want us to have boys, the future of the club and all that—another generation wearing the patch. But I’d like daughters. It’ll give me justification to shoot the little fucks around town in the future.”
“How about we get through tonight before we think that far ahead.”
His laughter is light, and it pulls me back to happier times.
“We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?” I ask, hating the doubt still poking at me.
“Give me time, and I’ll show you just how fine we’re going to be.” His hand slides from my stomach to my hand, and he squeezes firmly yet softly. “The thing I’m asking you to trust meto keep from you won’t come between us again. After we bury my father, we’re going home, and we’re going to spend the next few months getting our home ready for the babies. We’re going to map our future together and make sure our children have the life they deserve. I won’t let any of you down again. I swear it on my life.”
Another pain radiates across my stomach, and I breathe my way through it until it passes. Mason’s jaw tenses until I smile, letting him know I got through this one.
“Keep talking, distract me.”
“You haven’t asked me if it’s another woman. My secret.”
Christ, this wasn’t the distraction I was after, but it’s definitely working.
“Mason, you’re many things, but stepping out on me never entered my mind. You’re a good man to me, and you wouldn’t do that. Unless this is you about to tell me something I will kill you and her over.”
His chuckle relaxes me into the seat.
“Nah, you’re the only one for me. There’s no one that could even drag me away from you like that.”
“That’s good to hear. Just tell me that whatever you’re keeping from me won’t ever break us. I couldn’t bear it, especially not knowing what it is that breaks us.”
He pulls my hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss upon me. “I swear to you, nothing will ever break us. Not in this lifetime or the next.”
“I couldn’t stand that you wouldn’t talk to me. I don’t want to ever go through that again, Mase. I don’t want our children to experience your coldness.”
I dare not look his way. I didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, I didn’t want to leave anything unsaid.
He squeezes my hand. “I’ve learned my lesson. Though it hurt me to be away from you, it hurt a lot more knowing I wasthe cause. I promise no matter what happens, you’re the first one I will come talk to.”
Another pain rockets across my lower stomach; it takes my breath away, and Mason puts his foot down.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go straight home? The doctor said to rest.”
“The club is home. I promise I’ll take it easy. You need to be around everyone, tonight especially.”
He holds my hand all the way to the club and helps me out of the truck, keeping his arm around me as we walk toward the bar.
I was expecting the brothers to be passed out from too much drink and the old ladies to have gone home. But everyone is sitting around, drinks in hand, listening to the music playing low in the background.
Rudi is the first to approach us, and I give her a slight nod. She takes a deep breath and smiles. “They’re both fine. They did warn me to expect to be uncomfortable carrying twins. Besides, I’m carrying two Simmons, they’re bound to give me trouble.”
Mason snorts beside me and looks around the bar. “Pope wouldn’t want us mourning him. He knew he had our respect. He’d want us looking to the future… always looking to the future, making and keeping the club strong. So rather than sit around feeling like shit, think of the future. Think of us brothers shoulder to shoulder, having each other’s backs, and wearing our patches proudly.” He looks at the prospect. “Make sure everyone has a drink.”
It's not long before the prospect has made sure every hand has a drink in it, and Mason continues, “This will be the last time you fuckers think of him and mourn.”
Mason raises his glass of whiskey into the air, and I raise my bottle of water. Brothers and their old ladies, the club hangarounds, everyone raises their drinks and cheers, “Pope.”
Satisfied, Mason leads me over to Myles’s table and pulls out a chair for me. He moves as close as he can to mine and keeps his arm around me for hours. I’ve been around the Lost Souls in many different situations, but this is sobering.
