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Silence is thick in the room when I close the door.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask Kincaid, unsure if I should sit down or if doing so would only be a waste of time before I get the boot.

“What we discuss in this room is a hundred percent confidential,” Kincaid begins.

“I won’t lie to my girl,” Thumper says, his arms stubbornly crossed over his chest.

“Then you’re excused,” Dominic tells him.

Dominic, Kincaid’s older brother, doesn’t wear a cut, and he’s technically not a member of Cerberus, but he’s been working with the team for decades since retiring from the Marine Corps. He makes a lot of decisions, and although Shadow is technically the vice president, Dominic is the one a lot of the men go to when they need to find a solution to a problem.

Thumper looks between the man excusing him and me several times before he gets up and walks out. He knows better than to argue, and since he’s standing firm in his declaration, he leaves the room.

The door closing feels like the slam of a crypt door, the action sealing my fate.

“Have a seat. There’s no sense in hovering near the door,” Kincaid says as he drops into his chair at the front of the room.

I pull out the chair closest to me, feeling a little awkward because this isn’t where I normally sit when we have meetings, but taking my usual spot puts me further away from the door and that seems like it would be a foolish mistake right now.

Shadow cocks an eyebrow, the computer genius not missing a beat. “You have a bad feeling about this meeting. Tell me why.”

I shrug, swallowing in an attempt to avoid having to clear my throat. Doing so would only give more credit to my discomfort.

“I figure I’m in trouble for making personal decisions that affect the club without speaking to you guys about it first.”

“And those decisions would be?” Kincaid asks, his voice free of irritation and challenge.

“Getting married, having a baby. She doesn’t have to live here. We can move—”

“No one is saying you have to move. It would be unfair for us to allow Cara here and not her sister,” Kincaid offers.

“Especially when love is involved,” Dominic adds.

I resist the urge to clamp a hand on the back of my neck and pull until this entire situation disappears. They know. Of course, they know.

“So you couldn’t get married today?”

I shake my head, answering Shadow. “We got the license, but we have to wait until Monday. There weren’t any officiants available.”

“Waiting is a good thing. It gives us time to talk you out of it.”

My eyes snap to Kincaid. “It won’t work. I’m marrying her.”

“You don’t love her,” he argues.

“There are more important things than love,” I mutter.

“The baby? It isn’t yours.”

I turn into a fish on dry land, my mouth opening and closing without a sound.

“You and Legend went to California at the end of March. She said she was due the first week of December. The dates are off. Please don’t disrespect everyone in this room by arguing. April Gibson was already pregnant when you guys showed up and escorted her to South Carolina.”

“Due dates are—”

“Just an estimate,” Dominic says, interrupting me before I could do exactly what Kincaid told me not to and lie to all of them.

“Is there even a chance?” Kincaid asks, his eyes darting between mine like a human lie detector test.

My hand wins out over free will, gripping my neck until the skin there stings from the action. “A miracle?”

“That consists of what?” Dominic asks, a small smile on his face.

“Immaculate conception,” I mutter.

“You didn’t sleep with her?” Kincaid leans forward, confusion creating a crease between his brows, and it’s clear he didn’t have that part figured out.

I shake my head. “Would it count if I had thought about it?”

Kid chuckles, the first sound he’s made since I entered the room.

“Did you want to sleep with her?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. Fuck, I don’t know. I didn’t like look at her and lick my lips like a pervert. She’s a damn child.”

“She’s legal,” Kid argues, making me feel like an asshole because his start with Khloe was similar. Khloe was seventeen when she came to the clubhouse, and as the story goes, he had to wait—blue balls for weeks or months before he made that woman his.

“I saw her and knew she was gorgeous, but no I didn’t sleep with her. I didn’t flirt with her. I never considered even trying.”

“So there’s absolutely no chance that baby is yours?” Dominic asks, needing a hundred percent clarification.

“Even if we had slept together, I had a vasectomy at nineteen. So no, the baby isn’t mine.”

It looks like I’m just putting my personal business out there for everyone today.

“She wants someone to help raise her baby,” I explain.

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