Page 25 of Ryder's War

Shoving everything into a large bag, he glanced at the doorway to find Tiffany standing there. Giving her a slight nod, she accepted the invitation and came in to help. Tossing several hundred-dollar bills on the table as they left, Ryder let the staff know the baby would be on vacation for a few weeks.

The problem presented itself when they got outside. Reaching the car, Ryder realized they didn’t have a child safety seat. “Shit, we’ve gotta stop at the very first place that’s open and get a car seat,” he said as they piled in and hit the road back toward the clubhouse.

“Mine is in my car back at Devil’s place,” Abby announced.

Disregarding how little help that information was, Ryder asked the more pertinent question at hand. “How did you keep him from knowing about the kid, again?”

Frowning, Abby pulled the drowsy child closer. Ryder was certain she hadn’t meant to admit to having the child’s safety seat around Devil and his MC brothers.

Her voice was shaky when she mumbled, “I had my mother until a few weeks ago. She passed away, and I was relying on paid caregivers. If I’d had access to my phone, I might have been able to arrange something. Then again, maybe not. I’ve been struggling.” Looking out the window, her gaze swept the darkened streets. “Where are you taking us?”

“Where in the hell do you think?” Ryder barked.

Tucking her child close, she whispered, “Back to my cell.”

“Hell the fuck no, my friend’s kid is not going to a place like that,” Ryder nearly shouted, startling her, but he didn’t give a goddamn. “Darkness wants to see his child.”

Tiffany stated quietly, “It’s not visiting hours.”

Funny. She said that as if she thought he actually cared. “Fuck visiting hours. If my brother wants to see his baby, he gets to see his baby. The hospital can just deal with it.”

“He’s in a private room now. I’ll talk to them,” Tiffany offered.

Ryder glanced her way, his tone softening. “Do what you can, babe. If my brothers have to talk to them, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

Reaching over, she threaded her fingers with his. “I’m sure that I can work something out.”

It didn’t take long to reach the hospital, and as soon as the elevator doors opened, Tiffany made her way to the nursing station.

Ryder texted Darkness that they were coming, and he was sitting up on the side of the bed, fully dressed when they arrived. Ven and Hickory were waiting inside the room, and there were two prospects milling about just outside his door. Wrapping one arm around Abby and her kid, Ryder eased them into the room.

With laser focus, his prez’s hardened gaze landed on the two at his side. Ryder had seen that look before—when Darkness was sizing up threats or marking targets. But this time there was something else there too, something raw and hungry that had nothing to do with violence. “You got what’s mine?”

Suddenly timid and off-balance, the woman nodded. “She’s yours, I promise, babe.”

“Bring her to me, now,” Darkness commanded.

Shuffling across the room, Abby bent over so he could see the sleeping child. Darkness sent a questioning glance over the woman’s shoulder at Ryder.

Feeling put on the spot, he nodded. “When you see the eyes, you’ll know.”

He looked a touch suspicious, but hell, who wouldn’t be, given the situation. “Give her to me.”

“You can’t hold her, babe. Not with your injury still healing,” Abby tried to say, but Darkness wasn’t the type of man to be coddled.

“I can.”

Holding out the arm on his good side, he met her eyes with a hardened stare that brooked no argument. Ryder and the other brothers in the room watched as Darkness allowed his ex to tuck the child into the crook of his arm. Moving it slightly, he tested the weight of her.

“She’s tiny for a four-month-old.”

Abby’s head snapped up to look him in the face.

Darkness stared into her eyes. “That’s how long it’s been, thirteen months since we were together last in Shreveport. Thirteen minus nine is four. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Shaking her head, she whispered, “You’re not wrong.”

“You kept my child from me.” Rather than accusing, his tone was flat and disbelieving.

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