Page 44 of Devil's Dilemma

“And,” she continues, “Mo adores babies. If she knows there’ll be another on the compound, she’ll be over the moon, and might just overlook the reason why she has to be here.”

Vi might have a point.

Saying she’ll give me some space, she gets up and leaves. My natural impulse is to keep my news to myself, but she’s right. I don’t have a man to share my excitement and fears with. Perhaps this is a different situation. I could tell my mom, but a long-distance phone call isn’t a satisfactory way of doing that, and would leave me open to questions I don’t have answers for, like is Skull excited about the news? Coming clean, at least to the club who’ve apparently adopted me as one of their own, might just make things a little easier.

And, if the worse happens and I lose the baby, which isn’t unheard of in the early weeks, I will need support.

“You okay, Mel?”

I glance up at Pyro’s deep voice and watch as he takes the place so recently vacated by his prez’s wife. “You were right.”

“Yeah?” He waggles his eyebrows. “Usually am, darlin’.”

I curb the impulse to swat him. “About coming to the club. It's better than being alone with my thoughts.”

His chin dips then rises. “That’s why I love this life. If I’m angry, I can rant to my brothers. Spar with them to lose the physical rage. Unhappy? There’ll be someone with a shoulder to cry on, metaphorically speaking,” he adds fast. “I’m a man after all.”

Another small smile curves my lips. If I was alone at home, I’d be weeping and bemoaning my fate. While here, Vi’s being practical, and Pyro’s doing his best to make me laugh.

I can’t help getting my own dig in. “And if you’re horny, there are the sweet butts.”

His eyes widen. “You did not just say that Mel.”

Oh, I think I did.

His face is blank for a moment, then he laughs loudly. When he stops, he grows serious again. “Want to go get your bags unpacked and settled?” Without waiting for my answer, he stands and holds out his hand to help me up. Then, when I’m on my feet, abruptly let’s go. “Come on, then.”

It seems he intends to escort me.

“It’s okay, I know where I’m going.”

“Er, about that, Mel. You’re not staying in Skull’s room. As everyone has had to come to the compound, we’ve been moving people around.”

“Oh?” I’d like to protest. I like the thought of staying in my man’s bed, even if he’s not in it with me. But if he hadn’t disappeared, neither I, nor the club, would be in this mess. So I settle for, “Where will I be staying then?”

“In my room,” he says, adding fast before I can object, “but notwithme. I’ll be elsewhere.”

I glance up at the man so much taller than Skull. He wasn’t kidding about people being moved around. It seems lockdown is putting him out, and under the circumstances I can’t complain.

The only room I know is Skull’s. I’ve no idea where Pyro’s is, so I let him lead me up the industrial metal staircase, taking in the doors along the corridor off to the right and the left. Something looks different. I stop when I see what it is. All the door handles are now upside down.

“Er,” I speak, my voice making him stop. “Is this some new club fetish? A charm against evil spirits, perhaps?” It reminds me of stuff I’ve read about the Winchester House where it was built deliberately to confuse.

“What?” Then he notices where I’m pointing, and again, laughs. “Nah, that’s to stop Bitch getting into the rooms. Darn cat can swing on the handles to open them.”

I know that. Skull had always locked his door to keep her out. Once when he’d forgotten, he’d asked me to lift her up and carry her out.

“Yeah,” Pyro continues with his explanation, “our new VP got them turned around as one of his first jobs.”

I spare a longing, lingering glance at Skull’s door, as we pass. Pyro notices, for a second his hand squeezes my shoulder. Then, two doors down, he opens another. He’s right that the handles have only been changed recently, it seems to take him a moment to work out how the mechanism now works.

“Fuck.” He swears as he opens the door. “Sorry, Mel. Give me a sec.” He rushes in, picking up bundles of clothes from the floor and moving, well, I don’t know what it is, but it looks like part of an engine.

I notice his saddlebags containing my stuff have been placed on his bed. I step toward them.

“Prospect brought them up. I’d have tidied if I’d remembered, well…” his voice trails off. I don’t need the explanation he’s an untidy man.

But it doesn’t take long for him to make the room cleaner, most of the clothes go into a linen basket. He opens the closet and nods. “There’s some space to hang your clothes, just push mine aside.” Then he moves to the drawers and starts emptying one. “Will this do, for now?”

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