Page 7 of Embracing the Consequences

“Mornin’,” Johnny answered gruffly.

Kara gave a tight smile, her eyes darting between Kevin and Derrick. “I wish you guys had come home last night,” she said softly so only they could hear.

Kevin froze seeing the pain on her beautiful face. Shame and disappointment rolled over him. He had been an idiot for not going home to her last night. He shifted and sighed. “I know. I’m sorry,” Kevin said softly, well aware that this was not the time or place to be having this conversation.

It may have been early in the morning, but there were still eyes on them. People were waking up and heading outside for their morning cigarette. Kevin hated that he couldn’t wrap his arms around her today, hated that society as a whole had issues with polyamorous relationships even if they were becoming more mainstream every day.

“Me too.” Derrick nodded solemnly.

“Tonight,” Kara muttered.

“Tonight,” Johnny agreed and pressed a kiss to her temple. Her sky-high heels brought her closer to his height, but he still towered over her.

Kara forced a smile to her face. She looked between Kevin and Derrick one more time before she turned with Johnny and headed into the clubhouse.

There wasn’t a hearse towing their brother, their president, to his resting place. Instead, an all-glass carriage that looked like something out ofCinderellawas towed by a trike driven by funeral director Nick Barrett, a biker himself and a friend of the club. The glass trailer behind the trike had been his idea several years ago when his own father had passed away.

It seemed like the club had used that carriage all too often since then.

Johnny and Kara rode directly behind the carriage—a lone bike in formation, the spot to his right purposely left open for the ghost rider that would have been Mac. Behind Johnny, Derrick and Kevin rode side by side. The rest of the club and their guests followed in a similar two-by-two formation.

Their caravan was miles long. They had paid the local police to escort and stop traffic as they moved through the city. Over three hundred patched members of the Knights had shown up to pay tribute to their fallen president.

Kara looked every bit the bad bitch that a biker’s old lady should be. She sat proudly behind her man, arms wrappedaround his waist, her blond hair flying in the wind. The corset she wore with that pleated leather skirt, paired with the tattoos and boots, was hot as fuck and showed off what Kevin already knew: she was a fucking knockout.

The ceremony at the cemetery was short and sweet. The priest, a friend of the club, gave a heartfelt eulogy remembering Mac. Johnny stood by and listened, his head down and sunglasses firmly in place, looking as stoic as he could save for the white-knuckled grip on Kara’s hand.

Kara’s tears surprised Kevin, though he didn’t know why. Kara was as compassionate and empathetic as they came. She met Mac only one time, but that didn’t matter because she knew what he had meant to all of them.

Kevin stood on Johnny’s right hand, with Derrick to Kara’s left, the two of them flanking their president and his old lady. The rest of their charter of the Ravager Knights stood around them, both flanking and surrounding Johnny, protecting him from danger even from within their organization.

After the priest was done, Mac’s coffin was lowered into the ground. People threw flowers into the open grave. Some lingered to speak to Johnny, but most headed back to their bikes or vehicles.

Once Johnny and Kara were seated on Johnny’s bike, Kevin revved up his engine. As road captain, it was his job to signal the bikers’ tradition of ringing out the dead withthe last rev. Soon, every single biker, over three hundred of them, was revving their engine in response.

A chill ran down Kevin’s spine as he let off his throttle. One by one his assembled brothers released their own throttles, and the sounds of revving engines slowly faded away until the last one lone biker—the tail gunner—revved his throttle for the final time.

Johnny looked around theclubhouse, taking in all his brothers and friends wearing their cuts with a new black and red patch sewn on, a patch with the skeleton knight now boasting angel wings. There were birth and death dates on the patch along with the wordsIn Loving Memory of Our King.

Those not wearing the new patch had on a T-shirt or an armband with the same logo as the patch. Black and red was everywhere; even Kara had donned the red and black armband throughout the day. His heart had warmed knowing his woman had organized the memorial and ordered the massive quantities of memorial pieces.

He glanced around the room again, looking for Kara. She had stayed by his side all day and evening, had been his rock throughout, only leaving his side to go to the bathroom or grabhim a drink. Now that it was going on midnight and he was ready to head home, he couldn’t find her. She had said she was going to the bathroom, but that was ten minutes ago. After sweeping the room again, he headed toward the bathrooms in search of his old lady.

Cracking the women’s restroom door, he heard her retching before he saw her. He frowned; had she been feeling sick all day? He’d thought she’d been feeling better. Why was she still out if she wasn’t feeling well?

“Kara,” Johnny heard Rachel sigh, “have you seen a doctor yet?”

Johnny stopped dead in his tracks. There was a short hallway before the turn into the main bathroom. He was out of sight for now, but he wasn’t sure why he was hiding.

“No.” Kara groaned, her voice cracking. “I called, but they won’t see me until eight weeks. I’m only six weeks along,” she muttered. “I made an appointment. They gave me a list of shit to not eat and meds to stay away from.” She let out a shuddering breath.

“Did you tell them how sick you were?” Rachel asked.

“They didn’t seem to be too concerned, said it was normal. If I can’t keep down any water throughout the day I can call back. But really, it’s just smells that seem to set me off.” Kara’s voice grew stronger the longer she talked.

Johnny’s heart pounded in his chest, his thoughts whirling a million miles an hour. And yet, he couldn’t seem to comprehend what he was hearing. Was Karapregnant?

“Have you talked to your guys yet?” Rachel’s voice was kind and gentle.

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