Page 9 of Ace's Legacy
I had given her my number but I never texted back. I stare at the message, at the neatly typed words from the mother of my child. My child. The reality of it hits me all over again.
I'm going to be a father.
The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it does nothing to quiet the voice in my head, my own father's voice, telling me I'm going to screw this up just like he did. That it's in my blood to fail.
But as I set the glass down, a different voice emerges. My own, fierce and determined.
Not this time. Not with this. I will be better. I have to be.
For the baby. For Sarah. And maybe, finally, for myself.
Chapter 4 - Sarah
I can't see the road through my tears.
The emotions I've been holding back for weeks come flooding out now that I'm alone, great heaving sobs that make my whole body shake. I pull over onto the shoulder, unable to drive safely in this state.
He's going to be there for the baby. He promised.
But what does that even mean? What kind of father will a man like Ryan be? A man who gets into bar fights and carries a gun? A man who wears the Outlaw Order patch that has been whispered about in Pine Haven since they arrived a year ago.
I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, trying to calm my breathing. This still went better than I expected, so much better. He didn't accuse me of lying. Didn't tell me to get rid of it. Didn't shrug and walk away.
Yet doubt creeps in like a cold draft. It's easy to make promises now, when the baby is just an idea. But what happens in seven months when there's a screaming infant who needs diaper changes at 3 AM? Will Ryan still want to be involved then?
A sharp rap on my window makes me jump. My head snaps up to see a man in a leather cut standing beside my car. My first instinct is fear. Did they follow me? Do they want something? But then I realize I don't recognize him from the clubhouse.
I crack the window an inch, just enough to hear him.
"You just came from the clubhouse?" he asks, his voice hard and commanding. His dark eyes are cold and calculating as they scan the road behind me.
"Yes," I manage to say, my voice small.
"I'm Wilder." He doesn't look afraid. He looks dangerous, like a predator sensing a threat. "Turn around right now and go back. Tell them Vultures MC are coming. Six bikes, heavily armed."
"What? I don't—"
"NOW!" he barks, his hand slapping the hood of my car. There's no fear in his expression, only deadly determination. "Tell Reaper and Ghost. No one else. Go!"
In my rearview mirror, I catch sight of what has him so alert—a line of motorcycles appearing around the bend in the road, moving fast.
Without another question, I start the engine with shaking hands and pull a U-turn on the empty road, my tires squealing in protest. In my mirror, I see Wilder straddling his bike, facing the approaching riders like some avenging angel.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
The road back to the clubhouse seems longer now, each curve taking an eternity to navigate. My knuckles are white on the steering wheel as I push my sensible Honda faster than it's ever gone.
"It's okay," I whisper to my still-flat stomach. "We're okay."
But are we? I have no idea what's happening, who those men on motorcycles are, or why Wilder looked ready to kill. All I know is that something dangerous is unfolding, and I'm somehow caught in the middle of it.
The clubhouse comes into view, and I slam on the brakes, skidding into the dirt parking area. I don't bother to park properly, just leave the car running as I leap out and run toward the building.
"Help!" I call out, seeing men turn toward me with confused expressions. "Someone's coming! Wilder said—"
The front door of the clubhouse bursts open and Ryan appears, followed by several others. His face goes from surprise to alarm in an instant.
"Sarah? What are you doing back here?" He crosses the distance between us in long strides, gripping my upper arms. "What's wrong?"
