Page 57 of Gatling
“Now look who’s hamming it up. Would you forgive me if I got you a big bag of lollipops now?”
He feigned a dismissive sniff.
“Nope. I don’t hold grudges.”
I laughed.
“Liar.”
A comfortable silence settled between us again. I reached out and took his hand.
“Thank you. For everything.”
Noah smiled softly.
“You’re welcome, butterbean. Now, I should go call Ryker. I haven’t seen him since he went looking for you. But he…he should be here, now that you’re awake. You two have a lot to talk about.”
Ryker didn’t answer his phone. Noah called three times. I called five more times.
No response.
By the end of the day, I was released from the hospital and allowed to go home. To my surprise, Noah didn’t object when I asked him to drop me off at my apartment.
“I suppose you’d like to have your own space back again,” he said.
“It would be nice,” I agreed.
He paused, considering, as he turned onto the main road.
“I guess that’s understandable. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I sighedwith a faint laugh. Some things never change.
Glancing down at my phone, I saw the last text I’d sent to Ryker.
I’m pregnant.
There was still no response.
Where is he?
“Hey, Noah,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Can we pay a visit to the Blackjacks clubhouse?”
A muscle twitched in Noah’s jaw but he didn’t protest.
“Do you think Ryker will be there?”
“I hope so,” I replied. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
Noah nodded and altered his route. When we arrived, it was late afternoon, and the parking lot was nearly full. Voices emanated from inside, and it sounded like a party was going on.
Mustering up every ounce of courage in my body, I took a bracing breath, and pulled the door open. Noah was right behind me, like a shadow, or a guard dog on patrol.
Nearly a dozen bikers filled the room. Some gathered at the bar for drinks and a meal. Others played pool or cards. The cloying scent of cigar smoke and beer hung in the air. A jukebox played quietly in the corner.
