“Okay,” I said. My voice sounded flat, even to me. “Whatever you need. Whatever arrangement works for you — I’ll make sure the baby is taken care of. I’ll step up.”
The words landed in the room. I heard them from somewhere outside myself, like watching a man sign a document he couldn’t read. Because here it was. The thing I’d been carrying for months, the weight of what I’d done in that room — it wasn’t just a memory anymore. It was a child. A real, living consequence of the worst night of my life, growing inside a woman whose name I’d just learned and whose face I didn’t remember.
I’d spend eighteen years, at least, tied to this stranger. To that night, to Danny dying and Bea leaving and the bottle I’d crawled into instead of calling for help. Every time this child visited, every birthday, every handover in a car park somewhere — it would be there. The proof. The thing I did.
And Bea. If I’d had any shred of hope left — any quiet, stupid, middle-of-the-night fantasy that I might earn my way back to her — this killed it. She’d have to look at this child and see the evidence of what I’d done to her. No woman could live with that. No woman should have to.
I’d been right to end it. That was the sick irony. I’d been right all along, and now I had proof, standing in front of me in a jacket that wouldn’t close. But being right didn’t feel like anything. It just felt like a door locking from the outside.
“I appreciate that,” Joanne said slowly. She was still looking at me with that frown. “But—” She stopped.
“What?”
“You’re not him.”
“Well, fuck me,” someone muttered from the bar.
The room had been quiet before. But now it was even quieter — every brother leaning in, watching, waiting to see where this landed.
“The man I was with was—” She made a shape in the air with her hand. “Taller than you. Six-two, maybe six-three. Sandy blond hair. He had a drawl — deep South, Georgia or maybeAlabama. And the tattoo on his forearm — it was a hawk, wings spread.” She shook her head. “You don’t look anything like him.”
I couldn’t speak. I was aware of Colt behind the desk, his hand flat on the surface.
“You were in my room,” I said.
“You’re Holden?” she said again.
I nodded.
She studied me for a long moment, then shook her head. “It wasn’t you. I talked to this man for an hour at the bar before we went anywhere. I wasn’t that drunk. I remember his face.”
“Then how’d you get pregnant?” I said. I knew what was coming the second the words left my mouth.
The clubhouse erupted. Brothers howling, someone shouting about the birds and the bees, one of the club girls calling out from the bar — “You need us to draw you a diagram, Holden?” Even Colt had a slight smirk on his face.
I recognized the voice — one of the club girls who’d been around for the past few months, easy company, the kind who showed up because she liked the vibe and would move on when the phase ran its course. Under King there’d been a whole lot of politics to the club girls — the kind of thing that had torn up relationships and started fights. After Dutch got Indira back, all of that had quietly dissolved. The girls who came through now were different. Friendly. No agenda. Nothing like the old days, and nobody wanted them back.
“Alright, you lot, settle down.” I waited for the noise to die back. “I meant there was a condom wrapper. In the room. On the table.”
“Probably poked a hole in it,” Target muttered. “Oldest trick in the book.”
Joanne’s head snapped toward him. “He pulled it out of his own jeans pocket. Apparently it didn’t work.” Her voice was flat, steady. “Believe me, I wasn’t planning to get knocked up.Last thing I wanted was a surprise pregnancy with a man whose name I don’t even know.” She looked back at me. “But here I am.”
The room went quiet again, every brother leaning in, waiting to hear what came next. I caught at least one fucker with his phone out, recording.
Glitch appeared out of nowhere. I hadn’t heard him approach — but that was Glitch. He’d been standing there long enough to hear what mattered.
“The interior cameras,” he said quietly. To me, but also to the room. “The ones on the motion sensors, on the separate drive. I’ve been meaning to pull that footage since that night.” He paused. I could see the frustration on his face. Or maybe it was anger. Glitch hated missing things. “Danny. Reyes. With everything going on, I didn’t get to it.”
He looked at Joanne. Then at me. Then at Colt.
Colt nodded once. “Let’s do it.” He stood, then looked at Joanne. “You want to sit down? Get you some water, something to eat?”
She blinked, surprised. “I’m fine.”
“Sit down anyway.” He said it gently, but it wasn’t a suggestion. He pointed at one of the prospects. “Get her some water. Stay with her. Nobody talks to her until we come back out.”
The security room was small and cool and full of the quiet hum of equipment. Colt sat beside Glitch. I stood against the wall with my arms crossed, waiting.
