After being locked alone in a wing of my uncle’s hotel through most of my pregnancy, I’m used to being forgotten, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with. I press my palm to my ribs where they’re tightening.
“I don’t know what time, but I’ll be back tonight,” Hayes assures me. “Are you all right? Is Charlie?”
I don’t miss the small crack in his voice when he says her name.
“She’s good. We both are. I was only calling because of the person at the door.”
Another knock comes at the door, and this time, it’s followed by a soft voice announcing herself as Tempe.
“I should go. Someone named Tempe is out there.”
“Tempe is Steel’s old lady. Call me if you need anything else.”
“I won’t bother you.”
“Emery…”
My stomach flutters at how he says my name. “Yes?”
“Call me if you need anything.”
“Okay.” My stomach is a swarm of butterflies as I hang up the call—a knot lodged in my throat.
He’s keeping tabs for Charlie’s sake. He’s worried about her well-being, not mine. I’m the woman who left him,who didn’t find a way to tell him about his baby. This is all for her.
Swinging the front door open, I find five women standing in a group on the porch. Two of them are holding babies, who appear to be close to Charlie’s age.
“Emery?” A woman with wavy brown hair, standing at the center, smiles. “I’m Tempe.”
“Steel’s old lady,” I repeat what Hayes said. It’s a weird term, but I’m gathering things are different here. “Sorry it took me so long to answer. I called Hayes to check with him because I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“Of course you didn’t.” A woman with long black hair rolls her eyes. “You’d think with as much as those guys gossip, they’d be better at communication. I’m Willa, Chaos’s old lady. He and Soul are basically inseparable unless I take off my clothes.”
The first real smile in months climbs my cheeks. “Chaos must be the one I saw talking to Hayes at the bar then.”
“That would be him.” Willa nods, pointing to her right. “This is Luna, Ghost’s old lady.”
“I met Ghost when I got here. He let me in.”
“He told me.” Luna smiles, her blonde and purple ponytail whipping as she jumps forward to hug me, but then she quickly pulls back. “Any chance I can use your restroom?”
Her cheeks are suddenly pale, and her eyes wide.
“Of course. First door on the right.”
It’s barely out when Luna rushes past me into the house.
“Sorry about that,” Tempe says, moving her baby from one shoulder to the other. “Luna is only three months pregnant, and morning sickness has not been kind to her.”
“There are a lot of babies around here for a biker compound.” I look from Tempe’s daughter to the baby in another woman’s arms.
“They’re multiplying.” The blonde smiles. “I’m Reagan, Legacy’s old lady.”
“And I’m Aimee,” the final woman introduces herself.
She stands farther back than the rest. Her chin-length brown hair is tucked behind one ear, revealing a scar that cuts through her eyebrow. She’s intimidating—they all are. But her hard expression is softened by a welcoming smile.
“Well, you’re more than welcome to come in. Sorry for the mess. I’ve been cleaning all morning, but it’s a big project.”
