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He wouldn’t believe me at first, would threaten me against blackmail or extortion. When the truth became evident, he might give me what I wanted most—his love, his heart—but it wouldn’t only be for show.
Obligation.
That was the last thing I wanted. I wanted Jasper with everything in me, but only if he wanted me too. Love was the only thing worth the expectations that came with being an Ashby or being married to an Ashby. I wasn’t sure I could handle being an Ashby if Jasper didn’t love me, no matter how badly I wanted a family for my baby.
But I knew one thing. I needed to figure my shit out.
The baby wouldn’t stop growing just because I hadn’t mustered up the courage to tell Jasper the truth. Life would be too fucking simple and enjoyable if it did.
Chapter Thirteen
Jasper
“Yo, Jas.” Terry stood just inside my office at Midnight Mass with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Got a minute?”
Hell no, I didn’t have a minute, but Terry was my best friend. My brother-in-law. The man who always had my fucking back. So I buried my frustration and said, “Sure. What’s up?”
“Some young fucks have been hanging around in the Green Zone, threatening the business owners who refuse to pay for their so-called protection. I’ve busted a few skulls on my own, just to prove a point, but you know how these young shits are. They’re gonna need your particular brand of charm.”
Terry flashed a wide smile, the same one he wore whenever some shit was about to go down.
I pushed away from my desk with a knowing smile. “Aren’t you too old to get such a thrill out of fucking people up?”
“Fuck no, and neither are you. This is an excellent stress reliever, and with all the shit on your plate, I know you could use something to take away the stress.”
At Terry’s words, my shoulders relaxed because he was right. Of course, he was right. Terry was my best fucking friend, the person who knew me best in the whole world. Even better than my family.
“Thank fuck,” I growled and undid the first button of my shirt. “Between my pain in the ass siblings—your wife included—and Sadie being stubborn as usual, I am losing my fucking mind. I could definitely do with some stress release.”
Terry’s smile widened as he clapped me on the back and followed me out of the office. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
I barked as we walked in long, purposeful strides out of Midnight Mass, “Mo, keep an eye on things,” and then we made our way to the car and off to the Green Zone. “I want to talk to some of the business owners first.”
Terry parked at Lucky Lopez, and we walked the main drag, side-by-side, talking to everyone from the old dude who owned the corner store, the lady who worked at the laundromat, and the new drug store owner. Their stories were all the same. A group of young punks would come into their place of business, wreck shit, and then demand money to keep other motherfuckers from coming in to wreck shit.
I listened, growing angrier by the moment because I knew this shit was only happening because of the so-far unsuccessful attempt on Sadie’s life. “You get any names from these assholes?”
“No, sir. But they were all wearing leather vests like bikers do, you know? The word Psychos written on the back with a skull that looks fucking nuts.”
Fucking Psycho bike club. “Thanks. If they come around again, give Terry a call.” I nodded at Terry, and he slid a card to the old man behind the pharmacy counter.
“Anytime day or night. Got it?”
The old dude nodded. “Thank you so much.” The old man’s gratitude made me uneasy, his and all the other business owners we spoke to.
“We’re all praying for a speedy recovery for your mama.”
I nodded and left the gas station with Terry at my heels. “Fucking bikers,” I growled.
“The Psychos are a small MC made up of a bunch of twenty-somethings looking to make a name for themselves. Formed in Henderson so they know fuck all about how things are run here.”
I smiled over my shoulder. “Then let’s show them.”
It took less than ten minutes to track them down to a rundown warehouse a few miles outside the Green Zone. It used to be Black Jacks’ property, which was pretty fucking ironic given what happened to those shit stains. The metal door with the chipped paint was wide open, inviting in friend and foe alike. It was their dumb fucking luck that today, a foe came knocking.
I banged on the door with my fist, startling all five Psychos from their round table chat.
A bearded ginger stood up, about a head taller than his buddies and twice as wide. “Who the fuck are you?”
