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The president’s son-in-law, Dusty.
“What the fuck?” Dusty cries out as Pins lifts his foot and extends it, slamming it against the middle of his back and forcing him to fall to his knees.
Uno walks around and faces him, tipping his chin down to look into his eyes. “You fucked up, Dusty. You are a goddamn fucking mess. You’ve been in trouble with the law for more than just regular club shit, haven’t you?” he asks.
The fuck looks from Uno to me, then smirks before looking back to Uno. “You know that I have. Who can resist young tail, huh?”
“The Nasty Bastards won’t have it affiliated with their club,” Uno murmurs. “We warned you it would come to this.”
“My wife,” Dusty states. “I’m the president’s fucking son-in-law, my wife is his daughter. You won’t do this to me,” he announces.
I clear my throat and Bans snorts. Frogger doesn’t say anything, but as I look over at him, I can see the indecision in his face. He doesn’t think that we should be doing this. He’s wrong. The Nasty Bastards will put up with a hell of a lot. Wedoa hell of a lot, but we have standards, and we have our limits.
Child abuse in any form is a very hard limit.
“It doesn’t matter. We can’t have you representing the Nasty Bastards,” Uno announces as he lifts his hand and points the gun in his grasp at Dusty’s forehead.
None of us says a word. This isn’t our battle. Uno and the rest of the men knew what was expected of them. They knew this should have already been handled. They waited too fucking long and while I understand it, it also doesn’t make it okay.
There can be no exception to this rule.
When the trigger is pulled, we watch as Dusty’s perverted brain explodes all over the ground and then we get down to business. It’s time to save this club, to rescue the girl, and get back home to my own woman all in one piece.
TANNER
Idon’t know how long I stay where I am, ass on the floor, my back against the hard door. My eyes are still closed, and I let out a sigh as I force myself to stand to my feet.
I need to eat.
I don’t know how long it’s been, but I need food. It’s not a want at this point, it’s not because I’m even all that hungry, it’s for this baby. This is a need—I need food.
Looking through the envelope of cash that Wesley left me, I take out a couple hundred dollars from the stack, then put them in my wallet before I hide the envelope filled with the rest of the cash in my backpack, at the bottom, rolled up in some panties.
I haven’t even counted exactly how much he’s left me. But it’s all one-hundred-dollar bills and I’m beyond shocked. I try not to think about any of it. I don’t want to know how he got this money, if it’s by legal means or not. I don’t want to think about it or know any details at all.
Grabbing ahold of the truck keys that Wesley gave me, I leave the bedroom. Looking around the bar area, I try to find Brianne, hoping that she’ll be busy or too far away from me to warrant a scene.
Thankfully, I don’t see her as I hurry out of the clubhouse and head toward the parking lot where Wesley showed me his truck was parked. I admonish myself for thinking of him as Wesley again rather than Riff.
When I use his real name, it makes him far too human, and it makes me soften toward him. God, I want this shit to work out, not just for myself, but for this baby too… but selfishly just as much for myself.
It probably won’t though. If last night was any indication of my future, it’s going to be a messy and painful one.
Starting the engine to the truck, I drive away from the clubhouse and head toward the grocery store. I don’t know what I need for the kitchen, if they have any cooking utensils or pots and pans there. I forgot to look, but I need to be able to cook. Again, something that is not a want but rather a need at this point. So, I make a pit stop at Target before I go grocery shopping.
At Target, I do the stupidest thing ever, I decide to dip into the baby section. I really shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. All of the little onesies and clothes are so cute that I want to cry.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down to see that Jenna has texted me. It’s pretty comical that she’s texting me just as I’m standing in the baby department of the store. After all, she’s the one who made me take the test.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I look around before I read the incoming message.
JENNA: Brent is a mess. Please come back. I know that he’ll be okay with you living here. Please, don’t do this.
He made his choice, he said his words,I reply.
She doesn’t respond right away. I see the little bubbles pop up, then disappear, then pop up again. When she finally sends her message, it surprises me. It has nothing to do with me, but at the same time, it does have a lot to do with me.
JENNA: Brent has asked me to move in with him. My parents are so pissed, but I’m doing it. I guess, I just understand how you feel. I just want him to have a good family. We can’t do that without you.
