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BLISS
“Okay, so what are wenotgoing to do when we get to the clubhouse?” Nash spun the steering wheel, making the turn that would lead us down the track to the clubhouse, rather than the one we often took to War’s old cabin. He hadn’t lived there since he’d moved in with the rest of us, but as prez of the club, it was there for whenever we wanted to use it.
Which was fun for a change of scenery. At home we had an entire house to have sex in. But War’s cabin was cozy and sweet and held a lot of memories, both good and bad.
Plus it was surrounded by woods, which were always fun for a bit of ‘might get caught’ sex.
Not that anything like that would be happening today.
Because the man had gone and gotten himself shot. I picked at the sleeve of my hoodie, absentmindedly stressing out that a bullet had passed through his skin, even though Fang had assured me he was okay.
I couldn’t even think about it. Just the thought alone made me want to vomit. This baby might have three dads…or four if you counted Vincent and Scythe as two people, which I generally did because they couldn’t be more different…but he or she needed every single one of them.
“We’re not going to slowly and painfully gut War, then pull out his intestines to feed to Little Dog,” Vincent said quietly.
But his death grip on his knife didn’t exactly give off the vibe he was planning to gently nurse War back to health either.
Nash shot him a look. “Seriously, V. I want to kill him right now too, but Bliss wouldn’t like that.”
Bliss was pretty angry herself and tempted to let Vincent have at it for at least a couple of minutes, but giving a psychopath free rein was never a particularly good idea. “No stabbing anyone, V.”
He finally lifted his gaze to me. “You’re upset because he’s hurt. He should have thought about that before he put himself in danger.”
I suspected Vincent was harboring some additional feelings on the subject, courtesy of his alter ego, Scythe, who was as much in love with War as I was. The divide between the two of them wasn’t as rock-solid as it had once been. Scythe’s feelings sometimes filtered through, and I could only imagine the racket he was making in Vincent’s head. I reached over and squeezed his hand reassuringly instead. “He’s okay.”
Vincent just nodded, staring out the window.
Nash pulled the Jeep up outside the clubhouse, and we all got out, slamming doors behind us. I strode inside the building, Vincent and Nash flanking me.
“Where is he?” I asked the first person I saw as we walked through the doors.
Ice pointed down the hallway. “Infirmary.”
“They have an infirmary?” Nash squinted. “Where?”
I hadn’t ever seen it either, but then War had been lucky enough not to be seriously injured since we’d gotten together. That luck had clearly run out.
I rubbed my hand over my baby bump, the sick feeling returning. I didn’t want to think about raising this baby without him.
Ice came out from behind the bar. “I’ll show you.”
I thanked him and followed him down the hall, to the very end, and a door I’d never been through before. I’d never even thought to question what was behind it, assuming it was one of the brothers’ rooms.
Ice opened it for me and reached around for a light switch on the wall. “He’ll be glad to see you, Bliss.”
He wouldn’t. At least not by the time I was through yelling at him for scaring me half to death. It was a miracle I hadn’t gone into early labor when Fang had uttered the words, “Bliss. War’s been shot.”
I shuddered, but thanked Ice, and made my way down the stairs, following the low tone of voices.
The closer I got, the more a lump lodged in my throat. War’s voice came from behind a curtain, talking softly to someone, and I pulled it aside, tears already rolling down my face.
War and Hawk stopped talking and looked over.
Instantly, War’s expression went soft. “Ah fuck, baby girl. Don’t cry over me.”
I’d planned on throwing myself at him and telling him I loved him.
Instead, I punched his arm as hard as I could. I needed somewhere for the fear to go, and apparently it was into physical violence.
