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Now—we owe her nothing.
We will be done with her.
At least, I hope that’s how this goes down.
The ride to The Plantation has my mind wondering about all kinds of things. How I should have called Bella before the fight with the Bratva. If something did go down, I should have given Bella a chance at a final phone call with me if I lost my fight in that battle.
I’ve been so wrapped up in Ingrid and my life here that I am neglecting the one person who was there for me all those years when my parents were making me drown.
I need to find some time to go back out to LA to see Bella, to take Ingrid to meet her, to tell Mom and Dad I have an Old Lady, even though they’re not going to like who it is.
Ingrid’s family has welcomed me into their life.
It’s time mine welcomed her into theirs.
But I can’t be thinking about all that right now. I need to be focusing on the fact that we’re pulling into The Plantation, and shit is going to get very real, real quick for us.
We pull up, Maxxy walking out from the main building as a couple of the Baton Rouge Bachelor workers stroll past, nodding their heads as they go. I’d actually forgotten in all the shit that’s been going on that they’re still working here. Hoodoo walks over to Maxxy, pulling her to him, and he kisses her in front of us all. They’re such a loved-up couple.
Hurricane approaches them, the rest of us following. “Max, you’re positively glowin’.”
She snorts out a laugh. “About that…”
Hoodoo widens his eyes, looking at her. “Now?” he murmurs.
She shoves him playfully. “Yes, now. They’re all here, and it will be obvious soon anyway.”
Hoodoo wraps his arm around Maxxy’s shoulders, pulling her to him. “We have news, Pres.”
Hurricane rubs the back of his neck. “Okay, out with it.”
Maxxy shrugs. “This fucking ass-fucker knocked me up.”
Hoodoo stands there, happy as a pig in shit. “Damn straight I did!”
Maxxy rolls her eyes. “You were fucking determined, is what you were—”
“What does this mean for The Plantation, Maxxy? How much time are you gonna need off?” Hurricane interrupts, clearly concerned for our ever-growing business enterprise and offering no congratulations at all.
She snorts as Hoodoo scowls. “Time off? Are you kidding? I’ll have this thing in the office, then return to the field. I’m not stopping work. Hoodoo wanted the kid so much he can stay at home and look after the baby.”
We all burst out laughing because that is the most Maxxy-est answer I have ever heard.
Bayou grips Hoodoo’s shoulder, who doesn’t seem bothered by that outcome in the slightest. “Stay at home, biker daddy? Sounds like you to a tee, brother.”
Hoodoo doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “Sounds fucking good to me.”
We all snicker. The gender roles are reversed with these two, but that is why they work so well.
“Congratulations, guys, we’re happy for ya,” Hurricane finally states, leaning in to embrace Maxxy.
“You’re happy I’m not leaving the Farm, you mean?” she taunts.
“That too,” he relays with a smirk. “Now, on a more serious note… you got the bodies in the giant chill room?” he asks, and Maxxy’s smile falters.
“Yeah, they’re in caskets on trolleys waiting for you. Keith on the right, Six on the left.”
“Thanks for taking care of this, Max. Appreciate all your help. Send the Baroness through when she gets here,” Hurricane adds.
