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“It does. Should we leave? You think it’s a setup?”
I don’t think it’s a setup, at least not by the cops. I think it might be a club fucking with us. I’m not sure who, though. Nomad Kings are fucking gone and dead. They were our biggest local enemy. On a national scale, I have no fucking clue.
“Well,” I say, “we can’t sit around and just stare at the shipment, hoping it’ll get loaded up all by itself.”
Climbing down from the truck, I mutter to myself that this is bullshit. I’m the vice president of the club and should not be doing the manual labor and heavy lifting. But at the same time, I have to do my part, so here I fucking am.
“Your woman’s having a kid. I still can’t believe you’re going to be a father. There haven’t been kids in the club since we were young,” Gnaw says.
He’s not wrong. Except I wasn’t raised in the club. Not the way some of the guys were. I don’t say that, though. They think of me as their brother. Before I can respond, I watch as a man walks around the building. I don’t recognize him, but I recognize the cut he’s wearing.
Standing in front of the shipment, I cross my arms over my chest and watch him, waiting for what he’s going to say, warn, threaten, or whatever the fuck he’s got on his mind. He smiles and takes a step backward without a word.
Gnaw has stopped moving as well and stands beside me. We watch as the man turns around and walks out into the dark parking lot. He climbs onto his bike, starts the engine, and rides away.
I shift my attention to Gnaw and arch a brow. “That was the weirdest shit ever,” I say.
He nods his head. “Welp,” he says. “We got shit to do and can’t stand around here all night staring after that fucker.”
Laughing, I jerk my chin, and together, we make quick work of the load. I double-check that everything is where it’s supposed to be and that the guy didn’t take anything. He didn’t. We climb back into the truck and head out to the unloading point.
It doesn’t take long. The load is a semilocal one. Doesn’t pay as much as others, but everything aligned, and it was the right fit. When we arrive at the drop-off point, my phone rings in my pocket. I pull it out and smile at my dad’s name on the caller ID.
Gnaw jumps out of the truck to get started while I slide my thumb across the screen and lift it to my ear.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for weeks,” I announce as my greeting.
“You people wanted to expand,” he grunts. “I’m working harder now than I ever was up in Pineville.”
The way he says it, I know he likes it. So I let him do his bitching, but this call isn’t about him bitching. I have something I want to tell him. No, I need to tell him. He was actually the first person I called, but since he didn’t answer, I couldn’t keep it inside a second longer.
“I’m going to be a father,” I blurt out.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“I’m not.”
There is a moment of silence, then he lets out a shout. “Fuck yes,” he says. “Keep her. I’ve come across many women in my time, and trust me when I tell you that Shawn is a good one. Don’t fuck it up.”
“I don’t plan on it,” I chuckle. “I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”
“Thank fuck.”
Ending the call, I stare out the windshield and smile. Yeah, thank fuck, I think. I agree with his sentiment. Thank fucking fuck that she said yes. I can’t believe that this is my life, that she is really mine.
All mine.
I can’t fucking wait for the rest of our lives. If they’re anything like the past few months, I’m in for a goddamn wild but perfect life.
I can’t fucking wait.
