50. KADENCE

KADENCE

“ N o, you aren’t going.” Holden folds his arms across his chest glaring down at me.

“It’s just the store, Nash,” I say, slipping his sweatshirt over my head.

It desperately needs a wash, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to let it mix with my other clothes. It still faintly smells of leather and motor oil, of him, and it quickly became my safety blanket. I’m thankful that the morning sickness hasn’t ruined his lingering scent.

He shakes his head. “First it’ll be the store, next it’ll be the diner and then Blake will want to go on some shopping spree for the baby.” Holden groans before taking a step towards me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist. “You aren’t supposed to leave the compound.”

“And you promised not to be a helicopter,” I counter back, raising a brow at him. “I can’t stay cooped up here for the rest of my life, Nash.”

“I’m also not going to put you or our baby in danger by letting you do something the prospects are capable of doing.”

He has a point, but it’s been a week since Holden returned home and no one has seen any signs of Stokes or Watson. It’s comforting and yet not at the same time. Cole has been on edge all week, pulling the guys into Church every night to come up with a plan to get rid of our problems. Holden and I decided to keep the pregnancy to ourselves…and Blake until after everything dies down. Even with it being a tiny sliver of happiness that we all so desperately need, I don’t want it to distract from what we need to do.

My heart flutters though when he mentions the baby. When we’re alone, he finds every excuse to bring he or she up in conversation. His fingers dance across my stomach and it’s like I can see the images he plays over and over in his mind of us as a family.

“You said our baby,” I say softly with a smile, looking up at him.

“Because it is.” Holden’s lips press to the tip of my nose. “Don’t distract me with our child.” He chuckles, dipping his head to kiss my cheek and jaw. “What is at the store that you need so badly I can’t send a member for it?”

“I wanted to try remaking the dinner I was going to make for the guys while you and Cole were gone.” I smile, the words coming out more sheepishly than I meant. I haven’t admitted to making dinner and things have been so busy it seems like everyone has forgotten.

He drops his forehead to mine and sighs. “We don’t deserve your heart, Sunflower.”

“Does that mean I can go?” I grin, peppering his jawline with soft kisses. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.” I waggle my eyebrows at him, forcing a chuckle from his lips as he tilts his head back and laughs. “ Please,” I groan, dragging out the word.

“Alright, alright.” He laughs. “Just take Wyatt with you. Cole needs me.” The last few words trail off and I can see the guilt flicker in his eyes as his arms tighten around my body for a moment.

“I know, Holden.” I smile, cupping his face. “You both need to be focused on finding Stokes and Watson. It doesn’t mean you love me any less if you need to take care of club business and you don’t have to feel guilty for it.”

He sighs and drops his head to kiss me. A soft lingering kiss that makes my toes curl in the fuzzy socks I'm wearing. He always seems to do that, with one kiss showing me how much he truly cares. Pouring every ounce of love he can into each one. It's a testament of how different this relationship feels. How all of our dark shadows are outshined with every touch and kiss we share.

“Go,” he whispers softly, his warm breath tickling my skin as he moves to bury his face into the crook of my neck, “before I change my mind and keep you in bed for the rest of the day.”

“If I hadn’t already promised Wolfe a remake of the chili I made, it’d be a very tempting offer.” I laugh.

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re leaving me to do a favor for him and pretend I didn’t hear that,” he grumbles, pressing a kiss to my temple as he grabs his cut off the bed.

I slip into my combat boots and shoot him a look. "He's a friend, Holden, and he took the brunt of Watson's torment the other night protecting me and Blake. It's a thanks, not an offer."

"I'm pretty sure he's in love with you," Holden mutters, shaking his head, slipping his old worn baseball cap over his buzzed hair.

I let out a soft laugh. "He's not in love with me."

Our eyes meet and the look in his eyes gives me pause. "You didn't see the way he looked at you the night--"

Raising a brow I stand and wrap my arms around him. "The night of the bridge?" I ask gently knowing it's still a touchy subject for both of us.

He swallows hard and nods. "He looked just as scared as I was that we'd lose you."

My hands slide to his chest, gripping the edges of his cut. "He's the one that told me not to give up on you, not to walk away from us."

His brows furrow.

“I’m not going anywhere, Holden. I’m in this with you, even more so now than ever.” My fingers find his own as I slide his hand over my stomach. A silent reassurance that my world is now his, that we belong together and that it was us against it. “Do you love me?”

“More than you know,” he says, dipping his head to kiss me again, his fingers digging into the softness of my belly.

I smile against his mouth. “I love you too.”

Wyatt looked terrified when we climbed into the tow truck. His hands were glued to the steering wheel and he hadn't once taken his eyes off of the road as we drove to the town's general market. Even while we were in the store he seemed distracted. Stuck to my side and carrying the basket for me, but distracted.

The ride back is no different. It's driving me mad that the normally chipper and light-hearted West seems on edge.

"Okay, spill." I finally break the tension filling the cab and switch off the radio. "What the hell did Holden say to you?"

Wyatt's brown eyes flicker over to mine briefly before looking back at the road. I watch his hands curl over the steering wheel again. The leather whining under his white knuckles. "He didn't say anything."

"Bullshit." I laugh. "Wyatt, you're acting like someone put the fear of God into you."

He groans in that boyish way that makes me remember just how young he still is. One of the youngest prospects the Hounds have and still more of a member than most. "It wasn't Holden, okay?"

That shocks me. I raise a brow and turn towards him in the seat waiting for him to finish.

"It was Blake," he grumbles.

My brows shoot to my hairline as I try to stifle a laugh. “Blake?” I fail instantly to hold back my laughter.

Wyatt frowns and glances over at me. “She told me that if I didn’t bring you back safely and stay stuck to you like glue then she’d burn my entire comic book collection.” His eyes have turned back to the road, but the disdain in his voice is evident.

I chuckle and shake my head. My heart is full and warm at Blake’s use of Holden’s words.

“Sounds like an expensive collection,” I say gently with a grin glancing over at him. The smile beams across his cheeks as he nods.

“It really is, I’ve been collecting them for years.” Wyatt rambles on for the next few minutes as we make our way through a stretch of road that sits between the main part of town and the clubhouse. I smile to myself as he talks about something he loves so much. There isn’t a weight on either of our shoulders as he explains the differences between Marvel and DC to me.

We're just about to the clubhouse when a siren sounds from behind us. Everything in my stomach drops when I look back and see a squad car trailing behind the truck.

"Fuck," Wyatt curses under his breath, shifting in his seat like he's debating on pulling over or racing back to the compound where we have defense in numbers.

I know how this works though. If he stops we have a chance of getting by on our own, but if he keeps going all hell will break loose and the fight the club has been preparing for would show up on their doorstep unannounced. I'm not ready for that. Not with so much more on the line now.

My hand slides over my belly, holding my sweatshirt there in my fingers as I look back to Wyatt. "Pull over."

His head shoots to the side looking at me with wide eyes. "Kadence, I can't."

"Yes you can, Wyatt. It'll be worse if you don't." My voice is soft and pleading as he stares at me for another moment before shaking his head.

"This is a bad idea," He mutters, pulling the wheel to the right and stopping on the shoulder.

"I know," I whisper as the sirens shut off. We both sit in silence for what feels like hours until a tap rings against Wyatt's window. I look only to meet the beady blue eyes of Watson. A wicked grin is spread across his face.

Wyatt rolls the window down, shifting nervously again as he glares up at the man who destroyed their clubhouse a week ago. "What's the problem?"

"Get out of the truck, West," Watson says firmly, tugging on the door and pulling it open.

Wyatt glances back at me and, like a freight train, I realize we made the wrong decision. He climbs from the truck only for Watson to slam the door closed behind him causing me to jump. Within seconds Wyatt is thrown into the side of the cab, still standing upright but with Watson's hands around his neck. I see Watson lean in, whispering something harshly to Wyatt but I can't make out any words.

My heart hammers in my chest as I watch the two of them exchange words. Wyatt's brows knit together as he glances back at the truck, our eyes meeting through the back window. He mouths something to me that looks an awfully lot like I'm sorry , just before Watson lands a punch straight into Wyatt's gut. The kid keels over, coughing and tries to catch his breath and before I even know what I'm doing, I'm opening the door.

"Wyatt!" I yell, my heart aching with how hard it's thundering and my knees shaking. How the fuck am I going to stop this? My feet hit the gravel and as I look up my heart stops. Dark, dangerous brown eyes stare back at me. He looks older, worn down, and almost manic.

I back into the open door of the tow truck, cornering myself as his boots crunch in the gravel beneath him. Menacingly, taunting.

"It's been a while," his voice echoes through me over the sound of Wyatt's blood filled sputters and Watson's hate filled blows.

Jeremy grins. The same grin I saw every time he became eerily quiet, every time just before he hurt me. All of the air expels out of my lungs as fear like I've never known creeps up my spine in twisted thorned claw like vines.

"Did you miss me, Princess ?"