6. Chapter One

Chapter One

C annon didn't wait for his brothers to finish getting on their bikes. He needed to get on the road. He pulled out of the compound and sped up. Since he'd come to Bluff Creek, he'd spent a lot of time riding his bike. No cares, just him and the road. If he rode far enough, maybe then he could get the look on Jesse's face out of his mind. The look he'd put on her face. He'd gone through just about every emotion there was today. Shock. Anger. Fear. And now he just wanted to forget everything that happened today at lunch.

He saw War pulling up beside him, but with the speed they were going, he couldn't hear him yelling. War pointed to the edge of the road and Cannon got his intent loud and clear. His President was telling him he better pull over. Cannon decreased his speed and pulled to the edge of the road. He kept his engine running until War motioned to turn it off. Sometimes reporting to his President sucked.

"What?"

"Put this on," War yelled, grabbing Cannon's helmet where it had been strapped to his bike and handing it to him. Sometimes he wore it and other times he didn't. He stared at War, but his President just held his stare waiting on him. War was so stubborn sometimes. Usually Cannon appreciated it but not today.

"We can stand here on the side of the road all night, but you're wearing the helmet. You're not thinking straight. You pulled out in front of that semi, causing it to slam on its brakes. I don't think you even saw it. At least, we might have a chance of saving you if you have a helmet on. If you think you can't control your anger on the bike, head toward the gym, and we'll let you take turns beating on all of us."

Cannon grabbed his helmet out of War's hands. As he slipped it on, he looked around at his brothers. The brothers he'd chosen when he became a part of the Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC. War, Bear, Flick, and Roam were all on their motorcycles and were wearing their helmets. It was always a little more dangerous at night when riding their bikes, so he understood.

The wind, the feel of the bike on the pavement, and just the road in front of him was what he needed tonight to think through what was next.

He could still see Jesse's face when he yelled at her, Are you fucking pregnant ? Then to have Phoebe and the kids all let him know that they'd known the secret. The secret baby that he'd made with Jesse. He still remembered every single second of that night.

Each touch. Each taste of her creamy skin as he'd kissed and nipped as their clothing came off. She'd been the woman he'd dreamed of. When he'd taken control, telling her she just had to hold the headboard and feel, a look of relief had washed across her face.

Each sigh and moan he'd wrung from her was music to his ears. After he'd cleaned himself and her up, he'd considered leaving. But her red hair splayed on the pillow and her smirk tilting up her swollen lips had him crawling in beside her.

He never snuggled after sex. Before her, it was a transactional, mutually beneficial exchange. That night, it had seemed more, but he couldn't have more. When she'd offered a one-night stand, he'd jumped at the chance to savor perfection for one night.

They'd found each other once more during the night. Her complete trust in doing whatever he asked had fed something deep inside him. But then morning had come, and it was time to say goodbye and forget the night. Although he'd kissed her multiple times during the night, he hadn't even kissed her goodbye when he snuck back to the clubhouse. To keep Locks from hearing his bike which was parked behind Jesse's house, he'd had to push it across the pasture and out a gate.

Since then, they'd sniped and ignored each other as if the night had never happened. Did it make him a dick that he enjoyed annoying her because man, the fire in her eyes when he irritated her was a joy? Probably. But it wouldn't stop him.

So many nights since then he'd dreamed of them together and then woken up to being all alone, which is what he had to do. But their night together had created something. Something he wasn't prepared to deal with. He couldn't be a dad. He'd promised himself years ago that he'd never have children. He wasn't cut out for it. The thought of being in charge of a little life had him speeding up a little as he tried to calm down.

He glanced at the road and realized he'd ridden farther, and his brothers had just followed. He'd turn at the next crossroads, and they could start heading back.

He had no idea how to deal with what had happened. He couldn't change it, but he also had no clue what to do.

Motion from the darkened road caught his eye from the left, but before he could identify what to avoid, he was hit and he and the bike were down, skidding across the pavement. He knew he rolled but couldn't keep track of what was happening because of the overwhelming pain in his arm, chest, and leg. He swallowed, fighting back the nausea and trying to make sense of what had happened.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he opened his eyes and couldn't help moaning. All he could feel was pain everywhere. Flick's face appeared in his line of sight.

"Cannon, you were hit by a truck. I know it hurts, but I need you to not move. Can you tell me where it hurts?"

"Leg, arm," Cannon groaned. "Oh fuck…"

Every breath brought a new pain. Not moving was fine with him because he didn't think he could move. He just wanted someone to help him. It was hard to concentrate with how his leg felt. He was cold and felt a little sick. He wasn't fucking throwing up because if lying here hurt, he couldn't imagine how much throwing up would.

It was hard to breathe, then someone pressed against his arm that was hurting and he moaned and gritted his teeth to keep a scream inside. The lights and sounds blurred as Cannon concentrated on taking one small breath at a time because even breathing hurt. But he knew Flick would take care of him.

Cannon gritted his teeth as someone moved him. He opened his eyes and saw one of the EMTs Flick worked with. Cannon could tell he was talking, but every breath brought a wave of pain, and he couldn't answer questions.

The fire in his leg and arm increased as they moved him. Cannon could tell he was moaning but he couldn't stop. He'd never felt this amount of pain before, which was saying something with how he'd grown up.

Cannon opened his eyes at the sound of Flick's voice.

"Cannon, we're medevacking you to Wichita. Just hang on. Can you stay awake, buddy?"

Stay awake. He could try. The pain came in waves, and he felt like if he didn't concentrate on Flick's voice, it would pull him under. What if this was the end? Wichita, even by helicopter or plane, was an hour away. Flick's voice sounded worried. Even with all the pain, he could hear it.

Cannon had never been a praying man, even though his grandma took him to Christmas Eve services and to church when he lived with her. But right now, he didn't want this to be the end. He couldn't leave the last time he talked to Jesse being him yelling at her. Why, when he was fighting for his life, did everything become so clear? If he could just survive to make it right with her. He might not be able to be a father to the kid, but he'd support them anyway he could and apologize.

He was so fucking sorry for yelling at her. She didn't deserve that. He didn't know why she hadn't told him about the baby, but he prayed he'd get a chance to find out. He breathed in and pain rolled through him. His chest and shoulder felt like someone was cutting it off. He couldn't seem to get a full breath.

"Cannon, stay with me, buddy. Your lung collapsed. It's going to hurt but we're going to help you breathe."

Pain like nothing he'd ever known seemed to cut through his side and everything went dark.