Chapter Ten

Before opening the bedroom door, Mort heard Bailey’s sobs. He placed his hand on the doorknob and heaved in a breath. He wasn’t sure if Harley was in her room, and he didn’t care. If he saw her, he’d do something unfatherly and ungentlemanly like ask her if she had lost her motherfucking mind, then invite her out of his house.

He couldn’t imagine either scenario. Mostly, he’d spent his life protecting women. Except the years during Big Joe’s spiral when he’d had to clean up the man’s messes. Mort still didn’t understand how the man had gone from the strange honor he’d lived by, a leader who cherished his daughter, to a girl killer who didn’t give a damn about consent.

Lowman? Logan Donovan turned Johnnie into Johnnie. Mort also knew Logan was the catalyst for Big Joe’s drug addiction.

Logan and Sharper.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against the door, thinking of all that Roxanne had revealed.

Why hadn’t he known her story before? He’d just taken for granted that she’d been K-P’s old lady once upon a time and gave birth to his daughter. Even when she revealed she knew Dinah, way back when Meggie’s mama was still alive, it hadn’t registered with Mort just how deeply woven into the club Roxanne had once been.

People rinsed and recycled the story of how Roxanne met K-P, first told by K-P, so many times that the butter knife she had mentioned today became a blade. Both Roxanne and K-P downplayed her knowledge of the club.

Another sob filtered through the bedroom door. His heart beating hard and fast, he swallowed, then straightened and took balls in hand. Walking into the room, he halted.

Bailey curled on their bed, sobbing so pitifully. Mort balled his hands into fists. He wasn’t sure what to say to her. He’d had every intention of talking to her about the miscarriages. Seeing her devastation left him uncertain. Not only for her, but because of Harley, too.

His daughter had lost her fucking mind. Yet, a part of him wanted to protect her relationship with her mother. Bailey was the only thing standing between Harley and disaster.

Afraid she’d shut him out or send him away, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Bailey?”

Digger tried to convince Mort to return with him to his house after they stopped Prez from beating Johnnie to death, but Mort hadn’t been interested. He was so fucking worn out. And worried.

He needed to check on Red and Meggie girl. He needed to check on Roxanne. But—

“Bailey, baby, I’m so fucking sorry. I never meant to make you feel neglected.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I never meant to neglect you.”

She didn’t respond. Mort hung his head.

“Grant brought Harley to Digger and Bunny,” he said. “I took a detour there instead of going straight to the club.”

Nothing.

His nostrils flared.

“I…uh…I…” He started to turn. “I need to talk to Harley.”

“She’s gone,” she said in a watery, broken voice that chilled Mort’s blood. He froze. “She’s no longer welcomed here.”

“Bailey—”

Sitting up, she raised a liquid gaze to him, her hair framing her delicate face and curtaining her shoulders. “Zoann’s taking her in.”

Chester? Ryan came to mind, and his total disregard and dislike of Mortician for reasons he’d prefer not to explore. He didn’t like the idea of Harley being around that motherfucker.

“How the fuck Chester took in Harley?”

“Besides Momma, Zoann and Kendall are the only ones who could handle her. Momma is livid. Kendall lives with Johnnie—”

If Johnnie lived. The motherfucker had more lives than a fucking cat, though.

“Ryan not a nice person.”

“Harley’s not a nice person,” she spat around tears.

As much as Mort wanted to refute the words, he couldn’t. Harley had turned into a demon.

Bailey shifted and her duster opened, revealing her bare chest. Bloody scratches crisscrossed her skin, on top of other cuts and bruises. A distinct purple darkened a cheek.

“We had words again, Lucas.” She swiped at tears streaming down her cheeks. “Ugly, ugly words. I don’t think I will ever forgive her.”

Mortician disagreed but held his peace.

Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed. He hurried to his side of the bed, climbed in and drew her into his arms, silent while she wept bitter tears, ending with, “I’ve ruined all of my relationships on her behalf.”

“No, baby. No. You haven’t—”

“I have,” she interjected, turning her face into his chest and crying harder. “I pushed away everyone for her! I almost ruined our marriage, and for what?”

Uncertain, Mort tangled his fingers through Bailey’s hair, searching for the right words to say. He always had advice for Johnnie and Prez wives. He should be able to help his own wife. Everything except comforting words filled his mind.

Bailey sniffled. “Did she tell you about the miscarriages?”

Tension settled into Mort. “She didn’t mean to tell me. She was just mad.” And vicious. And mean.

And fucking bitter. If cynicism ruled her at fifteen, how the fuck would she feel at fifty after she’d gotten a dose of real life?

Bailey scrambled in front of him and studied his face. She trailed her slender fingers along his jawline and thumbed his lips.

“You’re such a good father, Lucas.”

She brushed her lips over his, then dropped her hand and stared at him.

“Don’t really feel like one now, Bailey. Or a good husband. I…fuck…I had suspicions once or twice that you might be pregnant. Instead of coming to you, I waited for you to tell me. When you announced you were carrying Lou and Kaleb, you always did it in such a special way.”

For Lou, she’d gotten a tiny silver stove with an even smaller bun that she placed inside and sat on the dining table next to his placemat. With Kaleb, they’d gone to dinner, and he’d received a handwritten note from Stork Delivery Services.

“I didn’t want to ruin your surprise. Did I get busy with club business?” He nodded. “I did. I brushed off my suspicions and forgot about them,” he admitted quietly.

“Before I found out about Harley, you watched me so closely. You kept asking if Aunt Flo had arrived. I just thought…when you didn’t this time…I-I know you don’t want another baby.” Her face fell. “It made me resent Meggie because even if Outlaw didn’t want more kids, it didn’t matter as long as she was happy.”

Mort shook his head. “How Meggie girl got to be everybody fucking punching bag? The woman just trying to live her life with her family. Johnnie resent her for old shit. You resent her for our shit. And Digger resent her for stupid shit.”

“Digger?” she echoed, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

He sighed, then began telling her about his earlier conversation with his brother, how he resented Meggie for fucked up reasons. Not only were they fucked, but they were plain stupid.

“Sometimes, I’m jealous of her for the same reason,” she admitted. “It’s all so easy for her.”

“It’s not, Bailey. Being Prez old lady hard. So fucking hard.”

“Meggie’s a shot caller, but when she needs advice, she goes to you or Momma. Never me or Digger or Val.”

She had her reasons with Val, besides his brainlessness. But Mort had never betrayed what happened the day Val attacked Meggie, and he never would. He told himself it was because of Val. As his brother, he’d meted out justice for the wrong he’d done and moved on. Whether it was because of Val, Prez, Meggie, Chester, or all four, Mort didn’t care.

“I intended to walk to her house and tell her to stop interfering.”

Mort didn’t have a clue what Bailey meant. “How she interfering?”

Meggie intervened when motherfuckers asked for her advice.

“I know she’s the reason CJ is turning away from Harley. She needs to back off. Perhaps Harley wouldn’t have had such a meltdown if CJ was still talking to her.”

“First, pretty girl? CJ got a mind of his own. You know the bullshit Harley flung at him? Second, if Meggie advised him to leave Harley alone, that’s her son. What you expected either of them to do?”

“Not that.”

“I’m so fucking sorry for the reason you didn’t get to Meggie girl, but I’m happy you ended up not going. Your relationship is strained enough with her. Let it heal. You heal. You’ll think clearer about everything.”

“I thought the miscarriages were my penance,” Bailey admitted. She looked so vulnerable.

Mort wanted to take her back into his arms, but he was afraid she’d reject him. Or falling apart.

“I was so determined to get pregnant despite how you felt.”

He couldn’t meet her gaze. “How many you had?”

“Th-three. The last one happened the same day I’d gone to my doctor to confirm the pregnancy. I was seven weeks.”

Tugging her into his arms, he leaned back and stretched out next to her. She snuggled against him.

“I wanted that baby so bad. I just felt so empty and lost. I thought moving the office to Portland would fill that void. Then, the week after the ribbon cutting, I realized what a mistake it was. I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be back in Hortensia, near the club and the kids and the girls. But, most of all, I wanted to be near you.”

“Bailey,” he said gruffly. “Why you didn’t just close the motherfucker and reopen your office here?”

“You funded the move as a twelfth wedding anniversary. I didn’t want to waste all the money you spent or make you think I didn’t appreciate your gift.”

Mort stared at the ceiling. “I would’ve preferred that than you resenting the fuck out of me, pretty girl.”

He didn’t mean to touch a nerve that started her sobs again. She needed to get her hurt and pain out, so he let her cry, holding her tightly and kissing her temple, her hairline, her lips. She was soft and yielding, but Mort warned Roscoe to stand down for now.

Of course, the motherfucker didn’t. His dick rose hard and heavy between them.

“I didn’t want you at the office. Or Meggie. Or Momma. It would only make me miss the life I’d enjoyed. I just felt so out of sorts.”

“During this time, you lost the babies?”

She nodded.

She’d been so stressed. It was a miracle she’d gotten pregnant at all.

“When Harley accused CJ of cheating with Molly Harris and she was so devastated, I realized you were right. Harley wouldn’t do well with a little sister. She was so vulnerable.” Sitting up, she shrugged out of one of her duster sleeves. She kept her tits covered as she lifted her arm. “I have a birth control implant. We’re safe for five years.”

Mort should’ve felt relief that there was no possibility of Bailey getting pregnant. Except disappointment and regret ran deep. It was so easy to understand how Meggie always ended up filled with Prez kid, despite how he felt. He just wanted his woman happy.

Mort wanted the same for his wife. Bailey was giving up her dream of another baby for Harley’s happiness. Even if she hadn’t turned into a person he didn’t recognize, Bailey’s decision wasn’t fair to her. They had money and resources. More than anything, they had love.

Any child they created would be lucky to have Bailey as its mother.

He nuzzled her neck. “Make an appointment, baby.” He breathed in her scent. “I think we should try again.”

She tipped her head back, awe and hope in her eyes. “Truly, Lucas?”

“Yeah, Bailey,” he said, feeling like a supreme motherfucker for putting up any objections.