Chapter Seven

Annette

Standing near the bonfire, the flames crackling and sending sparks into the night, I find the heat comforting, but my heart is a storm of worry. I don't know if Cutter or the MacKenny brothers have found Beathan or if they ever will. I stare at Tyson Reed, the man who might just hold my heart. It's because of him that my son was taken. If Beathan isn't returned safely, will I ever be able to love Tyson completely?

The roar of Harleys breaks through my thoughts, echoing through the night. My pulse quickens. I sprint through the clubhouse, pushing past the front doors as the bikes roll to a stop. My eyes scan the group, frantically searching until I see Sean dismounting, Beathan in his arms.

"Beathan!" I scream, running toward them.

Sean closes the distance quickly, and I grab my son, pulling him close. I clutch him to my chest, kissing his face over and over, tears of relief streaming down my cheeks.

"Mom, stop! That tickles!" Beathan laughs, wriggling in my embrace.

Finally, I pull back, holding a hand to Sean's face. "Thank you," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

Sean's eyes glisten as he shakes his head. "It wasn't all me," his voice cracks.

Searching the faces of the men before me, I say, "Thank you. Thank…" Words fail me. How do I tell them thank you for rescuing my heart?

Cutter approaches me and smiles, but then he looks beyond us, and the smile falters slightly.

Tyson steps forward from the shadows. "Let's get you both home," he offers quietly.

Nodding, I lock eyes with my son. "Are you hungry, little man?"

"Yes, Mom."

Kyle steps closer. "I'll send some men to keep watch. You'll be safe."

"I'll do it," Sean offers.

Kyle nods at him, and I'm grateful for the protection.

As we turn to leave, Angus's voice stops Tyson in his tracks. "Tyson, we'll need to talk first thing in the morning."

The words hang in the air, a heavy reminder of the consequences yet to come. I frown at Angus, but Tyson gives him a curt nod, accepting the inevitable. He guides us to his car, the weight of the night still pressing on us. Tyson opens the back passenger door, and I slide in, keeping Beathan on my lap, holding him close.

The drive to our home is short, the streets are empty and quiet under the moonlight. The tension in the car is palpable, but I focus on Beathan, his steady breathing calming my racing heart. By the time we arrive, he's fast asleep, his little body relaxed in my arms.

Tyson opens the door and holds his arms out for Beathan, but I'm not ready to let him go. Instead, I shuffle forward, keeping him close, and awkwardly exit the car. Sean puts a hand on my elbow, steadying me as I get to my feet.

"Thank you," I whisper.

Sean doesn't respond. Instead, he holds out his hand, and I hand him the keys to my home. "Stay here," he instructs, then opens the door and steps inside.

He heads upstairs while the other two members of the MC stay downstairs, methodically checking every corner to ensure no one is hiding in the yoga studio.

I stand there, unsure whether to feel relieved or panicked that they're making sure my home is safe. This is Becca Falls, my childhood home. The thought that it could be a place of danger never occurred to me until now.

Tyson clears his throat. "I'm so sorry this happened."

"It's not your fault." I smile down at my son. "The only thing that matters is he's home and safe."

Sean and his men exit the building, and he nods at me. "It's clear. You need anything, scream, and we'll come running."

"Thanks, Sean. I feel safer with you out here."

He nods. "You are safe."

Walking up the stairs with Tyson at my back, I carry Beathan into my bedroom and place him on the bed, pulling a blanket over his small body. I kiss him on the forehead, and a frown creases his face, but he's out cold.

I unplug Beathan's night light from his bedroom, take it into my room, and plug it in. He might be frightened if he wakes up in the dark, and the sight of the familiar stars on the ceiling should comfort him.

Glancing at him one last time, I tiptoe out of my bedroom and into my kitchen, where Tyson is making a fresh pot of coffee.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Tears blur my vision as the reality of the night finally hits me. I cling to Tyson, burying my face in his chest, and his arms wrap around me tightly. His hand strokes my hair gently, a soothing rhythm against the chaos in my mind.

"Having a child is like having your heart exist outside your body," I say between sobs. "If anything ever happened to Beathan, I don't know what I would do."

Tyson's grip tightens. "I promise, Annette, I'll take every step to ensure your safety. I feel responsible for what happened to Beathan, and I won't rest until I find out who's behind this."

He comforts me with light kisses on my forehead and temple, each calming the storm inside me. The gentle kisses become more passionate, his lips finding mine in a desperate need for connection and reassurance. For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us, and I lose myself in the intensity of his kiss. My hands entwine his hair, and his tongue sweeps across my lips, making me groan. Tyson's hand wraps in my hair and pushes me backward until my ass hits the kitchen counter. My hands move to the hem of his shirt, needing to feel more of him. This kiss is all-consuming, and my body tingles and aches in a way that it hasn't done in a very long time. Tyson pulls back, his eyes hooded as he stares at my mouth. He smiles slightly then leans in, sucking on my bottom lip as his hand fists more of my hair tightly, igniting a flame within me.

I need him in a primal chase-away-all-my-fears kind of way.

Instead of trying to touch more skin, I drop my hands to his belt and zipper. His intake of breath as I graze the front of his pants sets my core on fire.

This is what I need, this is the man—

Suddenly, a piercing scream shatters the moment. "Mommy!" Beathan's terrified cry echoes through the house.

I break away from Tyson and run to Beathan, scooping him in my arms. "It's okay, sweetheart. Mommy's here," I whisper, rocking him gently.

There's a loud sound, and I'm sure it's Sean bursting through the front door. He appears in my bedroom doorway with his gun drawn and eyes wide with alarm.

Sean sees Beathan in my arms, his small body trembling. He nods at me and walks backward as I softly hum a lullaby I've sung to Beathan since he was a baby. His sobs gradually fade, and his eyelids grow heavy until he drifts back to sleep.

I lay him down gently, brushing his hair from his forehead and kissing him one last time. I slip out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind me. Tyson and Sean are waiting in the living room with concern etched on their faces.

"I'm going to lie next to him and get some rest," I tell them, my voice weary.

Tyson nods. "I'll sleep on the couch. I want to be close in case you need anything."

Sean heads for the door. "I'll go back outside and keep watch. No one's getting near this place tonight."

I manage a small smile, grateful for their presence and protection. "Thank you," I whisper, then turn and head back into the bedroom, hoping tonight will bring us all some much-needed peace.