Where Souls Spoil (Bayonet Scars Series, Volume I) (Bayonet Scars #1-4.5)

It’s just a few more minutes of sitting and waiting. I’m bundled up in my Forsaken hoodie, enjoying the sounds of the city, sleepy as it may be around here. The familiar growl of Dad’s bike sounds down the road, and I jump up from my seat and rush down the flight of stairs that brings me to the sidewalk. Excitement overtakes me—I might get a shopping trip out of this. Dad makes the trip down twice a month, and at least one of those is with Holly. His last trip down, he didn’t bring her, so this time she will be coming with him.

My heart falls when he comes into view, rolling down the street alone on his bike. Holly’s not with him, and that worries me. It’s not like I keep track of which time she comes and which time she doesn’t come, but she has consistently visited at least once a month. The times she doesn’t come with Dad are normally because he’s doing something for the club they don’t want her to have to see. But her not being here right now makes me nervous, freaking me out that maybe he finally screwed up their relationship. And just when I was convinced she was so stupid in love that there was nothing he could do to mess it up.

When he pulls into the short driveway that ends at the single-car garage that’s barely bigger than a queen-size bed, he cuts the bike off quickly, removes his helmet, and strides to me with a big grin on his face. I’m starting to think maybe he smoked a little too much before he left Fort Bragg, because there are very few things in this earth that can make Sterling Grady smile that wide when he sober. He envelops me in a tight hug, even lifting me off the ground like he used to when I was little. Yep, definitely high.

“How stoned are you, old man?” I love that he’s happy to see me, but I can’t help but question his strangely upbeat mood.

“Not very,” he says. “I’m just happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you, too, so don’t take this the wrong way—where the hell is my Holly?” I pull back and give him a disappointed pout.

“Decided it was best she stay behind this time,” Dad says. Asshole.

“Why would you go and do something stupid like that?”

“I needed to talk to you alone,” he says. With everything ugly that’s happened with the club lately and all the turmoil and grief, I can’t imagine he has good news to share. He seems to be pretty upbeat, but his wanting to talk to me alone is troublesome. The whole situation is making me paranoid. If he tells me Jeremy is hurt or isn’t being patched in, I’m going to lose my shit. I’ll be back home faster than he will, he can bet on that.

“Because…” he says. Draping an arm over my shoulder, he leads me up the stairs and sits in one of the two wooden chairs on the front porch. I take the other, trying to give him the opportunity to explain himself before I get upset. It takes longer than I think it should for him to give me a reasonable explanation for his poor behavior, but when he does, I instantly regret being a jerk. “I could never ask a woman to marry me without first asking for your blessing.”

I sit in silence, staring at him in confusion. He wants to marry Holly? That’s why he didn’t want her to come? My brain is slow to process it, but really, if there were ever an excuse for denying me my Holly time, this would be it.

“You say no, I won’t do it, kid. I gotta know you’re good with this.”

“It’s always been me, you, and Grandma,” I say thoughtfully. Even before Holly, something felt like it was missing in our family. Now that we have her, I know she’s the piece that was missing.

“Yeah, a lot of shit is changing. Club’s lost people—we’ve lost people.” His voice is so low it’s barely audible. “She’s pregnant. Due in June.”

My breath hitches, trying to make sense of each bomb he’s dropping. I search my heart for a clear thought but can’t find one. I love Holly, I love Dad, and I’m sure I’ll love the baby, too. But a very large, selfish part of me is suddenly terrified that a biological child she gets to raise is going to matter more to her than I do. And I’m so far away…

“That’s awesome,” I say, forcing myself to push through my own petty concerns. Dad notices the slight unease in my voice and raises his eyebrows.

“June? How long have you known?” I ask. The idea of being left out of this monumental event upsets me. I was just home for Christmas a few weeks ago. If she’s due in June, Holly has to be like four months along now. She would have known over Christmas. She would have known at Nic’s voting-in party, which I fucking attended back in December. She might have even fucking known at Thanksgiving. What the fuck?

“A while now, but there was some spotting and a chance she wouldn’t make it. Holly didn’t want to tell you about her until we knew she was going to be okay,” he says. A soft smile takes over his entire face.

“I’m going to have a sister,” I say in astonishment. The idea of having a mini Holly and not a mini Dad pacifies me some.

“Hey, you’re still my baby girl, okay? I don’t give a shit how old you get or whose old lady you become, got that?”

I nod my head and take the opportunity to change the subject. I want to feel undiluted happiness for Dad and Holly, but I just can’t shake the fear that I’m going to rate second from now on.

“You been taking care of Jeremy for me?” I ask.