Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

“Take him slow,” Laynie told Summer. “Dust wants to see him out back. Here, let me walk behind you.”


The old nurse grabbed Alex, carrying him along with us, while Summertime opened the door. We slowly trundled down the hall, passing the empty bar, heading for the first church session I'd had in fuckin' forever.

Halfway there, Alex yawned in Laynie's arms, and then belted out a sound that stopped us in our tracks.

“Da-da-da!” he giggled, clapping his little hands.

My shoulder burned like a complete motherfucker as I whipped my head around. Damn if it wasn't worth it.

The kid watched me like I'd just flown down from the moon and handed him a chocolate bar. He admired me. Fuck, he knew who I was, finally, his own flesh. His old man.

“Oh my God,” Summer gushed, throwing her arms around my neck, kissing me on the cheek. “It's about time! I've been waiting for him to say it forever.”

My lips quirked, sly as ever. “And we're celebrating with a peck on the cheek? Come on, girl, just because I have a walker doesn't mean I'm eighty fuckin' years old. Give it up.”

Laughing, she leaned in. I pushed my fingers through her hair, holding myself up with the one good arm. I'd crawl over rusty nails to taste these lips.

Really fuckin' taste them.

I drank her deep, kissing her like I hadn't for weeks, because I'd been too fucked up. My lips were hungry, making up for lost time. Even my dick came outta its coma, straining in my pants.

Fuck, my lust didn't know my own limits. I didn't care.

“Shit, bro, there you are!” Sixty interrupted the perfect moment a second later. “Everybody's waiting for you! Need a hand?”

“Nah. I'll take it from here,” I said, watching him approach, Lion at his side. Two scruffy bastards, the opposite of the sweet, suckable face I remembered how bad I wanted to ravage.

“Later, babe. We'll catch up later,” I promised, looking back over my shoulder.

I saw Laynie pass the kid to his ma. They stood there the whole time while the brothers helped me along, underneath the neon red beer sign, smiling like I'd just handed her the world.

If only she knew what I was planning to drop on her later, as soon as I got my full strength back, or close enough to it.

Woman didn't have a clue. She wasn't the one who should've been there, looking at me with those, loving puppy dog eyes.

She'd given me everything. Her and that kid. Family.

Soon, I'd be giving it back.



*

Grandpa sat in his wheelchair next to Dust, our guest of honor, who hadn't been to the clubhouse in at least a solid year. They were all gathered around the old fire pit, all the boys, full patch only.

“Christ, Joker. They really busted you up bad,” the old man said, shaking his head. “That why I'm here?”

“No, Grandpa. It's fine. You're here 'cause some other fuckers got what they deserved. Prez, show him.”

Dust nodded to Firefly, who stood up from a big rock. He'd been sitting on the torn scraps we'd pulled off Hatch in the end, right before we poured gasoline all over their clubhouse and lit it the fuck up.

“Take it,” Firefly said, nodding respectfully to Grandpa.

His old hands shook when he took the scraps. He needed about another minute to realize what the fuck he was holding, turning it over, studying it.

“Shit. No, fuck, no. You boys bullshittin' me?” He looked up, staring at me, and then moved his eyes along the brothers, one by one.

“No bullshit,” Dust said, reaching over to squeeze his hands. “These came straight off Piece's killer. Joker heard the fuckin' devil admit it himself.”

Grandpa lost it. He slumped back in his wheelchair, clutching the dead man's patches, staring through the tangled branches reaching over the clubhouse to the sky.

If he were younger, maybe he would've screamed.

Fuck. I walked over, forcing myself to through the pain, shaking my head at the brothers who were halfway off their seats, ready to help me.

Didn't fuckin' need it for this. I had the strength.

This was a moment for the brotherhood, for my family, written in blood. I crouched down on the empty seat next to him, threw my arm around his shoulder, squeezing him as tight as I could.

“God. Fuck. Damn.” Grandpa shook when he said each word, overwhelmed. “Finally. I can go to my fucking grave in peace, seeing this.”

“No fuckin' way, old man,” I growled, waiting 'til he looked at me, seeing the tears in his old eyes. “You've got at least a few more good years, being a great grandpa, before we let you bite the bullet.”

His wrinkled face smiled. “You're a good boy, Jackson. All you boys.”

He looked up, taking my hand for a second, before I let him go back to clutching the bloodied trophies he was holding. “Dusty, you've done right by this club. Right by me. You did what you said, even if it was a long goddamned detour.”