Kate
TWO WEEKS LATER
It was my fault,I guessed.
How it all fell apart.
I got too comfortable.
Content in a way I hadn’t thought my soul was capable of.
There was a ticking clock somewhere deep inside of me, and I was always mindful of it, knowing that I would have to make serious decisions soon. Very soon. As much as I loved it here, with Swiss, I couldn’t abandon my daughter. I needed to see her. My heart wasn’t beating right without her, and I was counting down the moments until I got to see her face again.
But I spoke to her often. I knew she was happy, healthy, safe. That was enough for now.
And I had an identity outside of being her mother, outside of being Preston’s wife and punching bag.
I was… alive in a way I’d never thought possible.
“You know your pinky is out,” a voice teased.
I blinked to my left, to where the voice was coming from.
Swiss was grinning at me, his eyes warm molasses.
My heart skipped at that grin. At the movement of his muscles as he walked toward me. My eyes ran over the exposed skin hungrily, even though it had been pressed against mine less than an hour ago.
“Only you, Countess, would drink beer with your fucking pinky out,” he teased, yanking me in to kiss the side of my forehead.
“My pinky wasn’t out,” I argued.
His eyes danced. “Your pinky was most definitely fuckin’ out.” He looked to Hansen who was leaning against the bar, close to Macy. “Brother, help me out. She was definitely drinkin’ with her pinky out.”
Hansen looked at me, the left side of his mouth turning upward to expose his teeth. “Sorry, Kate… There was definitely an upturned picky.”
Macy slapped him on the chest. “You’re not supposed to agree with Swiss,” she snapped.
Hansen looked to his wife. “Sorry, darlin’,” he conceded immediately.
I grinned into my beer, leaning against Swiss as I watched the president of one of the most dangerous outlaw motorcycle clubs in the country back down without a fight to his small, fairy princess looking wife.
A sight to see.
“Kate.”
The smile froze on my face as the beer slipped from my fingers, smashing on the floor.
Everyone looked to me, smiles gone.
“Baby?” Swiss asked in concern, pulling us back from the glass and liquid quickly spreading on the floor.
But Swiss didn’t exist. The man who spoke my name had all of my attention.
I turned my head to see Preston, standing in the middle of the common room.
I had no idea how he got in there. Much later I would find out how he’d found me, how he’d managed to make an appointment at the garage then walked into the clubhouse as if he owned the place.
But that wasn’t important now. What was important was that my husband had found me.