After Glow (Lost Kings MC 11)

Chapter One

Rock

Few things in life can be hidden for long. The sky. The sun. The moon.

The truth.

When I was younger, I thought the biggest regrets in my life would come from choices I knowingly made or the wrong roads I’d traveled. The reality is more complicated.

The biggest regrets come from the places we never expect. From the decisions that we don’t realize until much later are mistakes. Mistakes that, if I allow it, seem hell-bent on devouring everything I’ve tried to build for myself and for my club.

Adrenaline rushes through my veins. Blood pounds in my ears.

The freedom of jumping on my bike and riding until things made sense usually did the trick.

The stretch of road in front of me is clear. No surprise—it’s ass-crack early. An hour ago the pavement was plenty

grippy. Now it’s slick and shiny from a light mist of rain. I’m close to home but resist the urge to open up the throttle. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten a wet ass.

Soon we’ll have an answer. Find out which one of us fathered Inga’s child.

The kid isn’t mine, no use worrying about that.

What’s bothering me right now is that, until the truth comes out, my wife has to deal with the chaos.

Almost home.

I can’t see the turn for our property yet, but I know it’s there. I brake earlier than usual, not liking what the front tire’s telling me about its grip on the road. As I make the turn onto our property, the sky opens up with enough rain to choke a full-grown mallard.

Motherfucker.

I’m soaked and no less agitated by the time I pull into the garage. No one’s around this early to give me shit for taking a ride without rain gear. Although the foul mood I’m in would probably deter anyone from questioning me.

It’s doubtful Hope’s up yet, and I’m still too restless to be in our quiet home. Instead, I step into the clubhouse. Sparky’s passed out on the couch. Hoot’s on the other couch. Somehow Birch and Stash ended up on the floor.

The sight pulls a chuckle from me. I don’t even want to know. I’m sure it has something to do with drinking or smoking their troubles away last night.

Maybe I can work off my frustration in the gym.

Fifty-five minutes of pushing the elliptical to its limits later and the clutter in my head still hasn’t sorted itself out. My legs burn as I tap the incline up another notch.

Physical pain I can tolerate.

The pain being inflicted on my wife over this ordeal, that’s harder to cope with.

Not that she’s said much about it since the day she spoke to Inga’s lawyer.

Maybe it’s in my head, but the tension in her face wasn’t there before we received the petition. She says she’s not stressed. That the case is nothing more than a trivial annoyance. But the lines around her mouth and the way her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes is new too.

All I’ve wanted to do since we found out about baby Grace is pamper my wife. Make life as easy as possible for her so she can concentrate on all the changes taking place in her body and in our world.

Bitterness burns my throat. Dealing with my “ex” was never part of my spoil-the-shit-out-of-Hope plan.

“Fuck!” A loud crack echoes in the room as my fist connects with the plastic monitor in front of me.

“You know the club just replaced those machines, right?”

My fury recedes, or maybe it’s found a new target. I glance up and find Z leaning against the door frame with his arms folded over his chest.

“You tryin’ to break it, or punish yourself for some imaginary crime?” he asks.

“Both.” I grunt and slow my frenetic pace, taking in his lack of a smirk. Concern shoves my anger aside. “You okay?”

He shrugs and strolls into the room, stopping to grab a towel. “This whole thing is pissing me off.”

“Take a number.” I finally stop, and Z tosses the towel my way.

“How’s Hope handling it?” he asks.

“You really come down here to discuss my marriage?”

“Uh, yeah. I actually care about both of you.”

Shaking my head, I run the towel over my face and neck. “Sorry.”

“She mad at you?”

“Doesn’t seem to be.”

“You want her to be. Think she should be pissed at you, right?”

“I’m really not in the mood, Dr. Frazier. Go play relationship counselor somewhere else.”

He snorts. “That’s the last thing I’m trying to do.”

I chuck the towel in the laundry basket and glare at him. “You worried I’m gonna fuck something up?”

“No. You’ve dealt with worse shit and handled it fine.” He gives me a more pointed look. “We have some important things coming up. The security gig for Sway. Another meet with—”

“Jesus Christ, are you my activities director now? I’m aware of what’s coming up. Sway can fuck right off. Babysitting his porn star is at the bottom of my give-a-fuck list.”

His chuckle makes me want to punch him. Definitely didn’t spend enough time working out my frustration.

“Bro, after that fuckery at National, I think Sway’s pissing his pants worrying about Priest taking over his charter.”

“He should be.” As if I can muster up any sympathy for Sway’s predicament. “Did it to himself. Patching in assholes like Shadow and Bull before they were fully vetted.”

“Does any biker who walks in and asks for a patch get one downstate?”

“Fuck if I know. You’d think after Priest point-blank told everyone not to get caught with stolen parts, Sway would’ve had a specific chat with each of his men.”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “You didn’t have one with us.”

I roll my eyes, even though he only pointed it out to fuck with me. “Because I know none of my brothers would pull a stunt like that and disrespect our charter that way.”

He smirks. “And you’re so far up in our business—”

“That too.” Finally, I crack a smile.

Z’s dogs scamper into the room, stopping to sniff my legs. “Hey, guys.” I crouch down, rubbing Ziggy behind his ears. Zipper tolerates that for about five seconds before head-butting him out of the way, seeking my attention. “I have two hands, guys. Calm down.”

Z chuckles. “They’re jealous little shits.”

I give them each one last pat before standing. “Nothing little about them anymore.”

“Right? I’m about to take them for a run if you want to come with?”

“Nah, I have some work I want to get done before Hope wakes up and comes looking for me.”

He cocks his head and drops his smile. “Be serious. She handling this all right?”

My mouth turns up, remembering the two special wake-ups I’d received in the middle of the night thanks to my wife. “She’s been pretty matter-of-fact about the whole thing. Right now she’s pissed it’s taking so long to get the tests set up.”

“I’m with her on that one. I wanna get this over with.”

“Me too.”

He snaps his fingers at the dogs, and their ears perk up. “If she needs something or you need me to do anything, let me know.”

Z’s offer is sincere, and I feel a minor pang of guilt for being such a dick with him. “Thanks, brother.”

I walk out with him, but Trinity’s voice coming from the dining room catches my attention. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

He slaps me on the back before continuing down the hallway with the dogs.

Trinity and Charlotte are seated at one of the dining tables flipping through one of Trinity’s party binders. They both glance up when I shove the dining room door open.

“What’s up, Prez?” Trin asks. “You’re over here early.”

“So are you.”

She grins and motions me closer. “We’re discussing Hope’s shower,” she half-whispers.

I’d been wanting to talk to Trinity about that at some point, so I pull out a chair and join the two of them.

“How are you, Charlotte?”

She flicks the end of her napkin a few times before answering. “Teller told me all about the lawsuit. Sorry this is happening, Rock.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. We’ll deal with it.” I’m pleased I sound as confident as the words I just spouted.

Trinity makes a noise I haven’t heard from her before. “I swear, my blood pressure spikes every time I think about it.” She blows out a breath and flips through the stack of papers in front of her. “We were working on the baby shower to take our minds off it.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

Charlotte tilts her head, and Trinity’s lips curve into a smile. I don’t think either of them expected me to have an opinion.

“We’re th

inking of holding it at Teller and Charlotte’s,” Trinity says.

Charlotte nods vigorously. “We have plenty of room. Marcel just finished the patio, so if the weather’s good...”

“It should be pretty small.” Trinity meets my eyes. “Unless you want it to be a Jack and Jill shower.”

I stare at her.

“Co-ed. The father-to-be and other male family members also come to celebrate the baby.”

“I thought that only works if other dads are there to scare the father-to-be?” Charlotte’s lips quirk into a playful smile. “Murphy and Bricks are the only other dads.”

“I’ve had a ringside seat to Alexa’s antics since she got here.” I crack a smile. That kid is something else. “Hasn’t scared me off yet.”

“She’s a sweet baby, though.” Trinity snickers into her hand. “If Wrath didn’t put you off having kids, nothing will.”

Our inside jokes about Wrath’s toddler tendencies never get old. “I’m fine with the co-ed thing.” I glance at Charlotte. “If you’re sure you’re okay having that many people at your house?”

Again she seems surprised I want her opinion. “We’ve wanted to do something and have everyone over.” She lifts her chin at Trinity. “I don’t want to diminish Hope’s shower in any way, though.” She shrugs and looks at me again. “I know she’s waited a long time for this.”