Perfect Rage (Unyielding 3)

His thumbs stroked back and forth on my temples as he took his time responding.

“The doctor says you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Me and the baby.”

He flinched at that and let me go before striding away. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hand raking through his hair.

My heart shot off and worry invaded. Maybe he wouldn’t adjust to something like this. I protectively placed my hand on my stomach where the result of our love grew.

Kai stopped at the window, staring outside, his body tense and the air heavy between us.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Was he pissed? Sometimes it was really annoying trying to read Kai.

“What about school?” he finally asked. “It’s important to you.”

“I can finish my year.” It would be cutting it close, but I’d be able to do my finals in April just before the baby was born.

When he turned to face me, his brows were low and eyes dark. “Is this something you want, London?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I want our baby, Kai. I’ve never thought about it before, but now it’s all I think about. But I want you to be happy, too, and I have no idea what you’re thinking right now and it’s driving me crazy. So can you please put me out of my misery and tell me so I can react and deal with it?”

He came toward me, the corners of his mouth twitching. He put one finger under my chin. “You want to know how I feel?”

“Yes.”

He dipped his head and gently kissed me then he whispered, “You’re my always.” He kissed me again and his hand trailed down my chest to rest on my belly. “But, babe,” — I held my breath— “this is our always. And a fuckin’ miracle.”

I squealed and leapt into his arms. He chuckled, his hands going under my ass and picking me up while I curved my legs around his waist, my arms his neck. “You’re really good with this?”

“I didn’t know how I’d feel about it because I don’t waste my time thinking about what-ifs, babe.” He carried me to the bedroom. “But, yeah, I’m good with it. More than good. I can’t say I’m not going to be overprotective of you and a strict-as-hell father, especially if we have a girl.”

I smiled as he laid me on the bed, him following, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of me. I weaved my fingers into his hair, drawing him closer. “Since when haven’t you been overprotective?”

He smirked. “True, but now I have an excuse for it.”

I laughed, but his mouth taking mine quickly smothered it. And then Kai did what he always did. He proved to me he was mine and I was his always.Question 15: Favorite flower?I CROUCHED BESIDE my bike making adjustments, not bothering to look up when footsteps approached.

“Gate. What are you doing here?” I continued to crank on the wrench tightening the bolt.

Out of my peripheral, I saw his black leather boots, dusty from the graveled driveway. He stood on the opposite side of my bike.

“I came to see you. And no, Deck didn’t ask me to.”

I remained silent.

“He never stopped searching for you,” Vic said. “He was bringing you home no matter what.”

Deck. I expected nothing less from him because he’d do that for every single member of his team. And if our places were reversed, I’d have done the same. It was just how we worked, so despite him being a pain in my ass, I got why he was a pain in my ass.

Up until a few weeks ago, my mind hadn’t worked that way. I didn’t give a shit about Deck or anyone else except Alina. That had changed as the foggy blurred lines in my messed-up head cleared.

The rage lingered like a match constantly struck, but not always catching fire. I worried about Alina’s safety, but I did everything I could short of leaving her in order to prevent anything from happening.

Fuck, I hated being unable to sleep with her in my arms. That was the hardest, climbing out of her bed while she slept and going to the other room. Most mornings I woke long before her and slipped back into her bed. That was if I’d had a good night. If I hadn’t, I ran along the beach or rode my bike for a couple hours to get rid of the haunting images. The other night, I woke and pulled my gun on a ghost. The fuckin’ ghost of Moreno.

“Did you see me at the track that day?” Vic asked.

I tossed the wrench in my leather saddlebag attached to the side of my bike. “Yeah.”

“Did you hear what I yelled?”

I finally looked at him. “‘Riot, you son-of-a-bitch, get your ass out here and stop being a pussy?’ Is that what you’re talking about?” I’d heard and seen him as I waited up in a pine tree while the rain pounded down on me.