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The second is finding someone strong enough to give it.

And I know exactly who that someone is.

The memory of Thanksgiving flashes through my mind. Regnor's dark eyes.

His blunt words:"Say the word, and that problem of yours disappears."

Maybe it's time to say the word.

Maybe it's time to admit I can't do this alone.

Maybe it's time to let someone help me, before it's too late for both of us.

If I'm pregnant, everything changes.

CHAPTER TWO

Regnor

"I wanna be more than that."

The words echo in my head like a fucking broken record, taunting me with their truth.

Three days since Thanksgiving, and I can't stop thinking about Everly standing on that deck, bruises barely hidden under her sleeves, fear radiating from every pore.

I shouldn't have said it.

I should've kept my mouth shut like I always do.

But watching her flinch when that piece of shit's name came up, seeing the way she held herself like she was ready to run—something in me snapped.

Now I'm sitting on my bike outside the fire station like some kind of stalker, watching for her car.

She hasn't been to work in days.

Vail mentioned it yesterday at the clubhouse, obviously concerned.

"Third time in two weeks," she'd said. "That's not like Everly at all."

No, it's not.

The Everly I've watched from afar for years, never misses work.

She's dedicated, professional, the kind of person who shows up even when she's sick because she can't stand the thought of letting anyone down.

But that was before Dylan fucking Mitchell got his claws into her.

I drain the last of my coffee, black and bitter like my mood.

The thing is, I've got no right to be here.

No claim on her.

She's not mine to protect, not mine to watch over.

Hell, Kraken made it crystal clear years ago—hands off Everly.

Let her have a normal life away from the club.