Page 26 of Kingpin (Blackjacks MC #1)

Kingpin - Four Months Later

“Honey, we should have been at the clubhouse ten minutes ago.” I rapped my knuckles lightly on the bathroom door. “Is everything okay?”

Hattie was never late. Never. She prided herself on that.

“I’m coming,” she replied, hurrying out as she fussed with her hair. “So bossy and impatient. Do you have the present for Blackbeard?”

I gestured toward the driveway.

“Already packed on the bike. Let’s go.”

We were having a big bash for Blackbeard’s forty-fifth birthday at the clubhouse. I couldn’t wait to nag the bastard about getting old and going gray.

Hattie grabbed her helmet by the door. Although I couldn’t help noticing that she seemed…frazzled. She wouldn’t meet my gaze either. I caught her arm as she passed me. Cradling her chin, I tilted her head up to meet my eyes.

“Didn't you say we were running late?" she said.

I frowned.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “I lost track of time, that’s all.”

I searched her face. That didn’t feel right. In fact, it felt like a lie.

“You never lose track of time. Not once in your life.”

Hattie brushed my arm off.

“Well, when you’re creeping toward fifty like I am, your brain starts to slip a little.”

I knew a distraction when I saw one, and Hattie was trying to throw me off her scent. But I released her arm and let her go. For now. I’d pry an honest answer out of her later.

In mid-October, the leaves were blazing with red, orange, and gold. My breath fogged in the crisp, cool air. As long as there wasn’t snow on the ground, my bike would remain on the road.

Hattie huddled behind me for warmth as we headed to the clubhouse. She loved the bike now, and we took joy rides every Sunday afternoon, following the road wherever it would take us.

When we arrived at the clubhouse, the parking lot was full and the party was in full swing. Blackbeard had a large, sprawling family—cousins, aunts, uncles, siblings, and in-laws—and it seemed like everyone who was even distantly related to him had managed to cram themselves inside.

I veered into a scrubby patch of grass behind the clubhouse and parked. After helping Hattie off the bike, I handed Blackbeard’s present to her for safe keeping. I hooked my finger into her belt loop with a tug, pulling her against me.

“You’re not thinking about making a run for it again, are you?” I asked lightly.

I knew she wouldn’t. But something was off about her this morning, and I wouldn’t rest easy until she told me what was going on.

Hattie rolled her eyes and rose on tiptoe with a quick peck to my lips.

“I’m not running, I swear. I’m fine, Neil.”

She hooked her arm through mine, tugging me toward the clubhouse.

When we stepped inside, a blast of music and laughter greeted us.

Blackbeard wore a paper crown, lopsided on his head, with dozens of ropey beaded necklaces draped around his neck.

Cousins, nieces, and nephews clamored around him as he passed out candy.

His abuela scolded him in Spanish from the bar, carrying a plate piled high with food.

“Diego, sit down and eat,” she called. “You’re too skinny. I spent all morning in the kitchen and you haven’t even touched a bite yet.”

Blackbeard waded through the kids as they fished around in his pockets for more candy. His abuela held up a bite of food on a fork with an insistent look.

“Abuela, I can feed myself—” he protested.

“Eat!”

He sighed and closed his mouth around the fork, taking the bite. His abuela beamed and patted his shoulder.

“You’re a good boy. But you shouldn’t be single at your age. Why don’t you have a wife yet?”

Blackbeard glanced up and noticed Hattie and me by the door. He waved us in, looking somewhat relieved at the distraction.

“It’s about time you two showed up,” he said. “I was getting ready to send out a search party. Maybe you can convince Abuela that I’m not the marrying kind, and any woman who bothered to marry me would be miserable.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Hattie countered, setting the gift on a nearby table with the other gifts. “Abuela, keep wearing him down.”

Blackbeard swore softly. His Abuela swatted him and clucked her tongue.

“Watch your language, Diego. Such a filthy mouth.”

“Believe me, Abuela,” he replied. “The ladies don’t have any problem with that.”

She gasped and swatted him again. He laughed, skirting out of reach.

I watched Hattie during the party. Searching for signs that would indicate why she’d been so distracted and reserved lately. If something was bothering her, she would tell me in her own time. But I hated waiting. Hated thinking that she was fighting some invisible battle alone, without me.

The only thing that brought me some measure of comfort was seeing her wearing the cut I had made for her. Kingpin’s Property arched across her back in bold letters, announcing to the world that she was mine. And my ring glittered on her finger. She never took it off these days.

After the gifts had been opened, and half the food had been demolished, the door opened. Nine bikers filed in.

Instantly, everyone in the clubhouse bristled at the newcomers’ colors.

Forsaken MC.

I pushed my chair back, wood scraping against wood, rising to my feet. I caught Hattie’s eye on the other side of the room and beckoned to her. She practically flew to my side.

The Forsaken fanned out, surveying the room. They weren’t here for the party.

“What the fuck do you want?” I demanded.

The leader, Al “Popeye” Bradbury, stepped forward and gestured at the room. He was a grizzly old man—older than me—with a patch over one eye, a brawny build, and forearms covered in sailor tattoos from his time spent in the Navy.

“We were in the area and we thought we’d drop by to extend a neighborly hello.”

“You’re not welcome here,” Blackbeard said, gruffly. “So you can take your neighborly hello and shove it up your ass.”

Crash dropped his beer, glass shattering on the floor, and started forward. Vlad grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and yanked him back.

“You fuckers killed my brother,” Crash spat.

Popeye put a hand over his heart in nothing but a condescending gesture.

“And I sincerely apologize for that. Why don’t we let bygones be bygones?”

Crash swore and fought against Vlad’s hold. Vlad shoved him down into a chair, one meaty hand clamped on his shoulder to keep him in place.

“You know damn well you’re not welcome here, Popeye,” I said.

The Forsaken had been a thorn in our side for years. Testing the boundaries of our turf. On more than one occasion, we got into a heated skirmish or two, protecting what belonged to us, what we’d fought so hard to build.

Popeye held up his hands in surrender.

“Time to go, boys,” he said. “We wouldn’t want to ruin the fun.”

He waited while his brothers filed out again, one by one. Then Popeye gave a salute to me.

“Maybe we can come to an agreement sometime in the future. Wouldn’t you like to settle this tiff between our clubs once and for all?”

“I’ll rest easy when you’re dead and buried,” I shot back.

He chuckled.

“You’re an old dog, too, Kingpin. Your days are numbered just like mine.”

Before I could reply, he ducked out the door. Engines revved in the parking lot with a deafening roar. Then silence descended on the clubhouse again.

I wrapped an arm around Hattie’s waist, pulling her close to kiss her temple.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded.

“You knew those men?"

“It’s been a few years since we butted heads. I honestly thought they might have backed down…”

Crash shoved Vlad away and stormed out of the clubhouse. Poor kid was probably furious that he couldn’t get his hands on the men who murdered his brother.

I searched the room until I met Gatling’s gaze. All it took was a flick of my wrist to indicate the order he already anticipated. Keep a lookout for Forsaken who might be hanging around to cause trouble.

Gatling dipped his head in acknowledgement and slipped from the room, quiet as a shadow.

“I’ll go talk to the kid,” Big G said.

I exchanged a glance with Blackbeard. The Forsaken would be back. And this time, they were going to hit our territory hard in an effort to claim it for themselves.

Two hours later, the party began to wind down. Hattie was in the kitchen, helping to put away the massive amount of leftover food. I placed my hand on the small of her back.

“How are you doing?"

She looked up at me, searching my face.

“I’m fine. But it sounds like trouble is brewing on the horizon for you.”

I sighed and kissed her cheek.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Hattie chewed her lower lip, looking as if she wanted to say something else. Then she shook her head and decided against it.

“What?” I prompted.

“Nothing,” she replied, turning away.

I took her by the hips, guiding her to face me.

“You’ve been off for the past few days,” I said. “Are you worried about the club? Is that it?”

“No, it’s—well, yes, I always worry about that a little bit. But…”

Hattie fiddled with my silver chain. She usually toyed with it when she need to soothe her mind. I waited for her to continue when she was ready. She swallowed and blew out a breath, then dragged her gaze up to meet mine.

“I’m pregnant, Neil,” she whispered. “I took three tests today. That’s why we were late. I had to be sure.”

The air punched out of my lungs.

Holy fuck. We were going to have a baby. At fifty-five years old, I would be a father. Something I never thought possible.

Hattie took my hand and pressed it to her stomach.

“I had hoped for this. For so long. When we got married again, I didn’t really think about it anymore. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together, and that was enough for me. But now…”

“It’s okay to be scared,” I replied.

She smiled softly.

“But I’m not. I’m ready for this. For a little boy, who looks just like you. Or a little girl who has you wrapped around her little finger.”

I managed a faint laugh.

“I wish I was as brave as you are.”

Worry flickered across her face. I realized how that sounded—like I wasn’t happy about the baby. I brushed my knuckles against her cheek.

“I just meant that you’ve always known you wanted to have a child. You wanted to be a mother. I…didn’t want to turn out like my old man. So, I figured it was safer to assume that being a father wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“You’re nothing like your dad, Neil,” Hattie whispered.

I wished I could believe that. But I still saw his face when I looked in the mirror—his gray eyes, the line of his nose, the set of his mouth.

And his anger. Simmering just beneath the surface.

My father had turned it against me, beating me black and blue.

But I used my anger to defend my club, protecting my family.

I took Hattie’s arms and pulled them up around my neck, bringing her body flush against mine. She hugged me tight without a word, letting the news sink in.

“I’m going to need all the help I can get, chasing after our little rugrat,” I said. “I can’t imagine my knees will be in good shape by the time the kid is old enough to play catch in the yard.”

Hattie chuckled and broke away to look at me.

“You have plenty of men to back you up.”

Fuck, I loved her. More than words could ever say. My wife and soon to be the mother of my child.

“I hope you’re aware that I’m going to be a pain in the ass from here on out,” I said. “If you thought I was overprotective before, you’ll be smothered now.”

Hattie shrugged.

“Well, I would expect nothing less from my husband.”

Something primal curled around my heart at her words. I looped my arms around her, crushing her against my chest. Hattie smiled, kissing me, slow and deep and all-consuming.

My wife. Carrying our child. Just when I had resigned myself to losing her, she came back to me and made me the happiest man in the world.