Page 17 of Shine: Sins of the Father (Evil Dead MC: Second Generation #8)

Fiona—

Almost every minute of the day is taken up with work. When the shop isn’t open, I’m baking products and preparing all the call-ahead orders.

I’ve had several people ask if I deliver, and maybe someday I’ll be able to hire someone for that. Right now, it’s just me running the show. Janey, God bless her, helps whenever she can, especially with parties on Sunday, but I know it’s time to hire some help.

I’ve got a stack of applicants I need to go through. I can only afford to pay minimum wage right now, which makes it difficult to find the right candidate.

I’m hoping once I get more help, I’ll be able to offer smoothies or fancy coffees. Right now, I know I’d never have time to make them and wait on other customers. I’d spend my entire day being a barista.

It’s the dream, though. Someday I’ll make it happen.

I’m always looking for opportunities for other streams of income beyond sweets.

The parties have been a gold mine. I had no idea parents were willing to pay so much.

They just love the way I’ve decorated and the care I take.

I try to make each party as custom to the birthday girl as I can, and they love the dress-up section I’ve assembled with all kinds of princess dresses.

I’ve hired a face-painter to come in on party days as part of the package, and that’s been a big hit. She makes the little girls beautiful.

It's 6pm on Saturday night, and I flip the sign on the door to closed, locking up. My back is killing me, so I drop into a chair.

My stomach is just beginning to round, and I stroke my hand over it. I’ve been able to hide it with my loose apron, but I know the time is quickly approaching when it will become too obvious to hide.

Janey has been my rock. She found me crying in the back on opening day and took me in her arms and held me. Then she wiped away my tears and gave me a pep talk before anyone else could see me.

She’s stepped up like a trooper, taking on as much as she can. However, she’s back at school now, and the hours she can give me have gotten limited. I’m thankful I can finally afford some help.

Cody has been great. He’s kept his word and hasn’t told my secret. Plus, he stops in at least once a week to check on me and usually snags a free cupcake.

He’s been a really good friend. I know someday soon he’ll get his patch, and he so deserves it.

I stand, rubbing the small of my back and begin wiping down the counter. I hear a motorcycle ride past, and glance up to see a young couple on a sport bike.

Every time I hear a motorcycle, I can’t help but think of Shine.

I’ve thought of him every night as I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, thinking about the baby.

Cody was right. He deserves to know, but there’s no way I’m telling him.

He thinks I’m a stripper, after all. He’s a biker and probably has no desire to become a father.

A million excuses fill my head, like they always do.

Shine isn’t the only man I have to consider.

I dread my father finding out. I know he’s going to flip, and he’s going to demand to know the name of the father.

That’s something I’ll never tell, because I know if I did, he’d want to kill Shine.

At the very least, he’d ride straight to Vegas and beat the shit out of him.

I have no doubt my father could do it. There’s nothing scarier than a pissed-off papa bear.

My father is the definition of overprotective.

If it’s ever found out, my relationship with Shine would cause so much drama in the club, and I do not want to be the reason for that.

There’s a knock on the glass, and I turn to find Rafe standing there, his hand cupped to his eyes, trying to see in. Beyond him, I see his truck parked at the curb.

I grin and open the door. “What are you doing here?”

He rubs the top of my head, messing up my hair as he steps across the threshold. “What? Can’t I come check on you? Maybe I want a cupcake.”

“The second part, I believe.” I close the door behind him and move around behind the case, grabbing him a red velvet. “So, what’s new with you? How’s Tori doing? Don’t you have a lumber mill to run?”

“We closed an hour ago. And Tori’s fine. She goes to court tomorrow for the sentencing of Alex Powers.”

“Oh, right. The man who owns that vineyard.”

“Yeah, Lorenzo Cellars.”

“Well, that will finally be over, huh?”

“Yeah, they got him and the foreman, Charlie Thompson, for conspiracy and arson. Word is they could get a minimum of three to five years. Maybe more, depending on the judge.”

“I know the entire mill burned, but at least no one was killed,” I say.

“Tori’s father took it pretty hard, but it’s mostly rebuilt now, and business is looking up. Plus, he’s suing Powers for damages. Before it’s all over, Raymond Sawyer might own Lorenzo Cellars lock, stock and barrel for what he did.”

“Is he happy with your work? You’re doing a good job, right?”

“He is, yeah. I think there are ways we can improve.”

“You like working for your father-in-law?”

“Yeah, I do. We get along great now. I’m happy there, and Tori is happy her father and I have buried our differences. It’s all good. How about you? I hear business is great.” He proceeds to polish off the cupcake.

“It is. I’m actually at a point I can afford to hire some help.”

“That’s great, Fee.” He licks his thumb.

I turn to write tomorrow’s special on the board, stretching high.

“You need a footstool?” Rafe asks.

“I’ve got it.” I finish writing the flavor of the day when I hear Rafe suck in a breath.

“Fiona. What the hell?”

I turn to find him staring at my stomach. “You been eating too many cupcakes?”

“Are you calling me fat?” I move behind the register, and adjust the apron, but I feel my eyes sting. Oh, God. Not now. Don’t you dare tear up .

Suddenly, Rafe’s joking expression fades from his face, and he frowns. “Fee, take off that apron.”

“Quit teasing me. If you call me fat again, you can just leave.” I point at the front door, really hoping he’ll go.

“Fiona.”

“What?” I reply, but won’t look at him. I busy myself with printing the end-of-day register totals. I hit a few buttons, and the tape starts printing. It’s two feet long before Rafe reaches across the counter and takes my hand.

“Hey.”

Now I have to look at him. “What?”

“Are you knocked up?”

“What a crude thing to say, you jerk.” I yank my hand free.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But your belly’s poked out like you're pregnant. You’re not, are you?”

“Just leave, Rafe. I’m tired and done with your jokes.”

But he won’t be put off.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not.”

I do everything I can to avoid meeting his gaze, but he will not be deterred.

Finally, I look at him, but the words stick in my throat.

I want to lie, but I can’t. And then my eyes fill, and I know I’m done for.

The jig is about to be up, because my brother is going to make sure everyone in the family finds out this news.

He rears back like I just tried to bite him. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Just go.”

“You’re pregnant? For real?”

I still won’t answer, and I go back to what I was doing.

“Who the hell is the father?” Rafe stills. “Seriously, Fiona. Who am I killing today? It better not be one of those frat boys.”

“It’s not.”

“Do Mom and Dad know?”

“Nobody knows. Except Janey. Please don’t tell them.”

His brows lift. “It’s not Cody, is it?”

Now it’s my turn to rear back. “Cody? No, why would you say that?”

“Well, he’s been coming by here a lot, and he’s the one who told me I should pop in and check on you.”

“Cody told you to check on me?”

“Yeah.” Rafe points at my stomach. “Did he know about this?”

I’ll defend Cody to the end. “Of course not. He just likes free cupcakes.”

“Long as that’s all he’s getting for free. He better not be comin’ round for another reason, because I’ll make sure he never gets that fucking patch.”

“Oh my God, Rafe. He and I grew up in the club together. He’s like a brother to me. Eww.”

“Fine. Good. Then tell me who did this to you.”

“Who did this to me?” My voice squeaks.

“You know what I mean, Fiona. Give me a name.”

“I don’t have to give you anything. You’re not my father.” The minute the words are out of my mouth, Rafe’s brows lift, and I wish I hadn’t said them.

“Yeah, well, I know who your father is.” With that, he pulls his phone out.

I immediately dash around the counter and grab his arm. “Do not call Dad. Please Rafe. Don’t.”

He jerks his arm free and continues with the phone pressed to his ear.

“Hey, Ma. What are you doing?” He looks at me. “Oh, I’m down at Fiona’s eating a red velvet cupcake. It’s really good. You should come by. What’s that? You’re in the area. Cool. And Dad’s in the car with you? Great.”

When he disconnects, I glare at him. “I hate you.”

He folds his arms. “Look at it this way; I did it for you. Now you don’t have to worry anymore about who’s gonna find out. It’ll all be out in the open. Won’t that be better than hiding it? Won’t it be a relief?”

“No!” I snap. “It’s my decision whether or not to tell them, not yours. God, Rafe, why can’t you mind your own business?”

“You’re my kid sister. You are my business.”

“I want you to leave. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere until they get here.”

“Rafe, please. I can’t do this today. I’m exhausted.”

“And that’s another thing. You shouldn’t be doing all this by yourself in your condition. You’ve got a family, Fiona. We’re here to take the load off you. You know, that’s what’s always been wrong with you. You always think you have to do everything by yourself.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

A flash of headlights arcs across the windows, and I spot my mother’s Corvette pulling in. Oh crap. My heart races, and my blood pounds in my ears. Is this what an anxiety attack feels like?