“Everything is going to be fine. I took care of that son of a bitch. He’ll never attack another woman or breathe another breath,” I reassured her before chugging down the contents of my glass.
“We’re in danger, aren’t we?” Her voice was even and calm.
“You know I will protect you and our little girl. Nothing is going to happen to either of you.” I took her hand. “I promise.”
“I know that, Maccon. I love you.” Her fingertips softly traced the skull and bones tattooed on my forearm.
“And I will always love you.” I shoved away from the table and scooped my wife into my arms in one swift motion. “Now, let’s get you to bed. You’re sleeping for two, after all.”
Flinging her arms around my neck, she kissed me quickly. “Who would have thought Prince Charming wore leather and his steed was a Harley?”
“All those fairytale books got it wrong, babe.”
“That they did,” she cooed as I laid her down on our plush bed.
Climbing in after her, I tucked Allie close into my side. She rested her head in the crook of my shoulder as I rubbed her stomach, and there was nowhere else I would have rather been in that moment.
“What are we going to call this little bundle of joy?” I asked. We had been going back and forth for months, never being able to settle on a name.
“How about McKenzie?” She batted her eyelashes at me, hopeful.
“Nope.” I had vetoed that name from the get-go even though she continually brought it up during these conversations.
“Fine,” she pouted like she always did when I disagreed with her. “What about Emerson?”
There it was, the perfect name for our precious baby. “I love it.”
Her face lit up. “Really?”
“Really, really. Now it’s time for you to get some rest so Emerson can grow big and strong.” I brushed my lips over my sleepy wife’s forehead.
“Good night, handsome,” she murmured as she stifled a yawn.
“Good night, my love.”
Chapter 3
Maccon
Walking into the clubhouse the next afternoon, I was greeted with a sight for sore eyes.
“Maccon!” Abel yelled as he stood up from his seat at the bar. “It’s good to see you again, brother.”
I gave him a quick hug. “It’s been too long.”
“It’s been too quiet in these parts for a while now. About time y’all saw some action in your neck of the woods for a change.” Rave grunted as he walked up to us with a shit-eating grin plastered on his worn face, his axe in its sheath strapped to his back. Ravage was a menacing man in and of himself—tall, grizzled, and wide—but add in his weapon of choice and he was downright scary. That axe had seen more blood than most could even fathom. I guess you don’t get the nickname the Butcher for nothing.
“How are you guys doing? How are Crickett and Raine?” I asked, taking a shot from Abel.
“We’re all good for the most part out in Vilas. Nothing too exciting to report,” Ravage answered.
Abel puffed his chest out with pride before adding, “Crickett is amazing, and Raine is a fifteen-year-old girl. I swear, all my graying hair is from dealing with a teenage daughter.”
“I don’t envy you in the slightest.”
“You have a little one on the way, I hear,” Rave said, congratulating me.
“She’ll be here in a little under two months. Allie is going to be so happy to see the two of you. She’s already started cooking a feast for all of us tonight.”