“That poor thing,” Hound said, “is going to have to give birth to your giant offspring.”
“C-section,” Briscoe said. “That’s the way to go.”
Walsh sent Mercy a small grin, his well-wishes silent, but deeply felt.
Michael watched the rest of them with a robotic detachment, his expression unreadable as he regarded Mercy from down the table.
Whatever. The most important face was Ghost’s, and he was smiling.
“Alright,” the president said when things had quieted down. “We know why we’re really here.”
Mercy took a deep breath, taking in the scents of old cigarette smoke and wood polish, letting the chapel reach into him, take hold again.
He was back. Finally, after five years, he was back for good. And like Ava had said, he was free, too. All his life, and now, at this point, with his club stretched before him and his woman’s ring on his finger, he was free, and the taste was extraordinary.
Ava found Bonita visiting, when she stepped into Maggie’s office. The former queen seemed to be on her way out, flipping her hair over the collar of her jacket, and she turned a beaming smile on Ava.
“Mira,” she exclaimed. “Look, she’s glowing. Littlemadre.” She came to buss Ava’s cheek. “How do you feel,bambina?”
“A little green,” Ava said.And a little overwhelmed. Back off, woman!
“That will pass,” Bonita said with a wave. “What’s important is that you’re going to have a baby!”
“That’s where pregnancy leads, they tell me.”
The sarcasm lost on her for the moment, Bonita patted her face again as she breezed out. “We will plan you the most wonderful shower!” she called in farewell.
Ava sank down in a chair when she was gone. “She exhausts me,” she muttered.
“Me too,” Maggie agreed. She set aside the folder she was digging through. “How’d the meeting go?”
“I registered for spring classes.”
“Good.” Maggie propped an elbow on the desk, cupped her chin in her hand, and really settled in to stare at Ava. “You good?”
Ava smiled. She knew all the layers behind the simple question, and appreciated her mother’s unparalleled ability to cut to the chase in the gentlest way possible. She leaned back in her chair. “Iamgood.”
Maggie smiled back. “I know you know the ropes, but it’s a little different being married to one.” She made a gesture toward the clubhouse. “It’s riskier. You’ve got so much more to lose, and you’re more in the loop. It’s…” She sighed. “It’s nothing you haven’t already handled. But you’re my baby.” Her smiled twitched in one corner. “And you’ve been through so much.”
Ava said, “But that’s the thing, isn’t it? It’s always so much. And you couldn’t think of being anywhere else.”
“My smart girl.” Maggie blinked and her eyes looked shiny. “You were made for this. I just want you to be happy, too.”
“I am, Mom.”
“I know it.”
Five minutes later, she walked across the Dartmoor lot, in search of her man. It was a cold day, the wind biting and smelling of the river, the sky cloudless, a sharp blue that hurt her eyes, and struck unforgivingly on the acres of corrugated steel. The air was redolent with the old perfume of exhaust and pavement and motor oil. Ava pulled the halves of her long coat together against the wind and thanked heaven for the chance to return here, unscathed, to home.
She ran into Aidan in front of the clubhouse. “He’s working,” he said of Mercy. “I’ve got a buncha imports for him to take a look at.”
“Really?” She was surprised and pleased, and a little bit worried.
“I told him not to overdo it,” Aidan said. “Not that he’ll listen.”
“Thanks.” She started to turn, to double back to the bike shop, but paused, catching her brother by the sleeve. “Hey, Aidan. I mean it. Thank you.” For all that he’d done, since he’d headed to New Orleans for them.
He looked awkward, like he didn’t know what to do with her gratitude. “Just don’t get into any more bike crashes, okay?” he said, gruffly, tugging at a lock of her hair.
