I raised my glass in a mock toast. “Words of wisdom from the man who swears by rattling bones and whispering to spirits.”
Juju shrugged, his grin widening. “Don’t knock it till ya try it.”
The sound of boots on wood signaled the approach of one of my brothers. Thore appeared, his imposing figure cutting through the lively crowd. He gave me a nod before taking the seat beside me. “Boss, the shipment came in. All’s good on that front.”
I acknowledged him with a brief nod, grateful for the smooth operation but far too consumed by my own predicament to celebrate. “Thanks, man. Keep an eye on things.”
“Will do.” He hesitated, his brows furrowed. “Everything okay with the devil woman?”
I sighed, the weight of impending chaos pressing down on me. “She’s mad. No—furious. But she’s here, and that’s what matters.”
Thore slapped me on the shoulder, his expression one of camaraderie and reassurance. “She’ll come around. Women like her—they don’t stay mad long.”
Juju interjected, his grin sly. “Unless you give them reason to. You sure you ain’t poked the bear one too many times, boss?”
The laughter that followed tugged a smile out of me, despite the storm clouds hanging over my head. My brothers knew how to lighten my mood, and tonight, I needed their antics as much as I needed the whiskey in my glass. The night stretched ahead, full of revelry and the kind of chaos only New Orleans could deliver. But the real battle awaited me upstairs, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face it.
Or the fact that I was going to be a father.
Yeah, I still hadn’t wrapped my head around that one.
Me, a father!
The thought spiraled, pulling at my focus as I swirled the amber liquid in my glass. Fatherhood. It was a word that felt foreign, distant, yet here it was, staring me down like a challenge I wasn’t sure I could meet. The haunting melody from the corner of the bar didn’t help—it was as if the saxophone player had peeled back my defenses, letting my emotions flow unrestrained.
“Boss, you’re thinking too hard,” Juju said, leaning back with his ever-present grin, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the table. “You got this.”
I wanted to believe him. Hell, I needed to believe him. But the weight of the unknown bore down on me, heavier than the responsibility of running this club. It wasn’t the logistics—I could handle diapers and midnight cries—but the emotional part? Being the rock this child would need? That was a different beast entirely.
Thore glanced at me, his sharp gaze cutting through the haze of my thoughts. “She’s got fire, that woman. And you’ve got grit. Between the two of you, you’ll make it work.”
I nodded, though the confidence didn’t quite sink in. Upstairs lay more than just the future mother of my child; there lay the crossroads of my life. And I wasn’t sure which path I’d choose—or if I could stand on either without falling.
The surrounding laughter faded into the background as I stared into my drink. They were my brothers, always there to lift me up, but this? This was a journey I’d have to walk alone, at least for the hard parts. The club could watch my back, but no one could teach me how to be a father. Not Skeeter Crawley, not anyone.
With a deep breath, I pushed to my feet; the chair scraping against the floor as I did. “Stay on top of things. I’ll be back.”
Juju raised an eyebrow, his grin never faltering. “Facing the beast already?”
“Something like that,” I muttered, making my way toward the stairs. The Bourbon Bar hummed behind me, a sanctuary I’d built with my own hands. But tonight, it felt like just another stage in a play where I didn’t quite know my lines.
Each step upward echoed with the weight of decisions yet to be made, and I paused before the door, the muffled sounds of the city seeping in through the walls. Whatever awaited me in that room, I knew it would change me. Forever.
Chapter Eleven
“He left me stranded in Alabama, Henley!” I shouted, trying to ignore my sister’s laughter. “On the side of the road in the middle of nowhere! I had to walk for miles to the nearest town, and it wasn’t even a town. It had one gas station. That was it!”
“Oh, come on, Dev. You made it there safe and sound. How bad could it be?”
“I had to ride in the back of a truck with chickens, Henley. Chickens!”
Henley wiped a tear from her eye, still laughing at my misery. “It sounds like the kind of story you can tell your kids someday. You know, like a cute bedtime story, ‘how I survived your father’.”
“Not funny,” I grumbled. “I think I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”
“No.” Henley quickly sobered. “You are not doing this, Devlyn. You followed your heart, and whether you want to believe it or not, your heart is in Louisiana with Gator. So what if the road was a little rocky at first? It’s supposed to be. You needto keep your eyes on the finish line, ’cause that’s all that matters, and the babies, of course. Have you and Gator talked about them yet?”
“No.”
