I grabbed a bandana out of my jacket and wiped my face before wrapping my hand in the cloth. I put on my helmet, ready to ride.
I winced as I mounted my bike. The fresh stab wound smarted. Fuck if it didn’t make my dick hard. She held her own around the guys, but she reserved the softness, the sweetness for me.
Tonight, I got to see how both of those merged into the beautiful woman she had become. Being inside of her again, stab wound or no stab wound, felt like home.
The secret she held on to all this time.
I couldn’t believe what Grace had told me. My father was a hard ass, but no deal was more important to him then his own family or the club for that matter.
It was always family first for him. I almost understood his anger toward Grace. She took his legacy away from him. The potential of a new Scott would never have the opportunity to be anything else other than a member of the Dragons.
She could have told me her plans. I would have done anything for her to feel safe. She chose to keep quiet.
Now I had a son. He was alive and he was mine.
As I drove back to DC, I pictured what he looked like. I didn’t get a chance to see him, but I heard him. He was smart. Beyond a four year old's mentality with how he spoke to his mother. She raised him to be strong and independent. I wouldn’t have expected anything less from Grace.
Grace was exactly how I remembered and a whole lot more than I expected.
She had a pride and confidence in herself. And, Grace was smart. What she’d told me might have some truth in it.
I had to find out.
