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  “I know, man. I ain’t.”

  “Good.”

  Fuck, this was weird.

  “And even if these people hate you, they’re still in your life. All they’re going to see is whether or not you give a damn about their daughter. Everything else will sink in later but the first thing they want to know is you give a shit. And you’ve got that part down so don’t worry about it.”

  Fritter had reached his peak of tolerance with Tiny’s heart to heart, and after a wide-eyed exchange with Buck he knew he wasn’t the only one. Mercifully, Tiny changed the subject.

  “Talked to Spaz earlier, too. He’s on Jolene detail this week. She decided it was grocery shopping day. Trouble was she woke up still totally tanked from the night before.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. They ran into Sharon there.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, she was on about wanting to make something to take to Ma’s for dinner.” He actually smacked his own forehead. “Shit, I gotta call Ma.”

  “Well, Jolene made a scene. Spaz said Sharon was pretty upset, but he was mostly focused on getting Jolene out of there.”

  “Made a scene?” What the hell? “How’d she upset Sharon?”

  “Starting shouting about Sharon being able to have a kid, even though she was old. I’m telling you, there’s grief and then there’s whatever the fuck Jolene has going on. I don’t get women, never have, but I’d say she’s resenting how fast life just keeps on keeping on. She’s still lost without Mickey and the other women have their own shit going on. Babies on the way or already here. Maybe she expected life to stop but ...” Tiny ran his hand through his hair roughly. “I don’t know. Like I said ... women make fuck all sense.”

  “Damn.” Fritter chewed all that over. “Poor Jolene.”

  “Yeah, well, the scene she made was loud enough that I’m sure by now the town knows about the Sheriff’s little on-board deputy.”

  “Oh fuck me,” he muttered, scrubbing his face with both hands then patting his pockets. “Fuck, now I really gotta call Ma. Shit, where’s my phone?”

  “You forgot it, you idiot.” Tiny reached into the front pocket of his flannel shirt and handed over his burner. “Use mine.” Then he got to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  With a grateful smile, Fritter punched in his mother’s number, knowing the bomb had already dropped. He’d wanted to break it to her gently, in her kitchen, good food in everyone’s stomach, sitting around the table with sweet tea, Sharon already comfortable in his Ma’s presence. But that wasn’t an option anymore.

  With a grimace he entered the last digit then waited for her to answer.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  With a muffled shout Sharon came awake, sitting up in her bed and blinking against the harsh lights. This wasn’t her room, and as pain bloomed all over her body from the sudden movement she winced and eased herself back to the hospital mattress.

  She had no idea how she’d fallen asleep; every part of her ached to the core of every muscle, through the length of every tendon. Thank Christ her jaw was wrapped like Fred Flintstone with a toothache. Wrenching that back out of place would hurt like a bitch.

  Flashes came back, a pain-soaked montage of waking because of anguish as big arms wrapped around her and picked her up off her living room floor. She’d immediately collapsed into tears, mind going back to the fact that the bastards had shot her dog. Then the smell of smoke, coughing which, for the record, hurt enough with bruised ribs but with a dislocated jaw it was enough to make a person nearly throw up. Next came fresh air on her face, sunshine, and as she’d blinked away the fog of unconsciousness she’d recognized Tiny Gray looming over her, cradling her and touching her here and there as though assessing damage.

  All she could do was cry about Earp.

  He’d only said one line in that whole time before the ambulance rushed her away. “Tough little bitch you are, Sheriff. You killed three Dirty Rats.”

  Her reply, “There were four of them.” She couldn’t talk clearly, it came out like mumbling but he nodded to show he understood.

  The hospital had been its own agony. She was pretty sure she’d passed out in the ambulance, clinging to Tiny like a simpering child. He let her do it, squeezing back when she’d tighten up from a jolt or movement that wrenched something.

  Then examinations from different emergency room doctors. One had said sharply and clearly over the din of medical equipment and instructions, “We’re going to check the baby, Sharon. We want to make sure the little sprout is okay.”

  So she didn’t have to tell them she was pregnant. That was handy.

  They must have given her something, because she’d relaxed and fallen asleep. And now here she was, room lights dim. The window had its blinds drawn but she could tell by the light then sun was nearly down or had just taken the dip under the horizon.

  Where the fuck was everyone?

  She turned her head to the side, watching the door. No movement. She turned back to the window, blinking rapidly. Shit, she was really hoping someone would be here—

  The door opened and she heard the voice before she saw her mother. “I’m just going to check. I don’t care what he says. I’m her mother—”

  Sharon’s lip trembling as her mother stopping in the entry, hand going to her mouth. Then the woman was perched on the edge of the bed, doing her best to hug her daughter without jostling her. Sharon let the tears come, pressing her face into her mother’s permed hair, scenting home and letting comfort wash through her. Age didn’t mean shit. Everyone needed their mom sometimes.

  “Honey, I’m so glad you’re okay.” Her mother eventually sat up, wiping her eyes. As she did Sharon spied her father lingering behind her mom, smiling and giving her a familiar wink.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

  She put an arm out and her father did the same odd, arm around the back of her neck hug her mother had delivered, adding a kiss on the top of the head. “You scared us, Sharon.”

  She nodded, wishing she could move her mouth. But the aching at the joint of her jawbones was getting intense just from trying not to cry.

  “And we’re glad that the ... baby is going to be okay.” Her mother said cautiously, putting a hand on Sharon’s stomach and keeping her eye contact warm.

  Sharon raised her eyebrows.

  Her father replied. “Yeah, honey. We heard. Mark told us when we got here.”

  “And we met him, finally, too.” Her mother raised an eyebrow. “He’s very bossy, Sharon. I hope he isn’t so domineering when—”

  “What are you doing bothering her?”

  They all turned and her mother got up from the bed, sighing in exasperation and crossing her arms while she stared Fritter down. “She woke up. I wanted to see her and she was already awake. I didn’t want her alone when she woke up.”

  “She needs rest,” Fritter snapped, moving forward.

  Sharon could only stare as he moved, giving her parents the stink eye like they’d been caught doing something wrong. Her mother huffed, her father hid a smile and placed a hand on her arms, leading her to the door. “We should give them a minute, honey,” he said softly, winking at Sharon again.

  Was Fritter Horton giving her parents shit?

  With a gentle sigh her hand was captured in both of his, and the door clicked closed behind her parents as he pressed her hand to his lips. He sank into a chair that was next to the bed, angled to face her. “Fuck baby, fuck.”

  She frowned, watching him close his eyes and pull himself together. Apparently that composure was just for telling off her parents.

  “Thought I was going to lose you and the baby. I have never been so scared.”

  She ran the fingers of her other hand through his hair, wincing at the pull in her ribs but not caring. His blue eyes came to hers and she tried to smile.

  “Baby should be fine,” he went on, letting her pet him. “It’s still really small. They watched the heart rate or blood pressure or s
omethin.’ But everything’s okay. You got bruised ribs, baby. You know about your jaw, I’m sure.” His grip tightened on her and she let her hand drop to her stomach. “I’m gonna find him and kill him. But I gotta know, baby. Did he ... did he do anythin’ other than beat you?”

  Her understanding brought tears to her eyes again. She shook her head but the tears were coming fast and furious, and she remembered the terror of two men attacking her right before Earp decided to strike. The knowledge that she couldn’t be strong enough to stop them, not two men. No amount of struggling or fighting would change that.

  Fritter got up, slid himself into her bed next to her, resting his weight on this side and gathered her carefully to his chest. She let her face rest on his T-shirt, relief coursing through her, chasing away the flashback of panic and terror.

  “I’ll find him, baby. Nothin’ hurts you ever again, I swear to Christ.”

  She nodded, closing her eyes and relaxing in his hold. His hand ran up and down her arm, and under her cheek his heartbeat was even and strong.

  “We need to think ... we should think about where we’re gonna live, too.”

  She stiffened, then pulled her head back to look at him. He was smiling now, brushing his hand over the side of her neck to her shoulder.

  “Don’t look so terrified. But they lit your house on fire, baby. The bedroom is torched. There’s smoke damage in the back. A few windows got broken out. And I hate to point out the obvious but it’s just a two-bedroom. That’s great for the baby but when Brayden comes to visit he’s not gonna be thrilled to sleep on the sofa. Or in a tent in the backyard.”

  She nearly smiled, but stopped because it hurt.

  Fritter cupped her cheek in one hand. “I think you get that you mean a lot to me, Sharon. It doesn’t seem like we’ve been together long, but really ... it’s been nearly two years when you think about it. And I’m happy about this kid, I really am.” He took a deep breath, his hand stroking her head, even over whatever kind of bandage they had her trussed up in. “So, I’m sayin’ we should think about us all livin’ together. You. Me. Baby. And a room for Brayden.”

  Sharon could only stare.

  “It’ll sound morbid, but there’s a bunch of houses coming on the market lately at a steal of a deal because of some kind of pesky shootin’ rampage that happened a month back.” His smile was a bit disturbing. “From what I’m told, a few of those places are pretty nice.”

  She shook in laughter, despite the grim subject matter.

  “What do you say? Wanna try livin’ with me?”

  She was nodding before she really thought it through.

  He grinned outright. “I kinda like this not talkin’ thing. You being agreeable or you just too hurt to argue?”

  She made a grunt of outrage and poked his stomach, making him tense. Hm. She’d always liked the feel of that stomach, especially taught.

  “I want to be in your life. And in our kid’s. That means keepin’ you closer to me, protectin’ you. I know you’re tough. Shit, Sharon. You capped three men on your own. But with our baby in you ...” He took a breath. “You gotta step back and let me swing my ass out there to keep you safe. You keep bakin’ the bun. I’ll take care of everythin’ out here. Okay?”

  She searched his face, surprised by the resolve she saw. This was not the fun loving goofball she knew. This was Mark Horton with something to care about. It was comforting and damn attractive. So she nodded, and he tightened his grip on her just to kiss her temple, then released her again.

  “You okay with me lookin’ for a house for us?”

  She nodded again and his grin became downright triumphant.

  “Good. Because I already got one I want to put an offer on. Just want you to see it first.”

  Her eyes got wide and he laughed, fun loving Fritter once again in the room.

  “It’s a nice one. They cleaned it properly, put down a new floor throughout the whole main level. It’s a four level split, and I really like it. But I want you to see it. When you’re cleared to leave and you’ve had a few days’ rest. Okay?”

  All her life she’d been on her own, taking care of her own shit. It might have been lonely at times, but she’d never felt alone when she was on the job. Now that the job was slipping away, her body was housing a new life, and her heart was apparently deciding that it really liked Fritter’s protective streak—and new, no-nonsense bossy side—she had no idea what to expect anymore.

  Routine, out the window. Come what may; that was the new plan.

  She gave a valiant effort at another smile and nestled back into Fritter’s hold. She fell asleep that way, his hand warm on her back, cheek resting on the top of her head.

  -oOo-

  Life could be a whirlwind. Sharon had been getting used to that professionally. What with DEA and FBI agents taking over her town, human trafficking rings springing up in Markham and highway shootings to contend with, her own life might have seemed dull and unimpressive.

  But it wasn’t, not in the least. As soon as she’d been released from the hospital she’d walked into a surprise “Get Well Soon” soiree at the clubhouse that had really rocked her to the core. Her parents were even there, which was a lot like seeing Martha Stewart and Mister Rogers strolling through Sturgis hand-in-hand. As an added bonus, her brother Scott was on leave. As soon as she saw him she dropped Fritter’s hand and ran to him. He swung her up immediately into a hug, making her ribs twinge in protest but she didn’t care. She hadn’t seen him in years, and just that alone was healing medicine.

  With news of the baby, the club seemed a lot less wary of the Sheriff in their midst. A huge barrel drum grill was smoking away in the lot and Tank was grilling the steaks. Rose hovered close, keeping him stocked with beer, kisses, and ass groping. Sharon couldn’t get over how cute the Amazonian woman was. Her baby belly had finally “popped,” and she looked like she had half a basketball tucked under her top. Not a lick of fat on her anywhere else. It was hard not to hate her, just a little bit. From the way Tank kept rubbing his hand on his old lady’s stomach it was obvious there were no body issues on either side.

  Brayden was there, too. Steven and Jasmine had stayed at the hotel they’d booked when they got that call Sharon had been hurt. When she found out they’d driven out, even with Steven still in a full leg cast, she was touched. They all planned to head home the next day, but this wasn’t their scene. She appreciated them letting her son out for the evening.

  Strangely, she thought of Adeel. How odd that family could spring up in so many different forms, and Adeel’s blood wouldn’t want him. With all this love, how could there not be enough in the world for one little boy?

  From her seat on an ancient, battered sofa Sharon took in her brother, father and Knuckles involved in a very spirited conversation. It could have been about the military or bikes; either made sense. Sharon’s mother had locked right onto Gertie, who was on the sofa opposite with Dave Junior resting in her arms. Her mother’s face was adoring as it watched the little one sleep. Buck sat next to his old lady but was turned to Jayce, and they were debating the finer points of charcoal briquettes versus natural gas or propane grills. Fritter, Brayden, Spaz and Tiny were playing pool.

  It was a fucking weird world sometimes.

  “I know you can’t talk too much, but I thought you should know that we’re already reaching out to the Rats to figure out what the fuck they wanted with you.”

  Sharon was startled, and turned to see that Buck and Jayce’s conversation had apparently ended. Now she had Jayce’s full attention and vice versa. “Okay,” she said stiffly. Talking was still difficult but at least the bandages had come off.

  “We have reason to believe they may have taken an issue with law enforcement. Assuming you were in bed in more ways than one with us.” Jayce’s smile was apologetic as she felt her cheeks color a bit. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  “I understand.”

  “Until we talk to them, we’re assuming they’re
out to get anyone and everyone affiliated with us. No one goes anywhere alone. We got a patched member on every old lady at all times, even when they’re at home. And during our meet, we’re sequestering everyone here. I got Nomads coming to town for the meet so we’ll be able to have a few people watching the place.”

  Sharon felt a chill. “And this is where you’ll want me to be, too.”

  Jayce nodded. “I need you here, actually. You’ll keep shit calm. I know you can do that. You’re smart. And having one more crack shot in the group makes me feel better about not being here.”

  She hoped her smile was more wry than a wince. “You’re buttering me up.”

  “Not at all. When Trinny was around she would have been the one I put in charge but ...” He wet his lips and looked around the room. “I think it’s pretty obvious that we got tough, brave women. You’re the kind that can lead, and not just broads. But you know what this means. You’re a cop. And if shit goes bad here, I’m trusting you to handle it in a way that is in our interest as opposed to your sworn duty to protect.”

  “Meaning...?”

  “Killing a prick because he’s wearing a Dirty Rats kutte, not because he drew on you.” Jayce’s eyes were serious. “If a Rat walks in here he has to be taken out. They are not our allies. They beat and rape women. They killed Mickey, Sharon. They are not allowed to be here.”

  She blinked, taking a deep breath. The mention of Mickey did it. As surreal as the conversation was, she got it. She knew that this life had no room for half-measures or the fantasies of people wanting to live a life they saw on TV.

  This was what it meant to be with Fritter.

  She re-examined the room. She knew Rose was a scrapper when she had to be. She’d seen the men who’d tried to kill Tank while he was unconscious in the hospital. Jolene, who was no doubt hurting but Sharon couldn’t imagine her being less of the woman she was. She had spirit and passion and Sharon knew she’d fight to the death for the people she loved. Gertie has escaped a biker compound, with help but that meant nothing, and she’d gone to the wall to help Trinny. And Trinny herself, who wasn’t there but Sharon had nothing but respect for her. But all this wasn’t the strength of these women. With the exception of Jayce’s old lady, they took risks with the belief their men were there and wouldn’t let anything happen to them.