Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
He took Dyna from her arms. Though, he could tell she was reluctant to let go. “Jem...”
“Do it, Cage,” she barked, brushing him off to concentrate on the injured.
Cage.
What. The. Fuck.
Everyone who was left in that kitchen froze at her tone and most of them knew she never called him by his road name.
He would give her this. This once. He figured she’d been freaking out the whole time they were gone, on top of dealing with her own head injury.
He wouldn’t doubt this whole thing stirred up bad memories, too.
So, yeah, he’d give her this.
For now.
But she wasn’t the only one reeling after what happened. With how close they came to losing Dyna. With how close they came to losing some of his fellow brothers.
Shit could’ve really went sideways. They were lucky they walked away with only a couple minor injuries.
But this wasn’t over yet.
Not even close.
However, this was not the time for that discussion.
Now was the time for Jemma to do her thing and help the club out. While he needed to go take care of his daughter.
Priorities.
Then the club would deal with the remaining Shirleys.
Then Cage would deal with Jemma.
Because he knew it was coming.
She hated the MC life.
What happened today probably just cemented it.
However, he couldn’t do anything about it but deal with the fallout.
With one last look at her shouting orders and dealing like a pro with Ozzy and Dodge, he held his baby girl tightly to his chest and headed out of the farmhouse back to the trailer.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jemma fidgeted in her seat and an unexpected shiver shot through her.
Whether it was from the A/C making the office an ice box, or her memory of last night, she didn’t know.
After she had finished removing the shard of wood from Ozzy’s leg, cleaned and bandaged his injury, she had moved onto Dodge, cleaning the wound where a bullet grazed his bicep.
He’d have a scar, but he thought that was cool. A war wound, he called it.
Right.
Jemma didn’t think it was so cool.
Some of them could’ve died up on that mountain. They were lucky only two had somewhat minor injuries.
Dyna could’ve been badly hurt or even killed. Luckily, she wasn’t.
But what happened on that mountain weren’t the only injuries.
Her scalp had stitches at the back. Jemma hoped her hair covered them enough to make them unnoticeable. She hoped the makeup she’d applied over the half-moons of worry under her eyes covered them enough, too. She didn’t want to discuss her injury or exhaustion with a prospective employer. If asked, she’d have to lie.
She thought about cancelling today’s interview. Then, after a sleepless night, decided she would go no matter what. She needed this job. She needed to get the hell away from the MC.
This job might be her quickest way out.
It would also be the perfect excuse for her to walk away. To get free once more.
From a life she knew could be disastrous. Even heartbreaking.
Like yesterday when she was jumped and Dyna was stolen from her.
Yesterday was a reminder of how dangerous the MC life could be.
Dyna had been lucky. Cage had been lucky. Dodge and Ozzy were lucky they’d heal up without any issues. The whole club was lucky there weren’t more casualties.
Jemma was damn lucky she had this interview.
As she sat in front of the director’s desk of the hospice organization, she chewed on a fingernail and her knee bounced uncontrollably.
It wasn’t the interview that worried her.
It was Dyna growing up in an MC.
When she finally headed back to the trailer last night, she had been ready to collapse. The day had been long and exhausting, and her adrenaline was finally crashing. Her head throbbed and all she wanted to do was soak in a hot bath.
The problem was, the trailer didn’t have a bathtub. She settled for a quick shower, pulled on one of Cage’s T-shirts, and after eating a plate of lukewarm leftovers and checking on Cage and Dyna in his bedroom, she crawled into her bed.
It wasn’t long before her door opened, Cage came in smelling like he had just smoked a bowl and, without a word, carried her to his bed.
She should’ve resisted. But didn’t.
She wanted to be close to Dyna. And, if she admitted it, Cage, too.
He laid Dyna next to Jemma in the center of the mattress and settled in on the other side, sandwiching the baby between them.
They laid there quietly.
She was pretty sure they were both reflecting on everything that happened.
In the dark, Dyna’s loud breathing filled the silence as she slept. In the end neither Cage nor Jemma got much sleep. Each kept a hand on Dyna, making sure she was still there.
Between them.
She drifted off eventually because when she awoke, Cage and Dyna were already up. He was in the kitchen feeding his daughter.