Page 59 of Angel
“Alright, you two,” I murmur. “We’re ready when you are.”
Another strong kick answers.
Angel laughs. “Guess they heard you.”
I smile, resting into him as the last light fades from the sky. For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I’m chasing happiness. I’m standing in it. And it’s enough.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Angel
The clubhouse is loud in that good way, the end-of-day kind of noise. Cards slap the table in the corner like someone’s trying to win a war with poker chips. Someone’s arguing about engine timing by the bar, voices rising and falling like it’s life or death. The music hums low through the speakers, bass vibrating in the walls. The air smells like beer, sweat, leather, and grilled meat.
Home.I’m leaning against the counter, half listening to Wrench talk about a stubborn bolt on a Harley build, half watching the door like my body knows something my brain hasn’t caught up to yet. It’s not paranoia. It’s instinct.
It’s the same thing that makes me check mirrors on a run, clock the way someone walks into a room, note the way a brother’s shoulders sit when something’s off. And something’s off.Not bad. Not danger. Just… a shift in the air.
My phone’s in my pocket, but I can feel it like a heartbeat. I’ve checked it twice already without a reason, thumb hovering over Stevie’s name like touching it might bring luck. She went for a laydown, she was tired. Said her back was killing her. Said the babies were using her ribs as a damn jungle gym. She’d kissed me on the mouth and told me to stop looking at her like she might disappear.
And I’d promised I would. I’m trying. But promises don’t do shit against fear you’ve lived through. Wrench is still talking, hands moving like he’s shaping the story in the air. “I’m tellin’ you, man, if he would’ve just listened the first time instead of...”
The doors slam open. Tank bursts in at a dead run. Which would be impressive, if he didn’t immediately catch his boot on a stray chair leg and go airborne. Full extension. Arms windmilling. A sound like a bowling ball hitting a beer-soaked floor.
He crashes hard enough to rattle the walls. For half a second, the entire clubhouse goes dead silent. Even the music seems to hesitate. Joker blinks slowly from the table, like he’s trying to decide if he’s pissed or amused. Wire freezes mid-sip of his drink. Wrench stops mid-word. Tank groans from the floor.
“I’m fine,” he says, voice muffled because his face is still pressed into the wood.
Joker exhales. “Jesus Christ.”
Someone snorts. Someone else laughs, then tries to turn it into a cough when Joker shoots them a look.
“You good?” I call, already pushing off the counter.
Tank rolls onto his back like a flipped turtle, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah.”
“You always enter a room like a fuckin’ grenade?” Sarg mutters.
Tank lifts a hand. “It was tactical.”
Wrench deadpans. “It was gravity.”
Joker rubs his forehead. “That man is a liability.”
Then Pandora appears in the doorway behind Tank. Hands on her hips. Eyes sharp. Expression like she’s about to execute someone but might kiss them first. She looks down at Tank like he’s a disobedient puppy.
“You are idiot,” she says fondly. “A large, loud idiot.”
Tank grins from the floor. “Missed you too, baby.”
Pandora doesn’t even bend. She just hooks her fingers into the back of his vest and hauls him upright like he weighs nothing. Tank stumbles, startled more by the ease of it than the impact. I’m watching the scene, half amused, half ready to tell Tank to quit running indoors like a toddler and then Stevie walks in behind them.
My amusement dies instantly. She’s pale. Not sick pale, focused pale. The kind of pale that comes from pain being handled with discipline. One hand braced on the doorframe. The other cradling her stomach like she’s holding the world together by sheer will. Her hair is pulled back, messy, and she’s got that look in her eyes that tells me she’s had to talk herself down from panic already. She takes one step inside and stops, eyes flicking to Tank, still dusting himself off.
“Oh,” she says dryly. “Perfect. Dramatic entrance ruined.”
My heart drops into my boots. I’m across the room in two strides.
“Baby.”
