Page 155 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
I pause there for a minute, aware that this is yet another test.
We both pause at the buzzing of our phones and Cat frowns, grabbing his off the desk. I pull mine from my pocket and we both stare at the message on our screens. I’m just assuming that he has the same one.
Lane County Emergency System - this is an automated message. Your area has been upgraded to a Level 2 - Be Set - Alert. There is significant fire danger in your location. Voluntary evacuation is recommended; gather items at your own risk. If you choose to remain, be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.
Oh shit.
I look back up at Cat.
“Let me get Reba out of here,” I say, squeezing the phone in my hand. “And I’ll find out where Grey’s going to be tomorrow.”
Cat studies me carefully.
“If you fuck this up, girl, that’s it for you. You understand that, right?”
I nod.
“Good.” Cat stands up from his desk, pausing beside me. He gives me a pat on the shoulder, much like Sin did but with considerably less affection. It’s more than I’ve gotten from him in a long, long time though. Since I was a small child, actually. “Nice work last night. You sure are a ruthless bitch. Can’t wait to see the nightmare of a grandchild that you pop out.”
Ruthless.
Grandchild.
I’m pleased on multiple levels—even if I feel guilty for having that reaction.
My father moves away from me, and I turn to look after him as he opens the office door and disappears down the hall. Crown peeks in at me, but then follows after his president. Sin, too. Beast is the last to go, but he offers me up a slight nod before leaving. Then it’s just me and Cade motherfucking Grainger.
“Take me back to the house,” I tell him, and I try not to let the overwhelming surge of emotion in my gaze show through. Somehow, Cade sees it anyway, moving into the room to put his hands on either one of my shoulders. He’s … surprisingly cuddly in bed. I know it sounds weird, but he curls me up tight against him and uses me like a body pillow.
I don’t think that he’d ever cop to it during daylight hours though.
“Don’t stress, Gidge,” he says, but even his face is creased with worry. Between the fire and the mafia and our very own refugee families, it’s a lot. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”
I quirk a brow at him, trying to lighten the mood a little.
“I know that. It isn’t me that I’m worried about.” I reach up and give his chest a rub with my hand, his dark eyes following the movement before he looks up at me. His perfect mouth is turned down in a frown, and his stubble is thicker than usual. He just hasn’t had the time to shave. I end up reaching toward it and trailing my fingers over the rough hair.
“You should only be worried about yourself,” he says, and then he snaps his fingers at me. “And our baby.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m glad he’s invested in this. There’s no point in us having a kid if he isn’t. It has to be a commitment; we have to actually care.
“I’ll be fine—but only so long as you don’t get yourself killed during this.”
Grainger takes my hands in his and yanks me into him, leaning down and pressing one of his savage kisses to my mouth. He tastes … uncivilized. Wild. Raw. We flick our hot tongues together, deepening the kiss until he’s fisting his hand in the back of my jacket and pressing me so tightly to him that I can feel his hardness grinding into me through his jeans.
“Fuck. We don’t have time for this.” He pulls away from me and swipes a hand over his mouth, yanking his phone from his pocket to check the time. “Come on. Let’s go get your religious friend.”
“Don’t call her my religious friend,” I respond automatically, and he snorts.
“Whatever you say, baby mama.” He takes off down the hall as I huff. I hope it isn’t your kid, just to teach you a lesson, you dickhead.
I follow after him, grabbing the Escalade from its spot in the main parking area. Grainger lets me drive it—apparently my ovaries allow me to drive an SUV even though club culture believes they burst like bombs if allowed near a bike—and we return to the farmhouse.
Reba is waiting.
She has a single bag, packed with clothes.
“That was quick,” I say, almost breathless, and she nods, reaching down to stroke one of Fem’s triangular ears.
“I’m ready,” she tells me, exhaling deeply as she looks past me at Cade. “You’ll take good care of her for me, won’t you? I know you and I never did get along right, but I’m trusting you with my oldest and dearest friend. Do not …” Reba swallows, chokes a little. “Fuck this up.”
