Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Go ahead and give me a big push,” the midwife said. “Her head is just starting to crown. We’re getting closer, Sadie girl. You’re doing a great job.”
“Mom, come hold my other hand,” Sadie said, and if she saw me, she didn’t give any sign.
I’d been a member of the Reapers MC for a long time, and over the years I’d seen a lot of shit. Brave men, strong men. Men who gave everything for the club. I can tell you with all honesty, though, that I never met any man stronger than Sadie Baxter was that day. I mean, I knew giving birth was hard. But knowing it and seeing it for yourself, well, that’s a different thing entirely. I lost track of time as Sadie pushed, shoving our baby into the world inch by inch. Sweat ran down her face, but she clutched hands with her mom and Tinker and she pushed.
It wasn’t fast and it wasn’t easy, but half an hour later our baby girl finally slid out into the midwife’s hands.
She came into the world pissed off, which seemed only fair, given how she’d been conceived. We’d never know who fathered her, and I couldn’t have cared less. When the midwife lifted that bright red, angry, smelly little miracle up and she screamed at all of us, I knew she’d be a survivor, just like Sadie.
“Do you want to hold her?” the midwife asked Sadie. She nodded, and I saw Tinker flinch. Yes, we’d signed all the papers. Sadie hadn’t wavered in her determination to give up her baby through the entire pregnancy, but we’d gone into this knowing it could happen.
“Yes,” Sadie whispered, glancing at Tinker. “Just once. I want to hold her once. Then I’ll give her to her mother, okay?”
The midwife nodded, her face full of compassion as she pulled Sadie’s gown open, laying the infant on her chest. Sadie’s arms circled her, and she leaned down, nuzzled the small, damp head covered in a shock of black hair. Tinker stepped back, and I came to stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist.
“Would you like us to clear the room?” the midwife asked, and we all held our breath.
Then Sadie shook her head.
“No,” she said, looking up at Tinker. “You know I’ll always love her. But she’s your baby, not mine. I’m not ready . . . No. Just take her now. Before I change my mind.”
Tinker moved forward, hesitantly lifting the child into her arms. Leaning over, I took in the tiny nose and small, angry eyes. What a little fireball. I reached down, touching her soft cheek. She smacked at me with one little hand, but when my finger touched her lips she opened them, sucking it in hard.
“She’s strong,” Tinker whispered.
“Yeah, she is.”
“I’d like you to leave now,” Sadie said, and I looked over to find her lying back on the bed, head turned away from us. “I don’t think I can watch.”
“Of course,” a nurse said, and she led Tinker out of the room. I followed, touching Janelle’s shoulder as I passed. She caught my hand, giving it a squeeze.
“I’ll take good care of her,” she said. “And you take good care of my grandbaby.”
“That’s a promise,” I said. Then I walked across the hallway to the other room, wondering how the hell a man as bad as me could’ve gotten so damned lucky.
Tinker looked up as I walked in, a smile wreathing her face.
“I think we should name her Joy,” she said. “Because that’s how I feel right now.”
Joy.
I liked the sound of it.
Liked the sound of it a lot.
TWENTY-TWO YEARS LATER
TINKER
“Are you ready for this?” Gage asked, looking me over as I walked into living room. “You look gorgeous.”
I swirled, showing off the dark blue gown I’d chosen. Thankfully, our girl had let me pick my own dress, one that flattered me, which wasn’t a surprise. All she’d wanted was a simple wedding surrounded by the people she loved. We’d decorated the courtyard gazebo my father had built, and while I’d lost him nearly ten years ago, whenever I saw it, I felt his presence.
When Joy told us she wanted to get married under it, I swear, I heard him laughing all the way from heaven.
Outside, the guests were already sitting in neat rows of folding chairs, and we’d hired a string quartet to play during the ceremony. I’d considered catering it myself, but Carrie convinced me to hire it out instead. She told me I should be worrying about Joy that day, not food, and as usual she was right.
Now Joy was upstairs, putting the final touches on her makeup. Gage would walk her out through the front door of the house, across the lawn and then up to the gazebo through the narrow aisle we’d created with the chairs. There he’d be giving her away to Enrique Saldivar—quite possibly the bravest young man who’d ever lived, because even when Gage and his Reaper brothers growled at him, he still kept coming around.