THE MC’S TRUST

  BIKERS AND BABIES

  BOOK 5

  A.F. MONTOYA

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  CHAPTER ONE

  ZERO

  “Head’s up,” Brewer murmured, nudging my shoulder. “Pretty sure I just heard Rooster talking about the breaker box. He’s planning something.”

  Whipping my head around, I took in Rooster’s grin as he tiptoed toward the back of the clubhouse, where the breaker box was. I was going to kill him if he touched it again. Last time the clubhouse was without power for over twenty-four hours, because I needed parts I didn’t have.

  “Rooster, I swear to god, if you mess with the wiring for one of your stupid pranks, I’m not fixing it this time!” I bellowed.

  He froze midstep, turning to look at me with a wide-eyed innocent expression we all knew was complete bullshit. “I’m not pulling a prank.”

  I pointed a finger at him, giving him a glare that would make any normal man think twice about messing with me. Because this was Rooster I was dealing with, he only grinned sheepishly.

  “Don’t touch the breaker.”

  The grin dropped and he pouted like a little kid. “But I need to turn it off! I can’t change the fixtures if it's on, and the haunted house will look stupid with normal lighting!”

  My brows snapped together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  It wasn’t only me that was confused on this tangent he’d gone on. Then again, most of us were smart enough not to get sucked into Rooster’s bullshit. Only a select few went along with his ideas.

  Circus came jogging down the banister, a frown on his face as he asked, “Dude, what’s taking so long?”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course Circus was involved. No doubt, Nova or Buzz was somewhere upstairs too, waiting for whatever they’d had planned to happen so they could pull this stupid ass stunt.

  “Did either of you get approval from Prez or any of the other officers for whatever dumbass idea you’ve been planning?” Brewer asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

  They exchanged looks, the answer clear before they even spoke.

  “Well, no, but–”

  “We were going to–”

  They talked over each other, trying to explain their reasoning for keeping our club president and the officers out of a plan that included messing with the fixtures in the house. I felt a headache already brewing and pinched the bridge of my nose to ease it a little.

  A knock on the door broke through their babbling explanations. I didn’t miss the fact that neither of them were actually saying anything coherent. They were hoping to talk in circles long enough for us to dismiss them. Normally, I would, because I wasn’t getting caught up in Rooster’s shit. But as the club electrician, anything having to do with the wiring was my business.

  Making an irritated noise, Killer, who had been playing pool with Axel, stomped over to answer the door since neither of the idiots closest to it were paying any attention. He yanked it open, glaring over his shoulder at Rooster and Circus, then came up short when he turned around again.

  “Uh… What can we do for you?”

  A soft female voice replied, “I’m looking for Elias Fletcher.”

  It’d been so long since I heard my legal name that I nearly didn’t recognize it. Even my business cards had the name ‘Zero’ on it. It wasn’t until Brewer looked at me with a frown that it clicked. I frowned back, heading for the front door as I tried to think back to the last few hookups I’d had. I seriously hoped this wasn’t another Vegas or Butch situation. I was careful with my hookups. Always used protection. I did not want any surprise kids showing up on my doorstep.

  The woman who stood outside wasn’t familiar to me, which was a relief, but it did beg to question who the hell she was. “Yeah?”

  Her smile was polite, and she offered her credentials as she said, “My name is Rachel Clark. I’m a social worker with Child Protective Services.”

  Rooster, who’d finally stopped talking to come see what was happening, leaned over my shoulder to look at the woman. “You got kids we didn’t know about, Zero?”

  “No,” I croaked, then shot her an incredulous look. “Right?”

  Her smile was patient as she shook her head. “Not exactly. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  I just stared at her blankly. What the hell would a social worker want with me? Unless this had something to do with the kids visiting the house. Was she hoping to interview me about that? I wouldn’t have much to give her. I saw the kids during group events, but I wasn’t as present as Rooster or some of the other guys were. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with kids. I spent more time at Axel’s bar than I did at the clubhouse most days.

  Axel stepped in, nudging me out of the way and taking the woman’s credentials out of my hand to give back to her. “Come on in. We’ll set you up somewhere quiet. Do you mind waiting just a minute? Prez will want to be present for this.”

  We all waited for her to protest, most official people didn’t like our club dynamics and would kick up a fuss, but she nodded slowly, her expression considering. “If that makes you more comfortable, sure.”

  “Thanks,” Axel agreed, gesturing her through the clubhouse filled with bikers and toward the back. “Brewer here will escort you while Zero– Ah, I mean Elias, calls Prez.”

  I was still contemplating what the hell was going on when Axel smacked the back of my head. “Snap out of it and call Prez,” he demanded. “You aren’t talking to a social worker without legal representation present.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to tell him?” I hissed. “I don’t have kids! I don’t know why the hell she’s here!”

  “Which is why he needs to be here. Call. Him,” he growled.

  “I’ll call him,” Rooster offered. “Give the man a minute to think.”

  Thankfully, Prez wasn’t far. He’d moved out when he got with his old lady. They’d tried to make it work living in the clubhouse because he didn't think he could trust the crew to behave if he wasn’t there to watch over us, but even I knew the clubhouse wasn’t a place to raise a kid. His daughter deserved better. He moved to a safe neighborhood nearby, and was at the clubhouse in less than ten minutes when Rooster told him the social worker was here to speak to me and no one could figure out why.

  He strode into the clubhouse in jeans and a t-shirt, not his normal business attire since it was a weekend, his vest with his president patch clear on the front of it. He gave me a long look, probably taking in my panic and confusion, and jerked his chin in the direction the social worker had been taken.

  “Let’s go.”

  I followed him, feeling like my heart was in my throat. I still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t here to tell me I had a kid somewhere out there I didn’t know about. I wasn’t sure what the hell I’d do with that if it were true. I wasn’t a kid person. Hell, I still lived at the clubhouse even in my mid thirties. It was convenient when I was too wasted to drive.

  The social worker had been set up in church. She’d been given a bottle of water and looked a little more nervous when she turned to face Wyatt, her polite smile looking forced instead of natural like it had been before.

  “Mr. Lawson.”

  “Mrs. Packman,” Prez replied tersely.

  “Clark,” she corrected. “I’m divorced.”

  Something like approval flashed across Prez’s face before he urged me forward, both of us sitting at the large round table facing the social worker.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just catching up to speed. Can you tell me why you’re here?” Prez asked.

  I held my breath, waiting for the worst, but her reply didn’t make any sense.

  “I’m here regarding Jasper and Isla Reed.”

  The names didn’t ring a bell, so I waited for her to continue.

  “They’re your cousin Hannah Fletcher’s children. Their mothers were recently in a tragic accident, leaving both children orphans in need of a home. We’ve spoken to members of your family, as blood relations are our first choice when it comes to placing children, but thus far have been unable to find someone to take them in.”

  Hannah… I had
a cousin named Hannah, but I hadn’t seen her since I was a teen. My parents kicked me out the minute I turned eighteen in hopes that homelessness would scare me straight and I’d come crawling home ready to act like they wanted me to. It never happened. I joined the club and Tank helped me get the funds to get my electrician’s license and I never looked back. None of my family ever reached out, and I wasn’t interested in catering to their conservative views, so I lost touch with cousins over the years.

  My brows snapped together. “Hold on. Did you say mothers? As in two?”

  The social worker nodded solemnly. “Yes, Hannah was married to Teresa Reed. The relationship caused her to be estranged from her family. Both women were young, they didn’t have a will in place, so we attempted to rehome the children with their immediate family. Terea’s family, unfortunately, passed when she was younger, and Hannah’s family–”

  “Wanted fuck all to do with a lesbian’s kids,” I answered, then winced when I realized I’d spoken out loud. “Sorry.”

  She pressed her lips into a thin line, but the annoyance on her face didn’t seem to be directed at me and my foul language. “Unfortunately, that’s the vibe we’ve gotten as well. We’ve tried everyone in the family eligible to take in two kids, but none have expressed any interest. You’re the last family member on our list.”

  My face twitched as I wrestled with my emotions. On the one hand, I felt for the kids. My family didn’t die, but they may as well have with the way they cut me out of their lives. Feeling like I was all alone in the world wasn’t pleasant. I got lucky that Tank noticed me hanging around and let me prospect way before I was of age to make sure I had a roof over my head.

  But…

  I wasn’t father material. I’d spent almost half my life at the clubhouse, living and working only for myself. As a small town electrician, I wasn’t rich by any means, and domesticity wasn’t my idea of a good time. I couldn’t be who those kids needed.

  Feeling like an asshole, I asked, “What happens if I say no?”

  Prez gripped my shoulder, squeezing supportively, and when I shot him a glance over my shoulder, his smile was understanding. Plenty of the guys in the club were turning out to be family men, but I wasn’t sure that was me. I usually only watched the kids if they were at the clubhouse and it wasn’t just me.

  Ms. Clark’s expression didn’t hold any judgement, but she didn't pull her punches either. “Unfortunately, our next step is putting them in the system. Given their age gap, they’ll likely be split up. The youngest, Isla, is nine months old. It’s likely she’ll find a family pretty quickly. Jasper…” She hesitated for a second, then sighed. “For kids his age, the likelihood of adoption is extremely low. He’ll go into a group home with other boys his age.”

  The message was clear. Without me, those kids wouldn’t see each other again. All because I was too selfish to set aside the bachelor life to give them a place to stay. I wasn’t that cruel, no matter how out of my depth I felt.

  “I’ll take them. What do I have to do?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  ZERO

  The list of shit I needed to get done before CPS would let me take in the kids was long, and I needed the whole crew to get it done. I had to move out of the clubhouse and into a rental with enough rooms for both kids to have their own space. The guys donated furniture they could spare, including a queen bed and dresser for the older one from Wraith’s spare room and a bunch of baby clothes and toys for the younger one. Vegas shelled out for a new crib, which I appreciated. Chains found a decent car at his junkyard he was willing to give to me, and Butch offered to fix it up free of charge. It was a decent SUV without terrible mileage that probably got too expensive for the previous owner to fix, but being friends with a mechanic had its perks.

  By the time the social worker was scheduled to visit with the kids in tow, most of the list had been crossed off. I still felt unprepared, but the club wasn’t unused to this kind of thing at this point and said they’d back me every step of the way. I thought I’d be the last person who needed that kind of help, but here we were.

  Since they didn’t want to overwhelm the kids, the crew left before the kids arrived. It was just me in the big house that still felt like someone else’s. I ended up pacing and rechecking things because the quiet was strange after a lifetime living in the clubhouse. If the clubhouse was quiet, it usually meant someone was up to something.

  A sleek black sedan pulled into the cracked driveway just as I was pacing past the big bay window in the front. Ice filled my gut and I had to take a breath before turning and heading for the door, opening it just as Ms. Clark led the kids toward the house. I took them in as they got closer. The younger one looked like any other baby I’d met. Big brown eyes, tight curly black hair, one hand clinging to her brother while she chewed on the other one. The older one looked a lot more like Hannah with his blue eyes and lighter brown hair. His hair was just as curly as his sister’s though, and they had the same skin tone. They were obviously siblings, and the older one held his baby sister protectively against his chest, already glaring at me even though we hadn’t said a word to each other yet.

  “Alright, introductions first, I think,” Ms. Clark said with false cheer in her voice, trying to make the situation a little easier on us all. “Kids, this is your mom’s cousin, Elias Fletcher. Elias, this is Jasper and Isla.”

  Was I supposed to offer a handshake? They were kids. How was I supposed to greet a kid? I never shook hands with any of the club kids, most of them would probably look at me like I had two heads if I tried.

  I decided to nod in greeting, since Jasper looked like he’d bite my hand if I tried to offer a shake. “Uh, nice to meet you,” I offered awkwardly.

  Jasper didn’t reply, just continued to glare. Ms. Clark gave him a second to say something, and when he refused, she moved on without drawing attention to it. She seemed to know it wasn’t a good idea to push. I decided to follow her lead, gesturing toward the house instead.

  “Pretty sure I got everything you said we needed. A few of the guys helped with babyproofing, too.”

  Her smile warmed and she took the lead heading toward the house. “I have to say, I’m still shocked that a group of bikers knows how to babyproof. I saw there was babyproofing at the clubhouse too. Do you have kid friendly parties there as well?”

  She didn’t sound like she was fishing, just curious, but I was careful with my reply. She was still a government worker and we’d had problems with them in the past. Hell, we still had problems with them now. Vegas’s old lady was doing her damndest to show the town we weren’t that bad, but with another crew causing trouble on the edges of town, there wasn’t a full turnaround just yet.

  “Sometimes. Barbecues, birthday parties, that kind of thing. Never on a school night or anything like that. But if they’re going to be there, the club wanted to make sure they were safe.”

  She waited for me to open the door before ushering the kids inside, a smile on her face. “That’s very responsible of you. And if the childproofing here is anything like what I saw at the clubhouse, I don’t think I’ll have anything to worry about.”

  While she did her walkthrough, I was left alone with the kids. It was painfully awkward, I didn’t know the first thing to say, and whenever I looked in his direction, Jasper’s scowl dialed up a few degrees. God, he couldn’t stand me already.

  “Uh… Are you hungry? I can make something,” I offered awkwardly.

  Jasper shook his head, silent as the grave. Something told me that wasn’t his natural state. His shoulders were tight and he looked like he was holding back all the shit he wanted to say to me. Melissa mentioned doing some family therapy so we could learn to communicate or whatever. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

  The baby, Isla, had been looking around and chewing on her hand for the most part, but she started fussing and wriggling in Jasper’s arms out of nowhere, ignoring him when he offered her a pacifier.

  “Do, uh, you want me to take her?”

  Again, Jasper shot me a death glare. Seriously, if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the floor right now.

  “I’ve got her,” he bit out sharply.

  I put my hands up in surrender before tucking them into my pockets. I sure as hell wasn’t going to argue with him. He was a big brother protecting his sister. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could get between that.