Shadow: Cerberus MC Book 3 (21 page)

I half listen to Bri when she begins concocting some wild-ass plan to get Shadow to not only like me, but to fall head over heels in love with me.

“Misty,” Em says from the door. “There’s someone here to see you.”

I gladly get up from the couch and make my way to Emmalyn.

I frown when I see a man standing in the doorway. Dressed in a dark, ill-fitting suit, he reminds me of one of the Jehovah’s Witnesses that would stop by the house on what seemed like a monthly basis.

“Misty Bowen?” He asks looking me up and down as if seeing me standing here confirms something he already knows. He also looks nervous, almost afraid to be standing on the front steps of a motorcycle club’s clubhouse.

“Yes,” I answer growing more nervous about this situation.

He holds out some folded paper. I take them from his hand because that’s what you do when someone offers you something.

“Misty Bowen, on behalf of the Civil Courts of Colorado, you have been served.” He turns and walks down the steps and gets into his car like there’s a fire lit under his ass.

I look up at Em, who just shrugs and looks down at the papers in my hands.

My hands tremble when I open the trifold packet. My worst nightmare is typed out in black and white on the papers in my hands. Rachel and Stewart Davis are suing me for custody of Griffin. I can hear nothing but the raging sound of my pulse in my ears. My fingers clutch at my chest as I have a hard time catching my breath. The papers flutter to the ground, and I collapse right after them.

I’m rocking back and forth, staring at the papers like they’re going to grow legs and attack me.

“Misty? Misty!” I hear someone say beside me. “Get Shadow!”

An eternity later I feel warm, strong arms wrap around me. “Shhh, Darlin’,” Shadow says softly in my ear. I usually feel safe when I’m cocooned in his arms, but today’s news doesn’t allow for that type of relief.

Shadow tilts my head back, forcing me to look in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” He asks refusing to allow me to avert my gaze away from him.

If he hated me after finding out about my visit to the abortion clinic, he’ll never forgive me for the adoption.

I hang my head, unable to utter the words.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks again.

I watch with trepidation as Emmalyn picks up the court documents from the floor and hands them to Shadow.

I hear him gasp, and then his body begins to tremble. I wait for the fallout, the screaming. I wait for his rejection and hate.

“It’ll be okay,” he says softly. He holds me tighter.

He doesn’t rant or call me evil. He doesn’t shove me away and tell me I’m a horrible mother. He doesn’t have to; I feel all of that on my own.

“Come on,” he says standing from the floor with me in his arms as if I weigh nothing.

I tuck my head into his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. I don’t look up until I feel my body being placed on an unfamiliar bed. Shadow crawls in beside me and pulls me to his chest.

“Don’t cry, Darlin’. It’ll be okay,” he repeats.

I shake my head against his chest. “It won’t be; they’re going to take our baby.”

He pulls his upper body away from me and clutches both sides of my face in his huge hands. “They aren’t taking our son.” It’s a vow, a promise, a declaration. He fully believes it.

I know different.

“I signed the papers.” I shake my head. “I didn’t think I had any other options.”

He pulls me against him once more.

“We’ll figure it out, Misty.”

I don’t know why I thought for a second that I could just steal away in the night, and that would be the end of it. I felt bad for leaving. I knew how much Rachel and Stewart wanted a baby. Their profile and knowing they’d been trying for years had a lot to do with why I’d chosen them. They had money, lots of money. I knew they could provide a much better life for Griffin than I ever could.

They weren’t ever going to give up. I’d hoped they’d just move on, that they’d see I was gone and they’d easily be picked up by another single mother who felt hopeless.

I lift my head and dart my eyes around the room. I can hear Griffin whimpering in his bed. He’s been napping for a couple hours. He sounds so close. I look over at the crib in the corner of Shadow’s room, but that’s not where the sound is coming from. He whimpers again, and my eyes land on an unfamiliar baby monitor on his bedside table.

I tilt my head, confused.

I feel Shadow shift his weight against me. “I’ll go get him,” he says standing from the bed and crossing the room.

“Hey there, big guy,” I hear Shadow say as he walks into my room next door. “Your momma needs you right now as much as you need her.”

I shudder knowing he’s heard all sorts of things I’ve said in that room when I felt like it was just Griffin and me. The pain hits my chest hard when Shadow walks back into the room with Griffin in his arms. My world feels like it’s falling apart, but the sight of Shadow nuzzling our son to his face brings a sense of calm, if only temporary.

I reach out for Griffin, pulling him immediately against my chest. He whimpers, telling me I’m holding him too tight.

I rock him in my arms as Griffin, unaware of the avalanche around us, grows increasingly frustrated.

“He’s hungry,” Shadow says reminding me why he’s so upset.

I pull up my shirt and allow him to nurse. I watch his bright blue eyes as he clutches the beaded necklace around my neck.

“I’ll be back,” I hear Shadow say from across the room. “I have some phone calls to make.”

I nod but keep my eyes on my son.

The door closes softly, and I hear Shadow’s heavy boots take him down the hall and away from us.

My heart tells me to trust Shadow; to believe that he will make everything right. The fine print I barely skimmed over when I signed the expedited consent with the counselor at Maternity House makes me want to pack my bags and run for the rest of our lives.

I’m a law-abiding citizen. I wear my seatbelt. I obey traffic laws. I’ve never even been tempted to steal a thing in my life. My biggest crime, if you could even call it that, was a few underage drinks I had in college before turning twenty-one. Now the state of Colorado is going to take my son because I was at a loss for how to provide for my child.

There’s no way Shadow can get around those laws. I signed the paperwork relinquishing the normal waiting period given to women after the birth. I waived my rights as Griffin’s parent.

I stare across the room at nothing in particular. I don’t even know how they found me, unless they were tracking my social security number and somehow found out I was working at Jake’s. I didn’t have to fill out an application to get the job, but I listed the clubhouse as my permanent address on my income tax paperwork. That’s the only time I’ve…

The birth certificate.

I had given Denver County the address for them to mail the document here. That had to be how they found me. I don’t even attempt to wipe away the tears that begin to flow down my cheeks again.

I have to leave. There’s no other recourse. I have some money in savings. I’d ask Shadow for a new identity, but I know he’ll only try to stop me if I tried to leave. He thinks he can fix this, but I know he can’t.

I know I can’t run forever. Griffin will eventually have to go to school. A million thoughts run through my head as I try to think of what to do next. Leaving the country, homeschooling, begging Shadow to come with us. Nothing seems like the perfect plan, but anything seems better than just sitting here, waiting for them to come take my baby.

My first instinct when I leave Misty with Griffin alone in the room is to drink an entire bottle of whiskey, and then that makes me start to question whether or not I’m a fucking alcoholic. In turn, that makes me pissed. So I go with my second instinct, and that’s to tear shit up.

I walk calmly from the clubhouse, ignoring both my sister and Emmalyn, who call after me as I make my way to the garage. I lock myself inside and try to take a calming breath. It’s not even feasible with the rage I have boiling over right now.

I flip over the table in the corner, taking each of the chairs that were around it and smashing them against the wall. The bike I’ve been fucking around with for months, my solace from all the other shit that’s been taking up residence in my head, becomes my next victim. The sledgehammer leaning against the fridge is all too appealing to me.

I’m pouring sweat, and the bike is utterly ruined by the time I collapse against the wall. The clank from the hammer hitting the concrete floor echoes around the room. I hang my head between my knees trying to catch my breath.

I hate the world right now. I hate myself for not being a better man. If I were a real man, I would’ve married Misty when I first found out about Griffin. I would’ve welcomed them both with open arms. I would’ve forgiven her, knowing just how hard of a time she must have had while she was pregnant. I don’t know if it would make any difference to the court, but the married biological parents of a child should hold some weight in court. Doing it now would only raise suspicion.

I hate the people wanting to take my son away from me. I have no clue who the fuck Rachel and Stewart Davis are. They could be the best people in the world, but they’d still never come close to being better for Griffin than his real parents.

I hate her for putting me in this situation. I hate her for bringing that baby here, letting me fall in love with him, and then possibly having it all taken away because she signed some fucking paperwork giving him away. I hate her for even considering trading him off so she could have a better life, so she wouldn’t be tied down, single with a kid.

That thought makes me hate myself again. Misty would never give up Griffin to make things easier for herself. Ten minutes watching the interaction between her and Griffin and anyone can see she’d lay down her life for that child. Deciding to put him up for adoption was going to be the biggest sacrifice of her life. It would’ve destroyed her, but it was something she would’ve done if it meant Griffin was provided for, something she felt her whole pregnancy she couldn’t do on her own.

I pull out my cell phone and call my attorney. I remain seated on the concrete floor because I’ve destroyed everything in the garage that would even resemble a chair.

“Shadow,” the familiar female voice says over the phone.

Dread sinks in my stomach for a brief second. I said I’d never regret any of my conquests, but as Angela Spears says my name in her sexy voice, I wish I’d never fucked her. I think about hanging up for a second but decide against it. She’s the best at what she does, and what we had was even more casual than casual sex. She’s a professional, and I know I’m in good hands with her.

“Angie,” I breathe into the phone. “I need your help.”

***

To say Angie was surprised by my reason to call her is an understatement, but she was helpful. I have a list of things I have to do to prepare for the court hearing Misty was summoned to attend.

I take a picture of the documentation I shoved in my back pocket before scooping her off the floor and eFax those to Angie’s office. I sit in the garage for a while longer, running the Davis’ through the investigative software that accesses remotely from my phone.

For a split second, I wished that Misty had picked assholes, people with something to hide. I didn’t find one damn skeleton in either of their closets. Had the situation been different, had Misty truly had nowhere to go, these people would make great parents for Griffin. That’s great for them but doesn’t bode well for us.

I look around at the mess inside of the garage, cringing when my eyes land on the demolished Harley Davidson V-Rod. I shake my head at the mayhem I created. I close the garage door behind me, knowing I’ll have to come back out at some point. For now, though, all I want is to be near my family.

I find Misty curled up in a ball still on my bed. Griffin is cradled against her chest chewing on the beads hung around her neck. He kicks his leg excitedly when he sees me walk in. I smile down at him, loving how seeing him and his mother in my bed makes me feel.

I tug off my boots and t-shirt and climb in the bed, sandwiching Griffin between us. The shifting of the bed has Misty jerking her eyes open and reaching out for Griffin. She must have thought he was going to tumble off. Her warm, soft hand finds my chest instead. I feel her fingers curl against my skin momentarily before she pulls her hand away. I miss her touch immediately.

She kisses our son’s head and then looks up into my eyes.

She’s frightened, terrified even. I can see her brain working, tell what she’s thinking without even saying a word.

“You need to stop,” I whisper.

She shakes her head and a tear rolls down her cheek. “I can’t.”

“Get it out of your head, Darlin’. You’re not going anywhere.”

I know exactly how she feels. I’d be lying if the idea didn’t cross my mind as well. I thought of all sorts of scenarios while I was in the garage just a bit ago.

“You can come with us,” she says as if she’s already made up her mind.

“No one is leaving. I talked with my attorney. We’ll get it all sorted out.” I reach out and tuck a stray strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Angie did say that the court you’ve been summoned to is only a preliminary hearing. She advised against bringing Griffin to Denver.”