“Holy shit,” Reilly whispered. “A baby.”
“Looks like a newborn,” Bryson said, raising his face and his gaze circling all of them. “Is this where you found it?”
“Yeah,” Dutch answered. “Came in through the gate and then the back door this mornin’, so I didn’t spot it.”
“Saw the box when I came in the front door earlier,” Whip said. “Didn’t check it right away thinkin’ someone dropped a part off or somethin’ overnight.”
“Has it cried at all?” Bryson asked as he pulled back the green blanket the baby was wrapped in and ran a finger over its pudgy cheek. Its eyes were open and it made a little noise that sort of sounded like a kitten’s mew.
“Nope,” Dutch answered, his bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows pinned together.
“It doesn’t look sick. But I’m calling EMS to come get it and take it to the ER.”
“You need to find its mother,” Reilly said, squatting next to Bryson and also touching the kid.
“Yo, Captain Obvious, maybe you shouldn’t touch it,” Cage told her.
“It isn’t a fucking baby bird!”
He winced. Her shout didn’t help his pounding head. “Don’t gotta yell.”
“Well, don’t be an asshole.”
Ignoring them, Bryson grabbed his radio mic from his shoulder and called for a “bus.” Pig-speak for an ambulance.
“What’s gonna happen to it?” Whip asked, his brow furrowed.
Bryson glanced up at him. “We’ll have to call Child Protective Services. They can deal with it until the mother’s found or someone comes forward to claim it. If someone does. But this baby was just born. He’s as tiny as Levi was.”
Bryson did another quick inspection, then reached into the box full of blankets, picked the kid up and rose to his feet, holding it against his chest. He peeled the blanket back a little more, exposing the fact the baby wore a thick towel around his bottom area instead of a diaper.
Something was pinned to the front of the towel.
“What’s that?” Reilly asked. Before she could pluck it off the makeshift diaper, Bryson grabbed it and scanned what looked like a handwritten note.
“Shit,” he muttered and his crystal blue eyes hit Cage’s.
His dropped from the cop’s face to the note as it was shoved into his chest.
Cage’s stomach dropped, too, when Bryson said, “Better read that.”
Chapter Two
Better read that.
Cage wasn’t so sure he wanted to.
No, he knew he didn’t.
He had no fucking choice.
He gripped the note as Bryson’s fingers released it. And everything around him went out of focus.
Better read that.
His heart was fighting to escape his chest. His mouth became as dry as a desert. An invisible hand squeezed his throat.
“What the fuck does it say, boy?” Dutch bellowed at him. His father had an extreme case of impatience. Today wasn’t any different.
Cage pulled the small scrap of paper away from his chest and slowly let his gaze drop from his father to it.
Christopher,
I kept it a secret as long as possible. From you, from everyone.
When I couldn’t conceal it anymore, my family hid me until the birth.
I had no choice but to give our baby up or be shunned.
I can’t live in your world and you can never live in mine. Nor would you want to.
I’m sorry. This is for the best.
God forgive me.
God forgive you.
May God bless this child He made.
~ S
S?
Sarah?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck!
He’d only been with her a couple times. At the end of her rumspringa, after she had decided she wouldn’t join the church. She stated a few times she no longer wanted to live the Amish life. She planned on leaving her community and living among the “English.”
That was what she said.
Before she changed her mind, apparently.
She had shyly flirted with him when she came along with her cousin, Rebecca, and the others to drop off weekly supplies at The Barn.
Then she encouraged him to sneak off a couple times...
To show her what a kiss was like.
And then...
Fuck.
She stopped coming. He hadn’t thought much about it. He certainly had no reason to go looking for her. It wasn’t a thing, it was just a fling. A little forbidden fun on both their parts.
Trip didn’t want any of them fucking with the Amish. Especially with what happened between Sig and Rebecca.
His prez would be fucking pissed. Fucking furious if Cage’s fuck-up threatened the club’s relationship with the plain people.
His eyes slid back to his father, whose mouth was moving, but Cage couldn’t hear anything coming out of it. Maybe that was for the best.
His father was friendly with some of the elders...
Fuck. Shit. Motherfucker.
He crumpled the note within his fist and walked away, raking fingers through his hair. He kept going until he hit the edge of the concrete sidewalk that ran past the garage. He stopped, planted one hand on his hip and stared sightlessly across the street. Tempted to step out into the roadway when the next big truck sped by.