Zoey pulled her suitcase through the house, the padded wheels almost silent, the weight of the bag negligible with the ease of movement.
Good thing, she thought; now wasn’t the time to be carrying it.
With that thought, she entered the kitchen to face the family that had gathered around her, supported her, comforted her. And now, she hoped, was willing to let her leave.
Sitting with the various Mackays, in-laws, and out-laws as she liked to call them, was Harley. Harley Matthews though, rather than Perdue. Leaning back in a kitchen chair, his shaggy dark brown hair lying around his face, his blue eyes quiet and intense, he gave her a little wink when he caught sight of her.
He’d been a little worse for wear the night Jack had tried to kill her and Doogan, but his head was harder than anyone imagined, it seemed.
“Hey, sis,” Dawg greeted her gently. “Everything good?” He asked her that every morning. He worried, and in the time she’d spent with him, the hours they’d spent talking, she understood why. Just as, she hoped, he understood why she’d felt smothered and restrained by that worry.
“I hope the cleaners are finished at the apartment because I’m going home.” Zoey faced her family in her brother’s kitchen as they sat around the huge table drinking coffee.
Dawg, Natches, Rowdy, and their wives; Timothy and her mother; her sisters and their husbands were all present that evening. Timothy had arranged the meeting after receiving the final report on the status of the pact between the three motorcycle packs. Zoey had turned the negotiations over to the female agent who had assisted her for the past two years, her heart no longer in the adventure.
With the report on the pact were the final reports on Jack’s activities and the events that led to his death at his brother’s hand.
Billy was home from the hospital and under the care of several medical techs provided by Homeland Security. The motorcycle pack Jack had led was finally released with the exception of Jack’s three co-conspirators and the firing of several human resources employees from Fort Knox.
The past weeks had been hell. She just wanted to go home, hide, and figure out what to do after the news she’d received herself that day sank in.
Everyone stared at her silently, their gazes moving from the suitcase at her side, then back to her face.
“You don’t have to leave, Zoey.” Christa spoke gently from Dawg’s side. “You know we’ve enjoyed having you here.”
“I’m ready to go home.” She couldn’t rage here. She couldn’t cry, grieve, or let herself find the comfort she’d learned that morning that Doogan had given her before he left.
“All right.” Dawg nodded, shocking her with his answer as well as the somberness in his gaze. “Do me a favor, though?”
“What?” she asked warily. He’d agreed far too easily.
“Let me and Natches come over in a few days and redo the security. I’ll never sleep at night worrying about you and the baby otherwise.”
She froze for a second before her gaze jumped to her sisters. But they were just as shocked. They hadn’t told. Then Zoey turned slowly to her mother.
Her mother, Mercedes, stared at Timothy, a frown on her face, her arms crossed over her breasts.
“Timothy?” she questioned him warningly.
“Not me.” Tim’s hands went up, denial creasing his face and filling his eyes. “Stop glaring at me.”
“I knew you were at the doctor’s office this morning,” Dawg sighed. “Jenkins is an OB/GYN, Zoey. I’m not a fool, sweetheart.”
No, he wasn’t a fool.
“You are not to tell Doogan,” she informed him, suddenly afraid he would do just that. “None of you are.”
“Zoey.” Graham drew her attention. He was Doogan’s friend, the one person in the room who would call him the quickest. “That’s not our place, sweetheart. If you want Doogan to know, then you can tell him. We’re here for you, though. However you need our support.”
However she needed their support.
She needed Doogan, ached for him, missed him desperately. He’d called her several times a week since he’d left, checking on her, sometimes just discussing the day when he called late at night. But he hadn’t mentioned coming back. He hadn’t told her why he left as he had.
And she didn’t want a man who had to be guilted into her bed. She hadn’t told him her suspicions and she wouldn’t tell him they were confirmed now. She would slowly stop taking his calls, let him disappear from her life as he so obviously wanted to disappear.
“Thank you.” The tightness in her throat was nearly impossible to swallow around.
Before leaving there was the round of hugs, her sisters’ tears, her brother’s and cousins’ regret, and Graham’s whispered “I’m sorry, little sis.”