“You fucking dick!” she screamed. “Where the fuck is my brother?”

I was about to yell back at her that I didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about when Grease took a step forward, so we were standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder.

“The fuck are you doing here, Callie? You’re outta your goddamn mind!” he yelled back, walking toward her.

“What did you do with my brother?” she yelled again, retreating a little every time Grease took a step forward until her back was against the side of her car.

I could feel Brenna shaking behind me with every step closer that Grease got to the woman with the weapon.

“Your brother’s fine. Now, put that fuckin’ thing away before you get your ass shot,” Grease told her calmly as he reached her and pulled the weapon from her hand. “Fuckin’ idiot. What did you think you were gonna do with a fuckin’ Taser in a clubhouse surrounded by armed men?” he asked as he dropped the black thing to the ground.

All the boys in the forecourt breathed a sigh of relief. None of us wanted to take out a woman, but nobody moved.

As soon as the Taser hit the ground, she went batshit fuckin’ crazy. She was swinging her fists and her legs, intent on hitting Grease anywhere she could reach. He grabbed her around the waist, but she didn’t stop. I could see her trying to bite him, and I winced as she got a hold of a good chunk in his shoulder. That had to fuckin’ hurt.

I couldn’t understand what she was yelling about, but I could hear Grease just fine, and the way he was talkin’ to her made me wonder where the fuck I’d seen her before.

“It’s okay, baby. He’s fine. He’s fine. It’s okay. Shhh,” he told her softly as her struggles finally ceased, and she went limp in his arms, her mouth falling off his shoulder where her teeth marks had caused blood to run down his chest. “Fuck, baby, what were you fuckin’ thinkin’?”

I shook my head and turned Brenna toward the clubhouse. I knew the crazy bitch from somewhere, but I wasn’t gonna waste time trying to figure it out. Grease could take care of it. I had more important shit to do, like making up for lost time with my woman.

My pregnancy went really well. I didn’t have any of the problems with this baby that I’d had with the twins. My blood pressure stayed steady, my hips didn’t ache, and my feet didn’t swell. The doctors told me it was the difference between carrying twins and a single baby, but I thought it was Dragon.

He still went on runs, and when he did, Casper stayed with us. Tony was no longer a threat, but Dragon didn’t want us home alone for an entirely new reason. I didn’t know if it was the baby’s uneasy beginning, our history with the twins, or just Dragon’s overprotectiveness, but he wouldn’t leave until he knew someone was going to be around the house. It drove Slider crazy, but I loved it. I loved that he was taking care of us. I never felt stifled or annoyed. I felt protected, cherished.

We’d wanted to find out the sex. I was too anxious to wait, but every ultrasound had been a bust. I’d been really annoyed. I’d wanted to start planning early, but Dragon just laughed when we never got a clear indication either way. I thought he was just relieved that the baby was healthy. We never fought about things even though I knew half the time I was being a total bitch. Dragon would just shake his head at me like I was crazy and go on doing whatever he was doing at the time.

It wasn’t until I decided I would try to have the baby naturally, rather than a C-section, that Dragon put his foot down. He’d sat with me during the consultation when the doctor gave us all of the worst-case scenarios, and he was pissed as hell that I was willing to take any chances. The fight went on for weeks, but it finally came to a head when I was about seven months along.

“Brenna, there is no fuckin’ way that I’m gonna let you put yourself in danger just because you wanna commune with motherfuckin’ nature or whatever the hell it is you got in your head,” he told me one night as we were lying in bed.

“They can get the baby out in like sixty seconds if something goes wrong. The chances of anything happening are slim. Baby, seriously, they know what they’re doing.” I laid my head on his chest and traced my finger over where he’d gone in and had Trix’s star enlarged on his Orion’s Belt tattoo.

“They give you all of these things they say could go wrong, make you sign a fuckin’ paper that says you’re not gonna sue them, and you don’t see nothin’ wrong with that?” He shook his head. “You’re not doin’ it, baby. You’re havin’ a fuckin’ C-section, like they advised you to fuckin’ do. Not gonna lose you. End of story.”

And that was that. I’d been willing to give him the peace of mind that he needed. It wasn’t like I’d been looking forward to hours of labor anyway. I’d just have to let my fears of another C-section go.

So, there I was, lying in an operating room, surrounded by doctors and nurses, waiting for them to cut me open and get our child out. I didn’t sleep last night because I was too anxious, but when we got out of bed this morning, I was completely calm. I could do this.

My arms were strapped to the table by my head, and it was scary, but Dragon was there holding my hand. His face was covered with a surgical mask, and he was dressed in scrubs, the sleeves so tight around his chest and biceps that he looked like a stripper. All he needed was a stethoscope and a boom box. The thought made me smile.

“How you doin’, Little Mama?” he asked me quietly, his face close to mine.