Chapter 1 The President's Girl
Ellery's POV:
The anesthesia was wearing off. Even the slightest movement sent tremors of pain through my entire body, but my husband, Mullin Darnay, kept one steady hand on the bassinet, waiting for my answer.
"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"
Laughter came from the doorway before anyone could answer. My best friend, Iona Hayes, strolled in wearing my leather jacket, Mullin's silver club pin fastened to the collar.
I'd lent her that jacket to keep out the wind after my growing belly made it too tight for me.
The man behind her let out a whistle. "She's not crying, Iona. President's woman or not, you still have to wear that bunny outfit tonight."
Iona gave him a playful punch before settling onto Mullin's lap with a laugh. "I only wear that for your president."
I knew every one of those men. Everyone in Grey Ridge, Redstone, recognized the Iron Thorns emblem on their backs.
They were Mullin's most trusted buddies, the same men who'd once raised their beer bottles to me and promised, "We're family. No one's ever going to lay a hand on you."
When they showed up drunk at my house on stormy nights, I'd cleaned their muddy footprints off the entryway floor and made them coffee.
When one ended up in the hospital, I'd looked after his dog. When another got married, I'd stayed up all night finishing the leather boots his bride wanted to wear.
Now they crowded around my hospital bed, waiting for me to break down.
"You actually made a bet on this?"
Mullin kept an arm around Iona's waist, his voice indifferent. "It's just a joke. Keep your voice down. You want every nurse on the floor coming in here?"
My gaze fell on Iona's ring. She'd once claimed she'd bought it herself, then laughingly asked when Mullin was finally going to get me a bigger one.
Now, with their hands resting side by side, I could see that their rings were identical.
"When did this start?"
"That doesn't matter."
"I'm your wife."
Someone at the foot of the bed snickered.
Iona finally slipped off Mullin's lap, pulled out her phone, and held up a picture.
In it, she stood outside the courthouse holding a bouquet of flowers, while Mullin leaned down to kiss her.
"We're married, Ellery."
My fingers curled into my palms. After a long silence, I managed to ask, "Then what about our wedding?"
I remembered the little chapel on the edge of the desert, the roar of motorcycle engines filling the highway outside.
Mullin had draped a vest embroidered with his name over my shoulders and promised that no one would ever take me away from him again. His buddies had clinked their beer bottles against mine.
"Welcome home, Ellery."
"We never applied for a marriage license," Mullin said. "The papers you signed and the marriage certificate were all fake. I had them made."
My lips parted, but no words came.
Identification, taxes, insurance. Whenever any of it came up, he'd assured me someone would take care of everything.
I'd never thought to question the man who'd held my hand in front of a pastor and said, "I do."
"Iona's my wife. As for you..." He pulled the blanket back over me. "You can still be my girl, if that's what you want."
I slapped his hand away, accidentally dislodging my IV. Blood trickled down my wrist.
Iona took half a step back, wrinkling her nose as though the sight disgusted her.
"You've just given birth. Don't get yourself all worked up. I'll help you look after Nestor."
She reached for the bassinet.
I gripped the bed rail with everything I had. "Don't touch my son."
Mullin's patience finally snapped. He had someone escort Iona outside, then pressed the call button for a nurse.
Once the room fell quiet, he held a piece of gauze against the back of my hand. The familiar ease of his touch brought back memories of all those mornings he'd accompanied me to fertility treatments.
At last, I asked, "Why are you doing this to me?"
His hand came down hard on my incision.
"Six years ago, when you left me in that room, you should've known this day would come."
