Haunt (Bayonet Scars #6) by JC Emery

everything, and that includes you.”
    My kids?
    I can barely move at the thought of someone else fathering her children. Their seed growing in her belly. Sharing the experience of seeing her body change, creating a family with her . . .
    No.
    All the things I chose not to be a part of.
    “Kids?” It’s probably not the right time, but I can’t stop myself from asking. The idea of another man with her, inside of her, just tears me apart.
    She flinches. It’s almost painful how she reacts to my question. Does she know how it’s destroying me thinking about her having kids with someone else? Did she think of me and everything we were supposed to have when she had another man’s child? How many does she have . . . two, three? Did she plan them? Is he still in her life?
    There are so many questions, and I have no answers. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough answers to make sense of how she could have another man’s child. Not when we’d promised ourselves to each other. Not when she means everything to me.
    “We’ll talk about that after I decide whether or not you’re getting the chance to know my boy,” she says with an angry venom that seethes from her voice. If I’m not mistaken, there’s a hurt underneath it all that she’s trying to hide. She is strength and vulnerability all at once. She is every inch the ferocious mother to our son I knew she’d be. I didn’t just fall haphazardly in love with her all those years ago. I chose her because of everything that makes her who she is, but most of all because of this. Because Amber will scorch the earth to keep her loved ones safe. She did it for me once, and in that moment I knew she was and always would be the only woman I’d ever want to mother my children. I’ve always loved her, but now, as she rips me apart in defense of our son, I’ve never loved her more.
    “You come into my clubhouse after fourteen years and throw me attitude about shit you know nothing about, and I let it go.” I try to keep my voice level, but it’s no use. Everything in me feels like it’s exploding all at once. Every ounce of love I’ve ever had for this woman is fighting its way to the surface, practically strangling me on its way out. My words are all gravel and broken glass despite the passion behind them. Her brows are knit together, her eyes narrowed, lips parted. She’s ready to fight, but I refuse to spend any more time fighting with this woman.
    Three steps and we’re so close that I’m staring down at her with a craned neck just so I can meet her eyes. I reach out, finding purchase on her hip. She jerks back quickly but still not fast enough. This is our dance. We know the others’ moves so well that it’s become second nature. With my other hand, I pull her flush against me. She stops pulling back and glares up at me with annoyed green eyes that betray her. She likes this. She missed it. I can see it in the way her eyes lift in the corners as she smiles softly.
    “Look at me,” I say even though her eyes were already on mine.
    “I am,” she defends.
    “No, you’re not. I’m clean. Tell me the last time you’ve seen me straight.” It takes a moment, but then she gets it. Her face softens, and a sad smile graces the most gorgeous fucking lips I’ve ever seen. “I’m not that man anymore. A couple of years ago you laid that same shit on me you did the other day, and I ran like a fucking coward. Two years before that, five before that. Who knows how many times I’ve run the other fucking direction because I couldn’t handle the thought of fucking things up with you again.”
    My chest heaves with the weight of my confession. I’ve spent three days thinking about this—about her, about him—and figuring out what I was going to say when the time came. I thought I’d have a few more days, but here it is. Amber’s got to know that I’m in this and I’m clear headed and I can be the man both she and our son need.
    Searching her eyes, I try