Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 98

Ezra

My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I don't take it out.

Instead, I smile at the interaction between Wren, Beth and the kids.

"Mommy, aunt's Wren arm is all better. Look!" Noah pokes at Wren's injury site.

Wren winces.

"It is better, Noah darling. But we don't go around poking people, okay?" Beth scolds softly.

"Oops." He gives Wren a toothy grin. "Sorry, aunt Wren."

She ruffles his hair. "That's okay. But uncle EJ and I have to go now."

As she moves to get up from between all three of them, Hannah clutches onto her arm.

"Can I come live with you and daddy?"

Her blonde hair is up in a messy bun, big blue eyes staring up at Wren. The more I stare at both of them, I realize that Hannah could pass for Wren's daughter.

And when Wren picks her up, something in my chest squeezes. It looks to me like family.

My brain pictures Wren pregnant, a baby. Hannah would love to be a big sister—except Mitch wants her to be with their gang.

Christ.

Dread chills me to the bones when I realize I have to tell Mitch about his brother's daughter. I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"—and then you can come live with us, okay?" I catch the end of Wren's response.

"Okay. When will daddy be done with his work?"

"Soon, honey."

Wren gives me a small smile and a subtle nod, indicating that we're ready to go as she drops Hannah to the floor.

Patting my thighs, I stand to my feet.

They all escort us out of the house. All our suitcases are already loaded in the trunk of the car.

Beth pulls me to the side while Wren and the kids head on forward. "AJ told me about what's going on."

"What's going on?" I frown.

"The pictures…you and Wren. He said he's unable to find the person behind it."

A deep breath expands my chest. "Yea, I…I don't know what to do. I get those cryptic messages almost everyday and blurry photos of us."

"You're going to the clubhouse first, yes?"

"Yes."

"Tell Raymond."

I shake my head. "Not yet, Beth."

"Someone knows about you guys, tell him before it gets to him."

"I know, I will. Wren and I need to talk about it though."

She hugs me, rubbing my back the way she always did when we were young. It used to soothe me, comfort me—still does in a way.

"Call me when you get home," she murmurs.

"I will."

"And stop asking AJ to do a background check on George! It's weird."

I snort. "Why's he snitching? Your Georgie boyfriend needs to be researched."

Her cheeks tinge a bit, and she smacks me lightly before pushing me towards the car.

Wren and the kids are busy yapping away, and when I approach them, their little legs run to me.

I don't know how I do it, but I pick both of them up, giving them raspberry kisses until they giggle and wiggle out of my hold.

"Bye daddy and aunt Wren!" Hannah waves.

"Bye Uncle EJ, and aunt Wren." Noah echoes.

Beth pulls Wren into a hug. "Thank you for taking those pictures of my mom, and thank you for visiting with Ezra."

I pretend not to hear it, hiding the smile on my face.

"Anytime, Beth. Visit her soon, okay? I promise she's better."

We wave our remaining goodbyes until I'm driving down the road and they're just tiny dots in the background.

The car ride goes on smoothly until my phone vibrates again in the center console, and I frown.

Another vibration.

Then another.

"Should I check it?" Wren asks.

"Can you read it?"

It's supposed to come out as a joke, but with the blackmail I've been getting, the words come out a little forced.

Because I know those messages are from whoever the blackmailer is.

Her brows furrow. "Well, no. But I can try."

"Baby," I sigh, pulling to a stop at the side of the road. "I need to tell you something."

Narrowed eyes pin me to the spot, lips curling downwards. "Everything okay?"

"Not quite." I exhale harshly, and grab the phone.

Sure enough it's more blurred pictures with texts hinting that they know it's Wren and me.

I scroll to the end, and freeze.

The last picture is blurry but I know where this was taken. Minnesota.

Did they…were we followed?

My throat tightens when I look at Wren, her bright blue eyes waiting for an explanation.

"You've gone cold, what is it?" She says softly, squeezing my thigh.

My jaw tightens and I turn the phone towards her, showing the pictures. I notice the moment she registers it, her hands tighten on me.

"Wh-what is this, Ezra?"

"Us," I reply. "Blurred out pictures of us."

"From who? When? Oh my god, someone knows." Her eyes widen, chest heaving. "Someone knows, Ezra. We need to tell Ray before this gets to him. Who is doing this? What do they want?"

My hands find the back of her neck, squeezing gently. "Breathe darling." I tilt her chin upward.

"Eyes on me, breathe."

We work on our breaths together.

In. Out.

Until we're both calm.

"I don't know who is behind this. I don't know what they want and I'm not asking," I say. "If you ask a blackmailer what they want, they'd know you're scared and are willing to give them any, and everything."

"I don't know about you, but I am fucking terrified Ezra. How long have you been getting those pictures?"

I don't respond immediately.

"How long, Ezra?"

"That doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't!" She shrieks. "When did it start?"

"Before we left for Minnesota."

"Jesus Christ, Ezra. And you didn't think to tell me? You didn't think I should know about this? Did you even plan to tell me in the first place?"

I nod. "I did. I wanted to tell you last night before we made it back here to New Orleans, but we were having such a good time. I didn't want to ruin it:"

"You do realize we were followed right?"

That's the part that chills me to the fucking marrow. Someone followed us to Minnesota, took our pictures… and I didn't have a single clue.

What sort of VP am I? If something happened to Wren, or Judi and Andre…I wouldn't have known.

"Fuck!" I slam my hand on the steering and the horn blares. "Fuck, Wren. I…I…"

"We're telling Ray."

"Not yet," I say. "We can't. I have to find the person, and I promise I'm on it—"

"Are you listening to yourself? Someone knows about us, they have proof!" She seethes. "Ray will find out from them and not us. The person knows we're hiding it from Ray!"

My brain is working overtime, jaw clenching and unclenching, heart pounding in my chest. I'm thinking of everything at once.

Who is behind this?

What do they want?

Why go through that stress of following us to Minnesota?

What the fuck do they want?

"Ezra—"

"Let me think, Wren!"

She scoffs, and shakes her head. "The only reason I'm not calling Ray right now to spill it all is because we're together, and we have to be a team about this. But if Ray finds out before we tell him and everything goes to shit…"

Yea, the unspoken message is clear. It'll be my fault.

"He won't find out. We will tell him together, I promise."

"I…I can't be here. I'll walk the rest of the way." She pops the door open.

"Fuck no! Get in the car, Wren."

"The clubhouse is just there. I can manage."

"I don't fucking care. Get in the goddamn car!"

She glares, getting out and slamming the door shut. "Don't speak to me like that, Ezra. I'm definitely not the cause of whatever this is."

I groan. "I'm sorry."

"Save it."

Turning on the ignition, I crawl behind her as she walks, my knuckles whitening on the wheel.

It's a traitorous ride to the clubhouse. I've never driven this slow in my entire life, and hell, my thoughts sit with me.

I regret snapping at her.

She's right, she's not the cause of this. And I should tell Ray, she's been pushing for that long before we became official.

And we will tell him.

I need just a little more time. She has no idea how tense the clubhouse is right now.

After beating Reggie up to the point of near-death, Ray killing one of Smitties' men and discovering that Lydia Smith—Ray's mom and Wren's step mom—is the president of the gang Tristan was in, it's a lot for Ray and I.

It's suffocating. And I know it's not the time to tell Ray about it.

But she won't understand.

Ray will kill me if I tell him, especially at such a time.

Finally, after what feels like hours, we arrive at the clubhouse. Wren walks in without waiting for me.

I spot Donovan, typing on his phone outside.

"VP!" He nods. "Welcome back."

I frown. "Why are you outside?"

He points to the cigarette between his lips. "Needed to clear my head."

"Can I have one?"

He holds up the box to me and I take a stick, lighting it up with the lighter he holds out. "Thanks."

"You good?"

"Yeah. Ray in?"

"Yup. He's been here most of the time."

I take a drag, welcoming the nicotine burn. And then I exhale it, and it feels like all my thoughts are evaporating with the puff of smoke.

"Any news?"

"There's always news," he replies. "Though, I heard that the president of Smitties MC has reached out."

I stiffen. "When?"

He shrugs. "Don't know, man."

Just then, my phone blares.

It's Ray.