The morning light streamed through the cracked blinds, casting long shadows across the room. I lay there, in the stillness, the weight of yesterday pressing against me, but something about today felt different. Like it was the start of something.

Everest was still asleep beside me, his breathing deep and steady. There was a calm in the air, a fleeting moment of peace before the world came crashing in again.

I slid out of bed, careful not to wake him, and made my way to the bathroom. The cold tile under my bare feet grounded me, the silence a sharp contrast to the storm of emotions swirling in my chest. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, feeling like a stranger and yet, somehow, more familiar than I had in days.

Things were changing. And I wasn't sure if I was ready for it. But I knew I had to face it, head-on.

As I stood naked in front of the mirror, I couldn't help but inspect my belly. I studied myself from every angle, trying to see if anything had changed—if I was showing or if it was just bloating. Nothing seemed obvious, but I couldn't shake the uncertainty. I glanced over my shoulder, catching sight of Everest still passed out in bed, completely unaware of everything. He had no idea what I was carrying, and part of me was still too scared to tell him. I didn't know how he'd react or what would happen next.

He'd been so kind and sweet to me lately, treating me with a tenderness that made me wonder if everything could be okay. But deep down, I knew better. Life never seemed to go the way I hoped, and I had a sinking feeling that this wouldn't be any different.

With a soft sigh, I closed the bathroom door, leaning against it for a moment before stepping into the shower. The steam and hot water wrapped around me, offering a temporary escape, a moment of peace in a world that felt too uncertain.

The warm water was starting to cool down when I finally stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself. The clock on the wall told me it was already the middle of the day, and the house felt eerily quiet. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with myself, still reeling from everything that had happened in the past few days. I needed to clear my head.

As I walked downstairs, I heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching, and sure enough, there was Brooke at the front door, looking as frazzled as I felt. She didn't even need to say much before I knew something was off.

"Hey, you alright?" I asked, my voice low, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

She let out a frustrated sigh as she leaned against the doorframe. "No, not really. Austin and I had a huge fight this morning. Same old stuff. We've been arguing a lot lately. Just... it's exhausting."

I could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the kind that only comes after too many late-night arguments and too many broken conversations. Brooke had always been the one to hold it all in, and I could tell it was starting to wear her down.

"I'm sorry, Brooke," I said, walking over and giving her a brief hug. "You wanna get out of here for a bit? "

Her eyes lit up with a small, almost mischievous grin. "Actually... that's exactly what I need. I'm getting plastered today. Don't even care anymore."

I chuckled weakly, but the truth was, I wasn't in any mood to drink. Not today. Not with everything going on in my head. But before I could say anything, she was already rambling again.

"I just want to forget about everything for a while, you know? Austin's been a mess, and I'm just so done with it. I need a distraction. Or maybe I just need to stop caring for a little bit."

The urge to tell her everything flooded me, but I hesitated. Instead, I took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that twisted in my stomach.

"Here take a shot with me." She says, sliding over a glass, instantly taking hers, without wasting another second and I laughed nervously.

"Brooke, I can't drink today," I said quietly, avoiding her gaze. She raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "I... I'm not feeling like it." I say, and she groans at my disappointing comment.

I place the shot back on the counter and sigh looking up at her. " Brooke... there's something I need to tell you." I say.

Her expression softened, sensing the change in my tone. "What's going on?" she asked gently.

I swallowed hard, feeling my heart race as I glanced up at her. "I'm pregnant."

The words came out quieter than I intended, but I could see the instant recognition in her eyes. She didn't say anything for a moment, just studied me carefully.

"Wait, what?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "But, I thought... you and Everest..."

"I haven't told him yet," I cut in quickly, my voice cracking slightly. "I don't know how. It's too soon. And the last time I was pregnant... I lost it. I'm too early to even be sure, but if I am, it could still happen again."

Brooke took a step closer, her concern evident. "Avery, I won't say anything to anyone, I promise. But why haven't you told Everest?"

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to steady myself. "I don't know. I'm scared, Brooke. I don't want him to worry, and I don't even know what to do with this. It's all just... too much."

She nodded, clearly understanding the weight of my words. "You don't have to do it alone, Avery. But you need to tell him. You're not carrying this alone, even if you feel like it."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, before shaking my head. "I just need some time, okay? But please, don't tell anyone about this. Not even Austin. Please."

"I won't say a word," she promised, her voice soft but firm. "And if you ever want to talk, I'm here. You know that, right?"

I gave her a tight smile, feeling some of the tension ease off my shoulders. "Yeah. I know. Thanks, Brooke."

With that, we stayed in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging between us. " well I guess I'm gonna take this one for you." She says, grabbing the shot and downing it.

The atmosphere in the bar was buzzing with energy, but it seemed like everything had slowed down around me. Brooke was leaning heavily against the counter, her cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over. I couldn't help but watch her, her words slurring together as she tried to maintain some sense of composure.

"Come on, Brooke," I said softly, my hand on her arm, trying to guide her toward the stairs. "Let's get you to bed, okay? You've had way too much."

But she stubbornly shook her head, her balance swaying dangerously. "No... no, I'm not going anywhere," she muttered, swatting at my hand. "I'm fine. I just... I just need a minute, alright?"

I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. This wasn't like her. She was always the strong one, the one who didn't let anything knock her down. But right now, I could see the cracks forming, the mask she'd been wearing starting to slip. I couldn't leave her like this, especially not in this state.

"You're not fine, Brooke," I said gently, my voice thick with concern. "Please, just come with me. You'll feel better once you lie down."

But she shook her head again, harder this time. "No, Avery," she snapped, her words more forceful, though still tinged with drunkenness. "I'm not going anywhere. Just leave me be."

I was at a loss for what to do, watching as Brooke slouched on the barstool, her eyes starting to close. That's when the door to the bar swung open, and in walked Austin. He stopped, scanning the room before his gaze landed on Brooke. His expression softened for a split second, but the look quickly shifted as he noticed how out of it she was.

"Austin," I said, walking toward him, my voice low and urgent. "She's had too much. Please, can you take her upstairs? She won't listen to me."

Austin looked at me for a moment, his eyes hard but then, finally, he nodded. Without saying a word, he crossed the room, and before I could react, he had picked her up, throwing her effortlessly over his shoulder.

Brooke let out a half-hearted protest. "You don't love me, Austin!" she shouted, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. "You're lying to me! You don't care about me at all!"

I could feel the tension rise between them, but Austin didn't even flinch. He didn't respond, didn't offer any explanation. His jaw clenched, and he just throws her over his shoulder, carrying her up the stairs without a second glance at me. The sound of his boots hitting the stairs echoed through the room as they disappeared from sight.

I stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of Brooke's words linger in the air. It felt like I was witnessing something unraveling between them, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I sighed deeply, the weight of everything pressing on me as I stepped outside onto the back porch. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the heavy atmosphere inside the bar. The lake stretched out before me, the moonlight dancing on its surface, casting an almost ethereal glow. I leaned against the railing, letting the quiet wash over me, trying to clear my mind, if only for a moment.

But the peace was short-lived. From behind me, I heard a voice, dripping with sarcasm. "Well, well, well, look who decided to escape the chaos."

I turned around to see Bree, her steps unsteady, her eyes glassy with the alcohol clearly taking its toll on her. Her face twisted into a sly smile, but there was something behind her eyes—something dark and accusatory.

"What do you want, Bree?" I asked, my voice flat. I wasn't in the mood for any drama, especially not from her.

She stepped closer, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she came to stand beside me at the railing. "You think you're the only one who matters to Everest, don't you?" she spat, her words slurring slightly. "Like you're the one who's always been there for him."

I straightened, trying to keep my composure despite the growing irritation. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do," she continued, leaning in closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You know, I was there for him when no one else was. When he was in prison, when he needed someone... I was there for him, not you."

I rolled my eyes, not even slightly fazed. "And you think that gives you some kind of special connection?" I asked, keeping my tone steady. "I know what you think happened, Bree, but you have it all wrong."

Bree smirked, her eyes narrowing. "You'll never understand. You weren't there for him the way I was. You don't know what it's like. What we had—what we still have—is something you'll never get. So don't pretend like you're the one who matters most to him."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "You really think Everest cares about you like that?" I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling more confident with each word."You can keep trying to claim some special connection, but you're just fooling yourself."

She faltered, her face flushing with frustration. "You're delusional," she muttered under her breath, taking a step back.

I couldn't help but smile. "If I'm delusional, then I'm fine with it. Because I know where I stand with Everest. And it sure isn't where you think you stand."

She shot me one last glare before turning and stumbling back toward the bar. I stood there for a moment, watching her go, unfazed. I knew Everest's history, and I knew his heart. Bree didn't stand a chance against what we had, and that was something I wasn't going to let anyone make me doubt.

I took a deep breath and looked back out at the lake. The calmness returned, and I let the night air settle me. I didn't need to entertain Bree's jealousy. Everest had made his feelings clear, and I knew what I had with him was real. Whatever history he had with Bree, it didn't matter. I had everything I needed right here.

I had been lying in bed for hours, my mind racing. Everest wasn't there, and I didn't see him downstairs when I was trying to settle earlier. I tried texting him, but there was no response, and the knot in my stomach tightened every minute I spent without hearing from him. The silence stretched on, and eventually, exhaustion caught up with me, and I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, the clock read 3:00 AM, and I immediately checked my phone. Still no message from Everest. My heart sank a little as I sat up, staring at the screen as if willing it to light up with his name. But nothing. I didn't even know where he could be, and it only made the sense of unease grow stronger.

I couldn't take it anymore, so I decided to call him. The phone rang several times before going to voicemail, and I quickly hung up, frustration boiling under my skin. What was going on? Where was he?

I threw the covers off and rushed downstairs, stepping carefully around the scattered bodies of drunk bikers who had passed out all over the place. It was a chaotic sight, but it did little to calm the anxious buzz in my chest. The place was eerily quiet for this time of night, and I felt more alone than I had in a while.

I knocked on Ghost's office door, expecting maybe to find some sign of Everest or at least a clue as to where he had gone. But when there was no answer, I felt a fresh wave of panic rise in me.

Just as I was about to turn back, the door swung open, and Everest barged through, looking disheveled and frantic. He wasn't alone.

Ghost was beside him, both of them supporting a man between them. The sight that hit me made my blood run cold. The man they were carrying was covered in blood, barely conscious, his face pale and sickly. My heart skipped a beat.

"What happened?" I stammered, rushing toward them, but Everest shook his head, his face etched with a mix of fear and urgency.

I crouch down beside the young man, trying to steady my breathing as I look at his pale face. The blood staining his clothes tells me how serious the situation is, and I know time is running out. I need to work quickly, but my hands still tremble, my mind swirling with the panic Everest and Ghost are clearly feeling too.

"Avery!" Everest's voice is sharp with urgency, his eyes wide with worry. "Can you fix him?"

I rush over, my heart racing as they lay the man—Sticks, as Everest said—down on the couch. The kid couldn't be older than 25. His skin is pale, and his eyes flutter weakly as he struggles to stay conscious. I can feel the weight of the moment bearing down on me. This is real. It's not some practice run; this is a life in my hands.

"He needs a hospital!" I say, my voice thick with panic, my stomach tightening. There's no other way to put it. The injuries are severe. The gunshot wound in his stomach is grisly, and the blood is still pooling on the floor.

"No, no hospital!" Ghost's voice is urgent, his hands slick with blood as he shrugs off his jacket, wiping his face. Both he and Everest are drenched in it, the reality of what they've been through evident in their strained faces. I swallow hard, trying to steady myself.

"What's his name?" I ask, my voice steadying slightly as I kneel down next to the kid, starting to assess the damage. The blood is already starting to coagulate around the gunshot wound in his stomach. There's another gunshot wound in his shoulder, deep and brutal.

"Sticks. Can you save him?" Everest asks, his voice tight, his eyes searching mine for some kind of hope. I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure.

I take a deep breath, the shock hitting me hard, but I push it away. This isn't the time for fear. This is the time to act. "I need supplies," I tell Everest, my voice surprisingly steady despite the chaos. "I need bandages, antiseptics—everything you can find."

Everest nods without hesitation, quickly turning and darting into the back room. His movements are sharp, frantic. But he doesn't waste time.

As I kneel beside the kid, I push my fear aside, focusing on what I can do. My hands tremble slightly, but I can't let it affect me. This isn't just an injury; it's a life on the line. And I can't let anything distract me from that.

Time feels like it stretches, every second seeming to crawl by, but I work quickly, cleaning the wounds, applying pressure, and stitching where necessary. I try to stabilize him as best as I can, but I know it's not enough. It's never enough.

When I finally look up, Everest is standing next to me, his face pale, his jaw clenched in concern. His hands are resting on his hips, but his eyes are glued to the young man on the couch, and I can see the silent question in them.

"Is he going to be okay?" Everest asks quietly, his voice full of worry. I can hear the vulnerability in it, and it breaks something in me. He's trying so hard to hold it together, but I can see it in his eyes. He's terrified.

I bite my lip, doing my best to stay calm. "I don't know," I admit, my voice breaking slightly. "I did what I could, but he needs to get to a hospital. We can't do much more here."

"No, we can't do that. We'll have our doc come." Everest's voice is low but firm, a sense of determination creeping into it. His gaze never leaves Sticks, the weight of what's happening crashing down on both of us. I stand up slowly, glancing down at the young man.

The moment feels like an eternity, but suddenly, Sticks stirs. His body jerks slightly, and I see his eyes flicker open, groggy, confused, and clearly in pain. My heart leaps, relief flooding me just a little, but the situation is far from over.

Ghost reappears then, holding a small bottle of pills and a beer in his hand. He's clearly been through this before, his movements automatic as he approaches Sticks. The kid groans in pain as Ghost pops two pills in his mouth, holding the bottle of beer to his lips, helping him drink.

Everest pulls me into him, his arms strong and comforting as he presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. "Thank you, baby," he murmurs, his voice full of gratitude. He walks over to the fridge, grabbing a beer, his movements slow as the tension of the moment begins to fade.

The adrenaline from saving the kid's life is still coursing through me, but as it starts to wear off, I feel the exhaustion creeping in. My body feels heavy, every muscle aching from the rush of everything that's just happened.

Everest notices, his hand gently lifting my chin, his touch tender. "Come on, let's go to bed," he whispers, his voice soft but firm, guiding me toward the stairs. He leans down, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to my lips before we make our way upstairs.

The weight of everything—of the night, the panic, the fear, the adrenaline—finally settles in as we head up to the bedroom.