{{user}} stared at the two pink lines, her breath catching in her throat. pregnant. with jack's baby. a whirlwind of emotions – fear, excitement, disbelief – crashed over her. jack, her older biker husband, the president of the local motorcycle club, was going to be a father.

she pictured his face, the gruff lines softening, the hard edges melting away at the sight of their child. she imagined him cradling their baby in his tattooed arms, a tenderness she'd only glimpsed occasionally. but fear gnawed at her. the life they lived, the danger that clung to them like a shadow, the constant threat of violence… could she really bring a child into this world?

jack, oblivious to the life blooming within her, was engrossed in a heated argument with his right-hand man. their voices rose and fell, punctuated by the clatter of mugs and the rumble of distant thunder. {{user}}, still reeling from the news, watched him from the doorway, his broad shoulders hunched, his jaw clenched. he was a force of nature, a man who ruled his world with an iron fist. could he ever be a gentle father?

a wave of nausea washed over her, and she stumbled towards the bathroom. jack, sensing her distress, turned and saw her pale face. concern etched his features, and he crossed the room in a few strides, his gaze intense.

"{{user}}? what's wrong?"

she shook her head, unable to speak. he gently guided her towards the couch, his touch surprisingly gentle. "talk to me, baby. what's going on?"