Rogue’s Retribution by Liberty Parker





Oh. My. God! Your child is as stubborn as you are!” I scream out in agony from the pains of labor. “She doesn’t want to come into this world, she’s happy right where she is. Can’t we let her stay snuggled there for just a bit longer?” I ask, exhaustion laced thick in my voice to the stand-in doctor currently down between my legs. Conveniently, my doctor happens to be on his bi-monthly vacation getaway. He’s as useless as the grin on his face. “I’m not entirely sure what’s so funny,” I begin before the pain yet again slams over my body like an angry wave crashing to the shore. “Rogue!” I cast my glare to him as I grab him by the stitched leather on his cut. “Do something, please!”

“You’re doing great, Aurora,” the doctor tells me, causing me to shift my gaze back in his direction as I let go of Rogue’s cut. I want to kick my foot up and have it accidentally smash into his face. He calls this great? I’ve been doing this for hours, and I can feel my body beginning to grow tired and slowly fall apart as my eyes begin to grow heavy.

“You’ve got this darlin’,” my old man, Rogue, whispers in my ear for some encouragement, jolting me back to this harsh reality and the excruciating pain I’m in. “You’re the bravest person I know, if anyone can do this, it’s you. You aren’t now, and never have been, a quitter. Don’t give up on our baby, bring her into the world. Together, we’ve got this.”

“We? I don’t see you pushing this kid into the world, now do I? And after this one? Oh, you can bet your sweet ass you’ll never fucking hold my hand without wearing a condom!” I holler out at him as another contraction hits me. I notice him out of my peripheral scoot a few inches away and my heart sinks. Christ, who the fuck am I? I grab his hand and squeeze with what energy I have left. “I-I didn’t mean it. Don’t go anywhere.” Suddenly, I’m struck with the ferocity of such pain that I instinctively throw myself forward and have a desperate need to push. “Never. Mind. You. Fucking. Ass!” I grunt and grind out each word as I yank my hand away from his.

“Baby’s crowning,” the doctor states calmly. “Just a few more pushes, Aurora, and we’ll be bringing your baby into this world.” We have no solid proof it’s a girl, I just have this deep-seated feeling that she is in fact a female and have proclaimed that’s how everyone will refer to our child unless I’m proved wrong. Well, I never could get the doctor officially on board unless I agreed to let him disclose the gender from one of my ultrasounds. As much as I know I’m having a daughter, I refused to let any machine challenge me. I’m right, and I will prove it when she’s safe in my arms.

As always, my old man does everything he can to give me my way and has abided by my wishes. We even have a name picked out for her, it’s beautiful and sassy, just as I know she will be with all the rough and gruff uncles she’ll grow up with. Not to mention my husband, my old man, the love of my life who is also the president of the Twisted Iron Motorcycle Club. He’s not an easy man to love, but he’s mine, and I’ve learned how to deal with his mannerisms or sometimes lack thereof. He has mood swings to rival any woman in the throes of Mother Nature, and apparently labor doesn't faze him in the least.

“Come on, Rora, just a few more pushes,” he attempts to console me. I really wish everyone would stop saying that to me, since I’m the one in pain and having to do all of the heavy lifting, or pushing in this case.

“Bite your tongue, Rogue!” Clamping his lips firmly closed, he obliges my command, lifting me up to get me prepared for another push.

“Now, Aurora, give me one huge push. Bear down. That’s it, I see the baby’s head!” This gives me the motivation I need to finish this once and for all. I push several more times, not really hearing the conversation going on around me as I concentrate on my body, and what it’s telling me I need to do. I hear, “The shoulders are out.” The next thing I know, I feel my baby slide out and have instantaneous relief. “It’s a girl!” the doctor shouts out. I don’t say anything as I feel the tears slide seamlessly down my cheeks. I knew who she was before anyone else, but I see Rogue stumble back in utter shock. He really should learn to trust in me and my instincts. I told him this baby I carried was a girl. The doctor does what he needs to do with me while my eyes never stray from my baby girl and what the nurses are doing with her.

“A girl,” I hear Rogue mumble, “what the hell am I supposed to do with a daughter?” I know he’s speaking to himself and not me, so I keep my mouth shut and open my arms as my baby is gently placed in them.

“Congratulations, Momma,” the nurse says, as she stands off to the side. Our daughter lets out a little muffled cry that is so cute, but catches Rogue’s attention.

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?” he asks me, a look of panic crosses his face as he’s clearly alarmed by something so tiny. This man has no problem dealing with and taking on dangerous and life-threatening situations daily, yet the mere cry of his daughter seems to frighten him.

“She’s fine,” I tell him with a soothing tone in my voice, “she’s just clearing and stretching her lungs. Sounds strong and healthy to me.”

“She’s so small,” he states, running his finger over her pinkened cheeks. “I vow to protect you, always,” he whispers to our daughter, turning my heart to putty at his words. “You both are my entire world, Rora. I love you, baby,” he says, as he leans over me, laying a sweet kiss to my lips.

“Love you too, handsome,” I reply as I feel a smile emerge as his lips make contact with mine. Then our daughter makes another small whimpering sound that turns into downright wailing and anger. “Thinking she’s hungry,” I state, looking to the nurse to see if she thinks I’m correct in my assumption. The nurse helps me get situated and shows me how to breastfeed. She latches on and takes to it as if she’s been doing it for years instead of seconds. She feeds for roughly ten-minutes before she unlatches and I then lift her up to my shoulder and burp her. We then switch sides and the process begins again.


I know that my brothers are in the waiting room of the maternity ward awaiting information from me on the condition of Rora and our daughter, a damn daughter. What the fuck am I to do with a girl? I know nothing about raising a little girl. Hell, I know nothing about raising any child, but a girl? As in female? The palms of my hands make contact with my face and I can feel the tiny beads of sweat that have now formed. I pull out my extra bandana and wipe my face before placing it back in the pocket of my jeans. I was certain she’d somehow be wrong, but went along with what she kept calling ‘her mother’s intuition’. There was a fifty-fifty chance she’d be wrong, yet here I stand. The proud father of a baby daughter. This is gonna be all on Rora. I’ll be there and do my fatherly duties, but I ain’t playing no dress up or participating in no damn tea party. I can teach her all about fishing, riding a bike and shooting a gun. However, that girly shit just isn’t me, I know more about motorcycles and football than I do dolls and makeup.

Once they move Rora from the delivery room and into her own private room, I call for Sledge to come and sit with my new family. My entire world now consists of two tiny females. My heart hammers against the walls inside my chest as I take another look at them, both resting so peacefully. Once Sledge enters the room and I fill him in on the news, I hesitantly leave and go search out my brothers. I feel confident in her safety because the nurse promised not to leave her side until I could make my way back to her. Between Sledge and this nurse, I think they’re both in good hands. They’d better be because if one solitary thing happens to either one of them, there will be nothing but a shell of this place once I’m through with it and their families.

As I’m complaining about a girl mentally, I have an epiphany of sorts as I venture down the hall. She needs me. She will need me to guide her and protect her. I can spend time with her teaching her what I do know. I pray she isn’t so girly that she won’t accept any of the wisdom I offer, and will enjoy spending time with me as her old man.

A feeling of resolve settles over me and for the first time since it’s been official that I have a daughter, and I exhale deeply. I continue on my path of informing my brothers about my daughter’s birth and that Rora is doing well. Marx and Bane are the first ones to jump up when I enter the room. “It’s a girl!” I proudly declare, and there are a lot of cheers, whoops and hollers. We all thought Rora was full of shit when she pronounced it was a girl in her womb and wouldn’t let any of us refer to her as anything but.

“What’s her name?” Marx asks me.

“Rora wants to announce it to everyone all at once, follow me,” I instruct, as I turn and rush back to my girls. I don’t look back to see if they’re following at my back because I can hear the heavy-footed sound of boots as they connect with the tile flooring. They follow with an eager stride behind me. Not only because I’m their president, but because they’re my oldest and closest friends and not only respect me, but Rora as well.

When we make our way to the room, I knock once to let her know we’re coming in. I still peek my head in and notice that she’s holding our girl in her arms with her eyes alight with love. The sight of the two of them would bring a weaker man to his knees, but I have a group of men I lead standing in witness. There’s no room in my life for me to show any type of weakness. When you show what could chop you off at the knees, that gives someone something to hold over you and use against you. In this world, that isn’t anything you let others become aware of. Although, I’m sure my brothers with children are already painstakingly aware of this. It suddenly dawns on me; our daughter is the only girl born so far into the club. The rest of my brothers all have boys. I grimace briefly at the thought, before silently cursing up at a god I’m not sure I believe exists, but if he does, this is some sort of karmic lesson I’m certain.

“Hey, Rora, the guys would like to meet our girl. Are you up for visitors?” I ask her quietly, not wanting to stir our daughter as she rests peacefully.

“Yes! Bring them in and let them see our beautiful girl,” she eagerly replies, as her face lights up. I open the door wider and allow my group of misfits to follow me in.

“Wow! She’s gorgeous, you two are gonna have your hands full,” Bane states with wide eyes before he pans them toward me and I just shrug. “Don’t worry, brother, we’ve got your back and plenty of stock in ammo to help ward off any of the fella’s that come snooping where they don’t belong.” I nod my head in agreement before the harsh reality of his spoken words slam into me like a freight train.

Boys! Eventually, men! Oh, fuck no!

This conjures up thoughts of an entire new set of problems. Are chastity belts still made? Looking up, I rest my chin on my hand as I ponder what is still humane versus inhumane these days. I could put bars on her windows, and a lock on her door. I feel the upward pull on my lips as a grin takes formation. Now, that might be an idea worth looking into. I mentally picture some young punk attempting to make googly-eyes, or coming to the clubhouse to pick my girl up. Every one of us having our piece out, either lying on the table in front of us, or cleaning our weapon of choice. The mental vision of where my thoughts have taken me causes a chuckle.

“Let me guess,” Rora begins, “you just imagined running any boys off that even think of coming anywhere near our daughter?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I reply, as there’s certainly no shame in my thoughts.

“Figures,” she mutters, then turns to our daughter. “Your dad and uncles may be a little unstable at times, but they mean well,” she coos as she gently strokes the cheek of our girl.

“So, enough suspense already, what’s this little beauty’s name?” Streets asks us.

“Guys, I’d like you all to meet Harmony Aurora Price,” Rora announces, and all the guys get up closer to get a better look at our girl.

“She’s gonna be trouble,” Marx tells me. “You can see it in her eyes,” he jokes with me.

“That’s okay, she can be my little outlaw,” I respond, but the name Outlaw gets stuck in my head. Yes, I think she’ll most definitely be dubbed that name and wear it well. With Rora and myself as parents, she won’t stand a chance to be anything but rambunctious and a free spirit. I won’t encourage anything less.

“You leave our girl alone, Marx,” Rora states, wagging her finger at him.

He ducks his head like a scolded child before saying, “I don’t mean anything by it, Aurora, but she’s the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen, and that alone spells trouble with a capital ‘T’.” All the guys agree with him by grunting and Rora just smiles mischievously at me. See, even she knows we’re going to have our hands full with this one. She thinks that shit is funny. She likes to see me squirm which is why I work my hardest at not doing so in front of her.

“Don’t even start,” I warn her. “She’s an hour old and we’re already getting way too far ahead of ourselves. Fuck, I’m gonna have to take this one day at a time, ya know?”

“I’m not saying a word,” she replies, still smiling at me.

“Maybe not, but after all these years together, I can read your looks like an opened book. You’re already planning shopping trips, prom dresses, which usually consists of the opposite sex, might I remind you. Hell, you’ve probably already thought about helping plan her wedding.” The way she peeks up at me through her lashes tells me I’m correct. “I knew it!” I say, pointing my finger accusingly at her.

“Whatever, I’m tired, it’s time for you boys to say your goodbyes now,” she says, pointedly looking at me. I scowl at her but it causes her to smile brighter in my direction. I give up! There is no winning when it comes to my old lady, might as well just walk my men out and do as I’ve been requested to do...say goodbye.

Why is it I have a feeling these two ladies are going to gang up on me, walk all over me, and my commanded no will somehow always mean yes to them? I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time checking to make sure my dick and balls are still in place while juggling to keep the club balanced and in order. Why is it I can rule over my men with no one challenging me, but Rora has a way of undermining me, and making me change my mind without me realizing it? Damn woman has me wrapped around her finger, and I don’t even want to know what my daughter will be able to accomplish where it comes to me.