Page 42 of Taming the Demon

“Fuck that,” Mara spat.

“We gave him the proof,” Darrow said. “He got his pregnancy test. He got the doctor’s files. What the fuck…”

“It’s convenient, Darrow,” Slade said.

They don’t believe us,Mara thought to herself.

She started to think quick. She knew the easier lie, waiting at the tip of her tongue. Plenty of reason why she wasn’t pregnant anymore. But what would happen to her then? Cyrus was dead drunk, holding a gun.

“Slade,” Darrow said.

“With all due respect here, I didn’t cause this. You two together is a bad idea. It’s wrong for the club. Mara being pregnant just makes this messier.”

“Fine,” Mara said. “Then just act like I’m not pregnant. I’m not showing anyway. I mean, at least not yet. What does he want? He wants me dead? That bad? For what?”

“I’m trying to hold this fucking club together right now,” Slade growled through gritted teeth.

“You’re the one that brought the goddamn Russian mafia down on us,” Darrow said without thinking first.

Slade threw a punch, hitting Darrow in the face, opening a mostly healed cut that came from one of the punches by Linc. Darrow went after Slade. Mara got in the middle. She was instantly knocked to the dirty, sticky floor of the clubhouse. She landed on her elbow and a tingling, stinging pain shot up her arm. Without realizing it at first, she started to scream. Not a girlie scream. Not a crying scream. A feral scream. The kind of scream only a woman could make.

It felt like something snapped in Mara’s head as she hurried back to her feet. She slapped Darrow across the face. She turned and slapped Slade across the face with her other hand.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Nelle screamed from the bar, ready to fight Mara and defend her man’s honor.

Slade quickly ran to Nelle to keep the situation from getting worse. Darrow didn’t act quick enough and Mara was already on the move, charging toward Cyrus.

If she slaps Prez…, Darrow thought.

Mara didn’t slap Cyrus across the face. Instead, she walked up to him, eyeing the gun, trying her hardest not to piss herself because she was terrified of guns. Especially drunk outlaws with guns.

“Where’s the fucking pregnancy test, huh?” Mara asked Cyrus.

She hoped to be calling his bluff. Cyrus reached back again and this time pulled out a pregnancy test.

“Stole one from the hospital,” Cyrus said.

Mara felt her heart collapse into her stomach.

Her fate… officially sealed.

Mara sat on the surprisingly clean toilet in Cyrus’s private quarters of the clubhouse. Cyrus stood with his back to her. She stared at the massive skull andSOFRAWname on the back patch on his leather cut.

“Need me to turn around too?” Darrow asked.

He was pissed. Livid. He knew when the test came back negative shit was going to hit the fan for good. Hell, for all Darrow figured, he was down to his last few minutes of life. If anything, Cyrus would call a prayer for a vote onDr. Smile. Then again, Cyrus was so drunk, he’d probably just kill Darrow and Mara right on the spot.

“I’m trying to go here,” Mara said. “Not that easy with an audience.”

“Figure it out,” Cyrus said, his words heavily slurred.

Darrow stepped forward and crouched down. Mara felt in a very interesting position right now. Sitting on the toilet, waiting to go pee. Holding a pregnancy test in her left hand. Knowing Darrow could just look forward and see between her legs. Not that it mattered. His fucking tongue was like a magnet to her pussy as it was.

She had a wild image of Darrow knocking Cyrus out and then she and Darrow take off, running for their lives and running for forever…

“I’ll get a picture and try to do something with it,” Darrow whispered to Mara very carefully.

Mara shook her head. Darrow touched her knees and her body loosened up. She felt moisture between her legs. Her face burned red hot. She really didn’t want Cyrus to…smell her…

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