Page 52 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

Ruger's bike skids to a stop in the parking lot. He's screaming into his cell phone, only hanging up when he's halfway inside our spot.

"Nobody shot yet. Good."

Deacon glares at him. "Yet."

"Hey," I intervene. "Nobody needs to get shot. Period. We didn't want to make any accusations without any evidence but... there came to be some suspicious circumstances which led Wyatt to believe you were hiding something from the club."

"Accusations? From who?" Deacon looks angry enough to swing an axe at someone's head. Ruger pats him on the back in an effort to calm him down. I have never in my life seen fatherhood so thoroughly change someone the way Ruger's baby changed him...

"It doesn't matter," Wyatt says, his tone softening. "If there is some secret, I need to know it. Tell the truth and I'll send everyone we have to get your girl back."

"She's not my girl," Deacon says. "She's my old lady. And she's pregnant."

Juliette gasps. "You're not gay!?"

Deacon glares at her. "Hawk..." he warns.

I give Juliette a gentle pinch on her arm, hoping that serves as sufficient warning for her crazy ass to tread carefully.

"Pregnant?" Wyatt asks. "How far along?"

"Twenty-six weeks. The longer she's out there..."

"Your secret, Rage."

"My secret isthat I paid Oske to find women for me. In the past. Before her. I made the mistake of thinking I was entitled to a private life in this goddamn club."

"Hookers?!" Juliette squawks, unable to hide her enthusiasm for getting to witness these revelations first hand. Deacon is far too concerned with his own humiliation to concern himself with Juliette's reactions anymore.

"That's it?" Wyatt asks.

"Yes."

"Fuck,"Wyatt growls. "Fuck. We need to find Oske."

"Why?" Deacon asks. "I haven’t been able to get a hold of her. I don’t think she would run off with Keyshawn. Oske cares about her paycheck.”

"Keyshawn?!"Juliette squeaks. "You got a black woman preg--"

I cup my hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. She glares at me and starts licking my palm until I drop my hand away and wipe it off on her. I've told her not to do that about seventeen times in the past.

"Oske acts first and thinks later," Wyatt says. "This could be some kind of miscommunication."

"Oske didn't kidnap Keyshawn. Trust me, I've had to throw that woman over my shoulder and it's not easy. She's too small."

"If she had help, we have an even bigger problem on our hands," Wyatt says. "Fuck. Let's get the bikes."

"Can I drive, baby?" Juliette asks.

I cup her ass before leaning over and growling in her ear, "No fucking way. Now stop causing a scene before I take you home and get you pregnant too."

"I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Sinclair."

"Hm. We may have to change that," I whisper, kissing her on her neck and walking outside with my old lady, wondering how the hell she still finds herself at the center of trouble, even now...

Chapter Thirty

Keyshawn

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