Page 35 of Stealing the Biker

“So what? You didn’t want to kiss me? None of it was real?”

“That’s the problem. It was too damn real. And now I’ve hurt two people I care about. The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

“Then why are you? You won’t look at me. You won’t talk to me. Is there something wrong with me? My father never wanted me. No one ever chooses me.” The tears break free, and I don’t want him to see me cry. I dash to my room and slam the door shut. I collapse on the center of my bed and bury my face in my pillow.

There’s a gentle knock at my door. “Kiesha,” he croaks my name, sounding defeated.

“Go away. Maybe if you do, my father will come and put me out of my misery.”

The door swings open. Jimmy’s tortured gaze meets mine. “Don’t say shit like that. Don’t ever wish for something like that. You hear me?”

I look away from him. “Everyone’s life would be better if I didn’t exist. Mom wouldn’t have to worry about me. You wouldn’t have to watch over me. My father could go back to pretending I was never born.”

“My life wouldn’t be better without you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I can’t look at you because when I do, all I want is to kiss you.”

“Why is that wrong?”

“Because I’m with Sabrina. Because you’re in high school. Because your uncle will kill me. I can give you a million reasons, Kiesha.”

“What about what I want? Doesn’t my feelings matter?”

“That’s why I’ve got to put space between us. I’m only going to hurt you.”

“Too late for that. You’re breaking my heart.”

“I can’t protect you like this.”

“Then don’t. You’re free to go. I’m eighteen. Technically, I’m an adult. I don’t need you to babysit me. But that’s right. You’re scared the club will reject you.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Lash out at me because you’re pissed.”

“Get out of my room.”

“I don’t want things to be like this between us.”

“If you were with me, it’d be so easy. I’d never ask you to choose.”

He rubs the back of his neck. His mouth opens but snaps shut at the sound of car doors closing.

“Better run and see who it is. Maybe it’s your girlfriend.”

“Don’t be a brat,” he says softly and leaves.

A second later, I overhear my mom asking where I am and Jimmy telling her I’m in my room. He reappears at my door. “Your mom is home and there’s someone she wants you to meet.”

“Tell her I’ll be there in a minute.” I sniffle and wipe the dampness from around my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt.

In the living room, there’s a little girl sitting on the couch. Oh my God. My little sister. Mom was right. She looks like someone took one of my baby pictures and cloned me.

Mom motions me into the kitchen before I get to say hello. Jimmy is crouched to her level, squatting in front of her, asking her who her favorite princess is.

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