Page 47 of One Night with the Biker

“The next time he’ll kill us.”

I jumped to my feet. “Simple,” I said with a stomp of my foot to emphasize my point. “Don’t tell him that our friendship is over.”

“He asked me about you after our argument at your place, Ains. I swear I was respecting your wishes, then he wanted to know why you hadn’t been around and why I wasn’t at the house helping you with Roman.”

Reese snatched a set of keys from his nightstand. “Come on. I’ll escort you to the clubhouse so you can drop her off.”

We both looked at him.

“We have to leave. Razor will arrive soon.”

“Razor?” I asked.

“My president,” Reese answered. “I don’t feel like explaining why you two are here. No, fuck. I couldn’t explain it, so don’t fucking argue. Get your shit and let’s roll out.”

I didn’t want to meet his president either. Everything was in such an upheaval, I still didn’t know who knew my actual identity. Roman was somewhere, though I didn’t know his exactlocation. Besides, if I got into trouble, it wasn’t as if he could hop on his bike and ride to me.

“Whatever,” I spat and stormed past that motherfucker and that bitch AKA my baby daddy and my former friend.

Near the Scorpions’ clubhouse, Ainsley waved at me to pull over and blew her horn when I ignored her and blazed on by. She was out of her fucking mind if she believed I’d trust her with Nova.

I couldn’t react upon hearing Boom Boom beat Ainsley. I wasn’t well acquainted with the latest crop of prospects. We opened our ranks every two years. Sooner if motherfuckers wiped out, turned in their patch, went to prison, or got out bad. Razor firmly believed the more members, the more money, but last time we had prospects, three of them decided against joining within six months.

The dude who came after Nova could report every fucking thing to Razor. I didn’t know if he feared Prez or respected him. Either way, it boded ill for me.

When Ainsley stopped her car at the gate, I gunned to the dead end and circled back, slowing my ride to make sure she hadn’t turned in. Nova was just opening the passenger side door and getting her bitchy ass out of Ainsley’s car. Satisfied, I road to the intersection and idled my bike until she paused her car beside me.

She rolled down her window and flicked on the light. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Obviously. It was insane to be in enemy territory and alone with only my holstered guns, my knives in my boots, and my questionable wits. “It’s dark, Ainsley.” I couldn’t admit the truth and panic her any more than she already sounded. “They can’t see my cut.”

“Reese—”

“Let’s get the fuck away from the clubhouse,” I told her. She looked ready to chastise me for the next hour. “I’ll escort you home.”

“Reese—”

Ignoring her, I rode off. I took care with my speed. I didn’t trust Ainsley not to put the pedal to the metal to keep up with me. City driving was so fucking different than the open road with nothing but the wind in my hair and miles of freedom ahead of me.

Once or twice, she tried to swerve around me, but I sped up and jumped ahead of her. If she kept that shit up, I’d spank her ass for endangering herself. And the baby.

Fuck. The baby. My baby. I was still trying to wrap my head around that news.

When we finally reached her neighborhood, I thought she was shitting me. It was a quiet tree-lined street with nice housesin a well-kept area, fit for families with moms, dads, and two point five kids. Not bikers with blood on their hands. But itwaswhere she lived because she turned into the driveway of a charming home that blended a traditional style with modern touches. The exterior soft beige brick and light gray siding gave it a welcoming feel and brought me back to another time in my life, when I hadn’t been a biker but a regular kid with parents and siblings.

The memory of my little sister running around a neatly manicured front lawn with patches of green grass that stretched up to the porch like this one, swarmed me. A large oak tree stood off to one side, its branches spreading wide, dripping leaves in autumnal colors.

A neatly paved pathway led from the sidewalk to the front door, framed by a pair of symmetrical bushes, perfectly pruned and trimmed. Near the porch, my little sister would’ve loved the wood and iron bench sitting under the tree.

Ainsley killed the engine and exited her car. Outdoor lights illuminated her, the paved driveway that led to a two-car garage and the pathway to the front door. Right before I turned in behind her, she ran into the middle of the fucking street, forcing me past her, so I wouldn’t run her over. Apparently, that’s what she wanted because she hurried to the curb, three houses down.

“Roman has cameras,” she said frantically. “He hasn’t asked me about my comings and goings. Either he’s too busy to check footage or he hasn’t seen anything alarming.”

“Let’s go to your apartment.”

“I don’t have it anymore. I moved back home to take care of my brother.”

I released a frustrated sigh.

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