Page 105 of Choices

“No. God, no, of course not. That’s not what I meant.” He fumbles over his words, his head rocking back and forth. “I hate seeing those marks on you. It should have been his hand.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“But you’re okay?”

“I am.” I hold up my bottle to clink with his.

“The kid is missing out on these cupcakes.” He grins, stuffing the entire thing in his mouth.

“I didn’t want to part with any anyway, so you owe me one,” I say, only half joking.

“Looks like Pres is going to make a speech.” He sweeps his gaze over the crowd gathering then stands and offers me his hand.

Pulling me to my feet, I groan. Chris disappears into the throng of brothers. Kids squeal, splashing in the pool, and Grease stays by the grill, manning the meat, so it can’t be anything important. I attempt to slip away when Cutter’s scent wraps around me as he closes in behind me, whispering, “You’re driving me crazy in those tiny shorts.”

Warmth fills all the cracks inside me, and I suck at the air to regain the breath he stole. “Maybe I should take them off,” I tease without turning to face him, pretending to focus on my dad.

Cutter’s guttural moan tightens my core. “I’m going to rip them off you later,” he promises, skimming past me, lingering his hand across my ass before heading toward Claire. With Rocco balanced on her hip, she throws daggers at both of us over his shoulder.

“It’s good to see all our families here at the club and the next generation of Kings growing up fast. It hasn’t been an easy year. We’ve lost brothers, but we’ve also gained brothers. The Kings are stronger than ever, and there’s a lot to look forward to and celebrate today. Cheers to us.” Hoots ring out, and bottles clink, then Claire’s voice flips my stomach, sending an icy hand scraping down my spine.

“While everyone is gathered, Cutter and I have some news.”Is she going to announce their split right now in front of Rocco?

Placing the kid down, she takes his hand, then slides her other into Cutter’s. My heart flops around in my chest like a dying fish, and my mouth goes bone dry.

The world narrows and spins as her lips move, announcing, “We’re pregnant!”

Voices blur and distort, nothing making sense. Pressure builds in my head and chest, weighing me down, filling my legs with concrete.Am I breathing?Opening my mouth, I gasp for air and stumble backward. Fire ignites in the corners of my eyes.Did he know?I can’t be here. Her smug face seeks me out.

No. You’re not going to see the damage you just caused me.

Turning, I will my legs not to fail me and start walking away.

My heart bursts in my chest. I choke on the blood, my airways clogging. As soon as I’m far enough away not to be seen, I begin to jog then outright sprint until my lungs catch fire and my limbs turn to ash. I find myself heaving against the wall of the outhouse at the far end of the club. Vomit chases up my gullet and spills to the floor.

This isn’t happening.Battling my thoughts, I try to calm myself.She’s lying to get him to stay, I rationalize.Or he knew and wanted one last time with me.He wouldn’t be this cruel. As I think the words, a torrent of memories shoot into me like bullets from a machine gun. Him telling me he fucked her and knocked her up then the marriage announcement.I’m such an idiot.

My cloud nine turns gray, and I plummet straight through it, hitting the concrete with a thud.

The sudden sound of a door opening startles me, then Monster’s back comes into view, waltzing away from the outhouse. Willing my breath to steady, I look at the buildingand frown. I’ve never really thought about this place or what it’s used for. From birth, it’s drummed into biker brats not to ask questions or pry, and I sure as shit know you don’t get answers when you do ask questions.

The memory of seeing him and Rogue out here sparks in my mind and curiosity gets the better of me. Waiting for Monster to disappear into the main clubhouse, I step around to the entryway, taking in the keylock on the door. There’s one code for all the doors in the main clubhouse apart from where they keep merchandise. It probably won’t work, but I punch in the code anyway, letting out a surprised exhale when it beeps and unlocks. They must not keep valuables in here. It’s probably Monster’s room. He needs a place to himself just to contain that thing in his pants. I hope he doesn’t come back and think I came looking for the pleasure or comfort he offered the other night. Pulling the door wide, I slip inside.

Whatever this place is, it’s nothing good.

The air is warm and sticky, clinging to my skin like glue. Bare concrete walls make up a narrow passageway with three doors. Hairs rise over my flesh in awareness when a muffled sound reaches my ears.Someone is in here.

Taking slow and cautious steps, I inch farther inside, opening the first door. It leads into an empty storage space. Moving to the next, I hold my breath. It smells in this hall, reminding me of dirty water left to ferment. Shivers chase up my spine, sprinkling tiny bumps across my arms. The thundering of my own heartbeat pounds loud in my ears. Creaking the door open, I brace myself against the frame. The slightly sloping floor makes me uneasy as my eyes gravitate to the drain in the center before slowly shifting up toward a man tied to a metal table above it.

Shit.

I know our club has responsibilities and business to take care of. Hell, I’ve witnessed enough of it firsthand. This man will no doubt never leave this room still breathing.

He fights against his restraints when he sees me, but it’s futile. He’s not going anywhere. I wonder who he is and what he’s done to deserve the wrath of the Kings. It must be something extra awful to warrant Monster’s dark hand. Stifled words die against the rag in his mouth. And despite my better judgement telling me to leave and never return, I edge inside until I’m standing over him.

Flawed, ruddy skin stretched over crooked features and small gray eyes make up the face of the stranger staring at me with a calm reserve in contrast to the thrashing from moments before.

“What was your sin?” I ponder. He attempts to shake his head, but there’s a strap across his forehead, pinning it in place. I imagine myself lying here helpless and then replace me with Claire. A shiver runs through me as my skin tugs tight against my bones. An incessant pulse drills into the sides of my head, leaving behind a harsh and unrelenting ache.

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