Page 38 of Spike's Perdition
My mind swirls with the information Aubrey hurled at me as saliva pools in my mouth, and my stomach somersaults. I bend over, hands on my knees, as I lose my lunch.
“Gross,” Aubrey says as she steps back. “Spike’s not gonna want to raise your bastard when he hasourbaby to take care of.” She eyes my stomach. “I’d keepthatlittle secret to yourself, Ivory. You don’t have the backbone for the biker lifestyle.”
I wipe my mouth off. “I have no intention of telling Spike about this baby,” I vow. “I don’t want anything else to do with him, I promise.”
She spins on her heel, leaving without another word.
I knew he was a no-good lying piece of shit. That mother fucker better hope I never see him again, or I’ll rip his dick off myself.
CHAPTER 14
SPIKE
“There you are.”
I kick my leg over the seat of my Harley and turn to face Glitter. Stifling my groan, I start toward the elevator.
“Here I am.”
“We need to talk, Spike,” she blurts, trying to keep up with me.
“‘Bout what?”
She hesitates and wrings her hands while we wait for the elevator to arrive at the above-ground clubhouse garage. “Um… maybe we can talk in private?”
I glance around the large space. “We’re alone, Glitter. Doesn’t get much more private than that.”
“Call me Aubrey.”
Immediately, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. No way a bunny wants to be called by their real name unless they want something they know a biker isn’t willing to give easily.
“Why would I do that?”
The elevator door slides open, and we both step inside. Neither of us talk as we descend to the common room, and it’s her who finally breaks the silence.
“Please, Spike,” she pleads. “I need to talk to you.”
I take a deep breath. “Fine,” I say, making my way to one of the tables in the corner and knowing she’ll follow. “What is it?” I ask when we’re both seated.
“I’m…” More hand wringing. “I’m pregnant.”
Not what I was expecting.
“And you’re telling me beca?—”
“You’re the father,” she blurts.
“Bullshit,” I bark. “You’re a fucking club bunny, Glitter. Mine is hardly the only cock you’ve ridden.”
She frantically shakes her head as she reaches into her purse and pulls out what appear to be several pictures. Glitter thrusts them at me. “See,” she says, pointing to the first picture. “There’s a picture of the sonogram. It’s your baby, Spike.”
No, no, no!
I glare at the image, silently willing it to burst into flames. “Doesn’t prove it’s mine.”
“I haven’t slept with anyone since you,” she insists.
Thinking back over the last several weeks, I try to conjure up a memory of her slinking off with one of my brothers, but I come up empty.
