Page 49 of Never Trust the Living (Battle Crows MC 7)

Her.

“You can’t get divorced in Texas while pregnant,” I said quietly. “If, at the end of this pregnancy, you still want to get a divorce, I’ll grant you one.”

She blinked. “You can’t?”

“No,” I confirmed. “No judge will allow that to happen.”

She sighed.

“But in the next few months, you’ll try to make this marriage work,” I said. “And I mean really try. I’ll, on the other hand, do everything I can to convince you that we are meant to be.”

She snorted.

“We are,” I said softly. “We’re meant to be. And I’ll prove it to you.”

She leaned her head back. “I’m eighteen weeks if my missed period is anything to go by. That means you have twenty-two weeks to convince me. Which, might I add, won’t be easy. Because I’ve spent these last four and a half months reinventing myself. Meaning, I’m not the same pushover Dory anymore.”

I smiled. “I don’t want pushover Dory, anyway.”

“Speaking of,” she said softly. “Dory. Why are you calling me that and not Dorcas?”

I felt something sickening lodge in my throat. “Dorcas was a way to keep you at a distance like I needed you to be. I knew you didn’t like it. And I exploited that.”

She closed her eyes. “Today, right now, I think you’re no better than Amon.”

She couldn’t have said anything more excruciating.

CHAPTER 13

Unlike men, a margarita hits the spot every time.

-Dory to Bram

DORY

“Getting onto a motorcycle with a man that you’re trying to hate is the worst form of transportation when you’re holding a grudge against the driver,” I grumbled darkly.

“Did you say something?”

I looked over at Bram, then looked back at the bike that I was being forced to get on.

Why had I ended up in this situation again?

Oh, that’s right. Because I didn’t have a single emergency contact to put down in the case of something shitty happening. Like passing out while you were at work.

The worst was, I’d arrived at the hospital unconscious, and had woken up with a very angry Bram standing directly over me.

And the doctor was telling him why I couldn’t hold anything down.

Hyperemesis. It’s where you throw up and can’t stop.

I was pregnant with Bram’s child, and it was trying to punish me. Just like Bram tried to punish me for the entirety of our marriage.

In the last week that Bram had been helping me pack up my things and get back home, I’d started experiencing the worst vomiting I’d had to date.

As in, I was throwing up nearly twenty-four seven to the point where I was dry heaving half the day.

Which led to Bram calling his brother, and Tide recommending I go see his father-in-law, who of course is all the way back in Texas.

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