Page 13 of Biker's Enemy

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Page 13 of Biker's Enemy

“I guess. But I’m telling you, Aunt Deb. I would know the mama. I would remember.”

“Right. Well, Tanner. When you get over here, you had better get yourself a nanny. Someone you can trust. I watched Wyatt handle Junior on his own and it isn’t as easy as you think.”

I never thought it was easy.

“I’ll hire someone.”

“Call June if you need help finding someone.”

“I don’t need help. I can get a nanny for my kid. Nothing to worry about.”

I get off the phone with my aunt, but I can’t stay in bed anymore. Not with Quin and the baby on my mind. Avery. Now who told Aunt Deb the baby needs a name now, huh? I thought we could get around to that when we actually had answers.

Seven

QUIN

Logically, I know I can get out of bed. I don’t have to be here all morning, even if breakfast is finished. Old habits die hard. I make myself get up after forty minutes of staring at the ceiling.

Juliette and Hunter seem normal this morning, but I can’t finish the eggs and toast Juliette cooks because watching her squirt ketchup all over her breakfast reminds me of Eugene and what he looked like lying there all mangled at the foot of the stairs.

I don’t want to be gross, so I just pick at my food and pretend that I have a low appetite for a normal reason — not visions of dead people I can’t get out of my head.

“Will you be okay on your own this morning?” Juliette asks. “We have to go to my OB this morning.”

“The OB?” I know that’s the doctor responsible for her baby and all of that, “Surprise,” Juliette says with a smile. “I’m pregnant again.”

“What?!”

“I know, and it might be twins,” Juliette says. “I don’t want to get over excited too soon and curse it or something.”

I nod with understanding. It must be pretty early, so I can get why she didn’t immediately announce it. I run over to my best friend and give her a congratulatory hug. Early or not, a pregnancy with twins is worth celebrating. Juliette hugs me back.

Holy shit. Mackenzie still seems like a new idea to me. When I met Juliette, I didn’t think she would meet the love of her life and become a mother in such a short space of time. She seems crazy about Hunter, but I’m definitely surprised to hear her talking about more babies. Wow.

Life happens so quickly sometimes…

“I’ll be fine on my own,” I respond. “I’m not fragile or anything. I can hang out and wait...”

I’m desperate to look like I’m handling things. Juliette hands Mackenzie over to her dad and then wraps me up in a big hug.

“We’ll be back before noon and we’ll bring poke bowls, okay? Trust me, everything will be fine and you will get through this Quin.”

Unless the cops show up. Unless I have to go to prison. Unless someone reports Eugene missing. I offer her a thin-lipped smile and try not to let every last one of my anxieties spill out.

I appreciate Juliette’s support, but she has no idea what it’s like to go through something like this alone. The second she left Kansas, she ran into a man like Hunter Sinclair — one willing to do anything to protect her. All the men I’ve known have either been entirely disinterested in me, like my adoptive father or terrifying, like Eugene.

That just means I have to take care of myself, but considering I spent the past several months as my brother’s prisoner… I don’t even know what that looks like. I feel scared. Embarrassed. Like he stole life from me that I don’t even know how to get back. Juliette thinks I just need time to get through the shock and the trauma.

“Nothing will happen to you in Santa Fe… I promise…”

Juliette is one of those people who just automatically makes you feel better. She has a handle of her shit. She seems like she always did. It’s how she ended up with a husband and a baby so quickly and I don’t even know if I’ll be able to keep my ass out of prison.

Unlike my high school days or those trade classes I took for a brief time before my parents died, I don’t have any structure or anything motivating me to get started with my day so it took me forty-five minutes to throw on a red Kansas City Chiefs hoodie and a pair of black leggings with wide ankles after my shower. I hate how skinny leggings squeeze my thighs and force them into these uncomfortable shapes.

Then again, I’ve had a lot of time to hate shit while locked in my room. I even started a troll account to go after Jojo Siwa but eventually got a hold of myself and deleted it when they actually replied. My mind did not respond well to captivity.

But now that I’m free… I don’t even know who I am.




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