Page 4 of Ky
Going into the only cubicle, I hurl whatever was left over in my stomach from the last time I did this earlier in the day into the toilet. Quickly flushing.
What the fuck is happening?
In an instant, my body goes rigid as the weight of the past six weeks hits me—my period has been absent, and a sense of unease settles in.
No! It couldn't be happening, could it?
Tears well in my eyes as I realize that yes, it very well could be, since we didn’t use protection on that night six weeks ago.
Shit, shit, shit.Angelo was going to kill me when he finds out. Literally. He already knows what happened between me and Ky when he was out of the country. But how? I thought I’d been so careful, making sure none of his men were around.
Once I was certain my stomach was truly empty, I stood, slowly making my way to the sink, careful not to touch anything. Turning on the faucet, I was lucky to at least find clean water, and I washed my face. Avoiding looking into the dirty mirror, I turn on my heel and head back out, crashing into a hard wall.
Tattooed hands grab hold of my arms to steady me. Those hands, oh how they knew exactly how to bring me to the peak of pleasure, etching their touch into my memory. Clearing my throat, I step back, needing to create some space between us.
I look at his face, noticing only slight wounds on his face from his fight, and the small amount of blood. He’s changed into a black T-shirt and jeans that mold to his hips and his long legs. On his feet are motorcycle boots. His long hair, which had been tied back for the fight, now hangs loose in damp strands around his face. I have the urge to touch his bearded face, but I squash that feeling down.
“Your husband is an asshole.” Ky says, bringing me out of my quiet perusal of him.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. If Angelo sees us together, it won’t bode well for either of us.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Angelo isn’t my…” But Ky doesn’t let me finish, cutting me off.
“Isn’t what?” he taunts. “Your boyfriend? Your lover, your husband?”
“Fuck you,” I spat.
“Been there, done that, baby. Not looking for a repeat. So tell me,” he growls, cornering me against the wall. “What was it like, slumming it?” My eyes go wide at the way he was looking at me with such distaste in his gaze.
“Excuse me?” I reply, feeling at a disadvantage since I wasn’t wearing my heels tonight and only reached his chest, jutting out my chin.
“You heard me. You and hubby must’ve had a good old laugh at my expense.”
Before I can think of the consequences, I lift my hand with the full intention of slapping his handsome face, but he grabs my wrist with his left hand, pulling me against him. I can feel every ridge and hard plane of his body. I’m shocked to even feel his hardness against my belly, since being near me is so distasteful to him and I whimper.
“Let me go,” I grit through my teeth, but instead of coming out in a commanding voice, as I had intended, my words escape with a tone of desperation.
“Such a touching reunion.” Angelo’s voice cuts in from somewhere behind Ky. My eyes finally focus, and I see him descend towards us, his gun in one hand, trained on us, and his other hand around my best friend's upper arm, the look on Amelia’s face telling me he was hurting her. Standing next to him, a look of shock on her pretty face.
I shake my head. Surely, she couldn’t be surprised Angelo would do such a thing? She’s spent a heap of time in his company, I guess he hadn’t shown her his true face. Involuntarily, I grab Ky’s arm, trying to pull him back. I look at his face, and instead of the fear I see in people’s faces whenthey’re facing off with Angelo, I see nonchalance. What? The? Hell?
“Well, if it isn’t the great Angelo Bianchi,” Ky sneers.
“If it isn’t the criminal biker, a member of the Devil’s Carnage MC.” Angelo replies in a caustic drawl.
My eyes widen at that. I really took a walk on the wild side when I took him back to my place that night.
Ky chuckles without humor. “I see you’ve done your homework.”
“A man in my position always does his homework. Now take your filthy fucking hands off my property.”
Ky narrows his eyes at my stepbrother, not moving an inch from me. It’s then that I notice Angelo’s goons flanking him, both their guns trained in our direction.
“Your property?”
Angelo looks in my direction, an unmistakable look of disgust on his face.
“I was really hoping my fighter would finish the job for me tonight. But it looks like it’s up to me to clean up your messes. Seraphina, come here,” He commands.