“If he can make them enough money, they will. Sure, some of the old guard will stay true to Texas, but the thing about one-percenters is that they’re in it to get rich and live free. Texas isn’t stupid and knows how to ride the edge of what the law will allow. He keeps his club reined in, and a lot of the members don’t much care for being told what they can and can’t do.”
“Shit,” Havoc replied. “The Serpents are bad enough now. I’d hate to see what someone like Buzz could turn them into.”
Link frowned, scratching at his beard as he stared into the fire. “You and me both, brother. We’re gonna need to keep an eye on things. See if we can’t find a way to help Texas keep control.”
Naomi
Present Day
IWAS SITTING on my sofa, poring over my new commission paperwork when Monica rushed through my front door with a drug store bag in hand. The girl hadn’t even knocked, but then again, she never did. Friends like Monica didn’t really understand things like boundaries, closed doors, or personal space.
Which pretty much summed up why she was here today.
“I got it,” she announced, holding the bag out in front of her. “Well, actually, I got three. We’re gonna know for sure, once and for all.”
I didn’t want to know at all. At least, not yet. Not until I had no other choice but to admit it. Ignorance was a boundary I’d built to protect myself but like all my other boundaries, Monica was determined to trample it. Good friend that she was, she refused to rest until all my defenses were nothing more than a pile of rubble. My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe. Trying to remain calm while my insides churned, I turned another page, pretending to read. “I’ve been thinking about it, and we should probably hold off for a little while.”
Monica’s expression fell. “Hold off? You’re talkin’ crazy right now. Why the hell would we hold off?”
“I feel fine now, so it was probably just the flu that’s been going around.”
She propped her free hand on her hip and stared me down. “What flu? There’s no flu going around, Nae.”
And yet, I’d stopped our past three morning runs so I could heave my guts up on the side of the road. Monica was worried that my new daily ritual could be morning sickness. I hadn’t touched alcohol since my brother’s wedding because deep down I knew she was right. I also hadn’t admitted the other signs she didn’t know about, like the tenderness in my breasts, the mood swings, and weird late-night cravings for things like pickled beets with cream cheese and black olives stuffed with peanut butter. Either I was pregnant or crazy.
“You don’t know that,” I fired back, unwilling to go down without a fight.
She cocked her head to the side and studied me. “You have lost your mind if you think I’m gonna walk out that door and pretend like this isn’t happening. Do I really need to call the hospital and ask if the flu’s going around before you pee on these tests?”
I thought about it. Calling around to the hospitals couldn’t hurt.
She shook the bag. “Take the damn tests, Nae.”
It had been a lot easier to avoid this problem before Monica had returned from her latest deployment. If she knew how many mornings in a row I’d spent hovered over the toilet, she’d be far more insistent. Which was terrifying, considering the angry-eyed glare she was giving me now. Huffing out a breath, trying to pretend I was annoyed rather than worried, I set the paperwork down on the coffee table and stood.
“This is silly.” It was a last-ditch effort, but I had to try. “It hasn’t even been long enough. The tests probably aren’t even accurate.”
“It’s been months since you last went home. Unless you’re shacking up with someone local and not telling me about it—which would be terms for murder by the way—your placenta has had plenty of time to produce hCG which is what these little tests measure.”
“Assuming I have a placenta,” I replied.
She thrust the bag into my hand. “You’re stalling.”
Damn right I was stalling. Peeing on a few sticks seemed all nice and easy until you considered the consequences. “Best out of three, huh? What happens if the results are mixed?” I asked.
“Still stalling.”
I wanted to argue, but she wasn’t wrong, and there was no way she was going to let me get out of this. Even if she did, I’d have to take the tests eventually. Might as well get it over with. I carried the bag into the bathroom, pulled out the three tests, and read the instructions for each. Pee on sticks, wait between three to five minutes, then booyah, I’d find out if I was pregnant. How could something so simple have the potential to complicate the hell out of my life?
“You okay in there?” Monica asked, tapping on the bathroom door.
The woman was relentless. “Almost done. Quit hovering.”
“I’m not hovering, I’m providing emotional support and motivation for you to stop being such a little bitch and pee on the damn sticks.”
Right. Sure. Bossy, pain-in-my-ass support was more like it. I was being kind of a little bitch, though. Stalling wasn’t normally my MO, but I’d sure taken my sweet time with this. It had been nine weeks since Link’s wedding. By now, assuming I was pregnant, the baby would be the size of a cherry, and was now classified as a fetus rather than an embryo. Yeah, I’d done my research. Being in denial didn’t keep me from wanting to know what was happening inside my body.
Monica tapped on the door again. “I don’t hear any peeing going on in there.”
