This is my life now. Being questioned by bitter club girls. Waiting for paternity test results. Wondering if the baby growing inside me belongs to a monster.
I press my hand to my stomach again. “It’s going to be okay,” I whisper to the tiny life inside me. “Whatever happens, we’re going to be okay.”
I want to believe it. Need to believe it.
But Mona’s words echo in my head, poisoning every thought.
Whose baby it really is.
What if she starts spreading rumors? What if other people start doing the same math she did? What if the whole club starts questioning whether Ash is really the father?
What if they’re right?
I head for the stairs before the panic attack fully sets in.
I need to lie down.
Halfway up the stairs, I run into Ghost coming down. He takes one look at my face and stops. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You’re pale and shaking.” He grips my arm gently. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
He studies me with those dark eyes that see too much. “Did someone say something to you?”
“No.”
“Bonnie.”
“I said no.” I pull away from his grip. “I just need to rest. Please.”
He lets me go, but I can feel him watching as I climb the rest of the stairs.
I make it to my old room and lock the door behind me. Then I sink onto the bed, close my eyes, and try to sleep.
22
GHOST
Bonnie paces the length of the common room for the third time in ten minutes.
Window to door. Door to window. Her boots hit the floor in a rhythm that’s starting to grate on everyone’s nerves.
Miller glances up from his pool game. “You gonna wear a hole in the floor?”
She ignores him and keeps pacing.
I watch from my spot near the bar. She stops at the window, stares out at the parking lot, then turns and does it again.
This has been going on for two days, ever since Savage Legion hit Snake’s tattoo shop.
They didn’t burn it down—just smashed the windows, spray-painted threats on the walls, left a dead rat nailed to the front door with a note that saidNext time it’s your apprentice.Snake closed up the shop immediately. Called Ash to tell him Bonnie shouldn’t visit until the heat dies down.
That was forty-eight hours ago. Bonnie’s been climbing the walls ever since.
She stops at the window again, pressing her palms against the glass.
