“My man’s ex-girlfriend.”
“Shit.”
“Tell me about it.”
The rest of my morning goes by without incident. I don’t know if I should text Lunatic and tell him I’m meeting up with the bitchface or not. He’ll tell me not to go, and he’s probably right.
I duck out to lunch five minutes early and go across the street to Celia’s salon where Gwynee works.
“Hey girl,” Celia calls out as I slip through the door.
“Is Gwynee in today?”
“Not until tomorrow, I’m afraid. Is there anything I can do for you?”
I twist my fingers together as she breezes a pair of clippers across the back of her client’s hair, giving them an undercut.
“No, but thanks for the offer.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I give her a wave and walk down the street to the diner. My cell rings as I spot Tyrant arguing with Layla in the parking lot.
I glance at my phone and see it’s an unknown number. I hit ignore and dial my biker. I don’t know if he’ll answer since he’s on a job today.
Tyrant roars off on his motorcycle, and Layla goes into the restaurant. Lunatic’s number goes to voicemail.
Shit. I suck in a breath. Guess it’s time to see what this mean girl wants from me.
I sit across from her in a booth by the window.
“Order whatever you want. My treat.”
“I’m not really hungry. I had a big breakfast.” Lunatic fed me his cock. I keep the thought to myself. This isn’t a pissing contest. “Let’s skip the fake nice bullshit and get to the point. What do you want?”
“Fine. Have it your way. I just thought you should hear this from me. Girl to girl.”
My heart leaps into my throat. I know she messed around with Lunatic while I was in Lonerock. It’s not a secret.
“I guess there’s really no easy way to say this, but last night he hit me in the bathroom at the clubhouse. It was my fault. I followed him in there. It was the only way I could get him to talk to me. That’s why Tyrant brought me with him last night. He’s been my rock through this hard time.”
I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m pregnant, Daisy. I’m having Lunatic’s baby. He didn’t tell you?”
I school my expression. I don’t know if she’s telling me the truth. “Whatever goes on between the two of you isn’t my business. I’m not his mother.”
“Then maybe you should step out of the way so we can be a real family for our child.”
“If he tells me that’s what he wants, then I’ll respect his wishes.” She gapes at me. I guess I’m not giving her the reaction she was planning on. “Is that all you wanted?”
“For now.”
“Don’t come to my work again. This shit doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
I don’t fall apart until I get around the side of the building. My tears fall like rain. I don’t know what to think. I don’t get time to dwell on it. My lunch break is nearly over. Like Hot Mama taught me, I straighten my crown and go about my day.
When my shift ends, I barely remember the walk home. I keep replaying Layla’s confession or admission, whatever it’s classified as, over and over, dissecting her every word. I don’t want to believe her.
