Page 132 of Making Choices

“Oh, Carter, Carter, Carter… maybe the intent isn’t to fool anyone, but is to make a fool of someone.”

“Me?”

Bebe sighs. “Not everything is about you.” She smirks as she shoves me in the stomach to move me out of her way. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a concert to get ready for. Can’t wait to spend the night with your friends.”

When she tries to move past me, I circle my fingers around her upper arm and pull her up onto her tiptoes. “You even breathe wrong around her tonight and I’ll kill you.”

“Tut, tut, tut, that almost sounds like a threat.” Bebe clucks her tongue, then she laughs. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to beg the big, bad biker to spare my life?”

“Nah, this is the part where you give me my key back, walk the fuck outta my front door, and never come back.”

After I allow her to wrench her arm free of my grip, Bebe heads for the foot of the stairs. As she reaches it, she turns around. One hand on the balustrade, the cold-blooded bitch makes the shape of a handgun with her fingers, then pretends to sight me up.

“His name was Christopher Garrett.” My heart drops into my boots as the given names my dad and dead brother share shoots from her lips like bullets. “She was going to call him Garrett to minimise confusion.”

“Who was?”

“Bang—’ Bebe jerks her hand like she’s pulled the trigger on me. “—payback has finally been had.”

When she jogs up the steps, I race to follow her. She’s at the head of the staircase when I reach the bottom, and she’s waiting for me with hatred in her eyes. I put one foot on the lowest stair, only to pause when she shakes her head.

“Don’t make me hurt her.”

“What the fuck, Bebe? I don’t understand—”

“Neither did Jenna. All she wanted was your love, but you killed them instead.” Her cold statement drains the blood from my face. “Now, I’m going to return the favour.”

I chase Bebe down when she spins around to dash in the direction of Cherub’s bedroom. The door closes behind her before I can stop her from entering. I want to force my way inside, but my gut tells me that I need to put my faith in Nadia’s wily ways and Cherub’s ability to protect herself to do what I should’ve done two months ago.

Pulling my phone from my cut, I call Cub.

“Need you to run a check on Beatrice Du Bois,” I tell him without waiting for him to say a word. “And I need it yesterday.”

“Fret’s doctor? Little Cherub’s new friend?”

“Yeah.”

“Why now?” The sound of his fingers flying over his keyboard is loud in my ears. I hold my breath, praying like fuck that I’m wrong. “You told me not to worry about her after her boss came back as the connection to the Maddison clan.”

“She just accused me of killin’ Jenna.”

“Your baby momma?” Cub makes a strangled sound. Hearing the girls laughing in the room, I edge away from the door so I can continue our conversation without being overheard. “Fuck, brother, I’m sorry… that came out wrong.”

“Nah, it came out right. That’s all she was to me.”

My hatred for the woman who gassed herself and my son to death in the garage of her billionaire daddy’s Dalkeith mansion burns as hot as ever. I never thought I’d loathe anyone as much as I detest Jenna Greatbatch, but tonight, Bebe is certainly giving her a run for her money.

The threat she levelled at my duchess won’t go unanswered.

“Hell… Fuck. I dunno if you want to hear this over the phone,” Cub tells me.

“Probably not, but I need to know now.”

“Beatrice Du Bois doesn’t exist.”

Stomach churning, I glance at the door. Every fibre of my being wants to run in there and put a bullet in the good doctor’s head, except I know that’s a fool’s errand. She wouldn’t have swaggered in here tonight and lobbed both a threat and an accusation at me if she didn’t have her duck’s in a row.

Whatever Bebe has planned has reached its inflection point.

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