Page 53 of One Night with the Biker

“No fucking way,” Reese snapped, unaware of my entire body sagging in relief and my adrenaline crashing. “I didn’t bring her here to get into your fucking drama.”

“Please.” Louisiana’s desperation shocked me. “Jinx is leaving in the morning.”

“I’m not Jinx anymore,” a female voice cried. “I’m Denali.”

Louisiana swore.

Once Reese kicked the stand in place, he dismounted, then wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me off. He held out his hand. “Give me your gun.”

“Kiss my ass.” I stomped around him. “I’ll be completely defenseless.”

He caught up to me just as I reached the steps, but Louisiana loomed in front of me, planting himself at the top of the small porch.

“You’re not coming in here armed, Ainsley.”

“Guns aren’t allowed in the cabin?” I asked.

“Chicks with guns aren’t allowed in the cabin,” he amended. “Either you give it to Reese or you give it to me.”

“If you weren’t such fucking assholes, you wouldn’t be concerned about women with weapons,” I bit out, outnumberedby dickheads. Praying I wasn’t making a mistake, I unholstered my gun, turned, and handed it to Reese.

He snapped the chamber open and emptied it.

“Christ, Ainsley. You have fucking hollow point bullets?” Reese grumbled.

“Roman wanted to make sure all threats were completely disabled,” I explained with a shrug, wondering how he saw in the darkness to know what ammo I had in the gun. I glanced over my shoulder and found Reese shining his phone’s flashlight on the bullet.

Louisiana stepped aside. “Go in. I need to talk to Reese.”

His tone brooked no argument. Now that I was unarmed, I thought it best to comply, so I brushed by Louisiana and walked inside, where a couch sat against one wall and a table with four chairs against another. A compact kitchen was on the other side of the room. Jinx leaned against the counter, arms folded, eyes puffy and red.

The moment her blue gaze landed on me, she stiffened and narrowed her eyes.

“You have some fucking balls bringing your ass here,” she snarled.

Although I didn’t resemble Nova, I’d leave nothing to chance. Mistaken identity had gotten more than one person fucked up. “I’m not Nova.”

“I know who you are, Ainsley. You’re that bitch’s friend. Guilt by association.”

I pressed my lips together to hold in my wince. She was right. Despite my suspicions and warnings about Louisiana, I looked the other way.

“I don’t know what you expected me to do,” I said in my own defense.

Tears slid down her cheeks and she swiped them angrily away. “You could’ve…you could’ve…” Her lips trembled.

“I couldn’t have done anything. When I…” Well, damn. I couldn’t let her know how deeply she’d been betrayed because Reese knew, too. As Louisiana’s best friend, he must’ve been reasonably acquainted with his wife. “I-I told Nova that I thought he was married. She didn’t believe me. If I’d had a way to contact you and spilled the beans, would you have believed me?”

She glanced at the floor, then turned away. “It doesn’t fucking matter. I’m leaving first thing tomorrow. My father’s coming to pick me up.”

Opening a cabinet door, she snatched a mug and filled it with water from the kitchen sink. She stalked to the microwave and began the heating process.

She folded her arms and stalked to me. “But if he thinks I’ll stay under the same roof with his bitch’s friend, he’s out of his fucking mind. I was going to say you or me.” She poked me in the chest. “If you don’t get the fuck out right now, I’ll do everything I’d love to do to Nova to you.”

Perhaps, the stress of the day and all the turmoil got the best of me. Or my fatigue and hunger. Maybe it was a combination. I turned away from Jinx and retched a combination of dry heaves, bile, and the water I’d drank when I was home. For the first time since my pregnancy began, weakness assailed me, and I plunked on my butt. It felt as if I’d sink into unconsciousness at any moment.

Jinx knelt beside me and swiped a cold towel over my face.

“Do you have any saltines?” I asked faintly, tipping my head back and resting the towel on my forehead. The spackled ceiling was a shiny white. Cotton Candy pink would’ve been prettier. I closed my eyes. “And7Up?”

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