Page 82 of One Night with the Biker

She nodded at the door. “Go,” she repeated. “I can handle it from here.”

I’m not sure what Bash told Boom Boom for the motherfucker to leave me in Salt Lake City at the American Scorpions’ clubhouse, but my brothers rode out this morning. I felt vulnerable and alone, and I missed my sister. Each time I thought about calling her, I remembered her betrayal. Carrying a Royal Bastard’s kid sickened me on its own. Knowing Reese Sinclair was the father cut like a fucking knife.

Though Kite vied for top position on my kill list, I didn’t realize how much he helped me until he left. Bash didn’t sendeither one of his brothers or a woman to help me. He didn’t send in food. If I hadn’t forced myself to figure out how to pull my pajama bottoms down and then use my feet to flush the toilet, I would’ve laid in my own waste since I went an entire day without seeing anyone. I used the shower to clean myself when I finished and sobbed like a bitch the entire way through. I gripped the towel between my elbows, staggered back to my room, because the weight of my self-pity overwhelmed me, and dropped the towel on the bed, rolling my body on it to dry myself as best I could.

By the time Bash sauntered in late in the evening, I lay in total darkness, completely naked, starving, fuming, and miserable.

He flipped on the overhead light. Other than a brief glance to identify my visitor, I refused to acknowledge him.

“I suppose you found a way to go to the shitter.”

His sadistic greeting pissed me the fuck off and I stiffened. “Fuck you.”

A chair scraped across the floor followed by movements that indicated Bash sat. “I’ll ignore your disrespect once. Don’t let it happen again if you like living.”

I’d wrapped my entire life around my club and my little sister. I was useless to one and wasn’t talking to the other. “Kill me. I don’t give a fuck.”

The smell of cigarette smoke traveled to me and my woe deepened. I would love a smoke. Food would be even better.

“I’d say you do,” Bash countered, chafing my nuts.

“You don’t fucking know me,” I snarled, “but let me clue you the fuck in. My sister is a traitor and I’m fucking helpless, an enforcer who can’t fuckingenforce.”

“You’re only as helpless as you feel, fuckhead. When I didn’t send anyone in to help you, you made do. You weren’t fucking helpless then, were you?”

My gaze flew to him and the smirk on his pockmarked face sent anger through me. “You withheld assistance on purpose?”

He puffed on his cigarette, then took it between his two fingers. “It worked, didn’t it? The more you rely on other motherfuckers, the more dependent you’ll become.”

“Who the fuck are you to try to save me with your fucking mind games?”

“I’m not in the saving business, Roman. But Iama big brother who’d do anything for his little sister. Even when Celia has pissed me off so much I want to fucking kill her.”

“I don’t want Ainsley dead,” I said quietly, the fight leaving me. “I just feel empty. When she moved to her own apartment, I put up an argument, but she wanted her independence, so I shut the fuck up.” I blinked at the ceiling. “I’ve heard about empty nest syndrome, you know? Never thought I’d experience it.”

“It’s normal. You were her primary caregiver.”

I nodded. “I love that kid.Loved,” I amended harshly, and changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on my complicated feelings. “Mom and Dad would be so proud of her.”

“Would they be proud of you?”

“I hope, although I didn’t do it for them particularly. I did it because Ainsley had no one else and I was her big brother. She needed me.”

“Sounds like you needed her, too.”

I’d never thought of it like that, so I shrugged.

Bash flicked ashes from his nearly gone cigarette. “She probably still needs you.”

“Doubtful,” I scoffed. “She has Sinclair.” My head was starting to hurt, so I drew in a deep breath and got to the heart of the matter. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I’m here because this is my fucking club and I can go anywhere I please. Iwantto check on you and ask why the fuck didn’t you come out to eat.” Snickering, he swept my nakedbody with an amused glance. “Never took you for a modest motherfucker, but I suppose I understand why you didn’t make an appearance.”

“It’s habit,” I said, scorn dripping from me. “I don’t want Ainsley seeing my cock.” Or anyone’s until she had a ring on her finger. Distaste sat thick within my gut. I moved onto another thought of how Ainsley had seen my ass on a few unfortunate occasions.

In silence, Bash finished his cigarette, then he threw it on the floor and stomped it. I remained silent, resenting his amusement at my plight, his intrusion, and his presence. He was right, though. My room belonged to him. For that matter, it seemed as ifIbelonged to him, too. All the promises he’d made about the prosthetics weren’t sincere. I’d gone to bed with a modicum of hope that I would have a sense of normalcy soon. In hindsight, I expected to be left with Bash for him to help me, but I hadn’t expected to be abandoned.

“Are you hungry?”

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