Page 71 of Jett

“Be good for your mum, kiddo,” he says, kissing my belly. I smile and he dips his head a little lower. “And you ...” He presses a soft, wet kiss to my pussy. “I’ll be back for you later. No more orgasms with those fucked up pregnancy dreams.”

“Did you just talk to my vagina?”

“I may have.”

“Get outta here. Don’t you have some kind of big biker club to run?”

“Don’t wait up. We got some shit to take care of with the Devils. Seems we both pissed off a bunch of Hitler worshipers, and then Crazy drove his Harley right through the front door of their church.”

“He did not?”

“I wish I could say I was kiddin’. The sooner that dumb fuck meets the Reaper, the safer it’ll be for all of us.” Jett collects his keys from the sideboard. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Jett?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Be careful.”

He winks and walks out the door, and I fall back on the couch with a sleepy, satiated smile on my face.

RAINE

AFTER SEVERAL MOREhours of napping, I get off the couch and decide I need to do some exercise, or this baby is going to come out looking like a forty-year-old couch potato.

I head into my room and change into a pair of maternity leggings that don’t feel like I’m cutting off all the circulation to my unborn child and a top that fits snug enough to hold my boobs, even if it does ride up a little over my ever-expanding bump.

I hate using the communal gym in my building, so I put on a pregnancy workout video I borrowed from the library.

Twenty minutes later, I’m a sweaty, exhausted mess and the baby is kicking like crazy as I lay in a heap on the floor.I could stay here until Jett returns, right? Because I don’t like my chances of getting up without assistance. Then the baby starts playing hacky sack with my bladder and I have no choice but to roll to a kneeling—and then much later a standing—position.

Nausea sweeps through me as I finally get to my feet and I have to hold the wall so I don’t topple over. I head toward the bathroom, but there’s a knock on my door so I double back and open it wide without checking the peephole

Two men shove inside, slamming me into the wall. My back screams. I shriek, and I’m promptly shut up by the man closest to me smashing my body belly first into the door. The pain is everywhere. I cover my bump with my hand as I slump to the ground, but my head hits the carpet and all I see is black. All I feel is pain and fear. Not for me, or for my life, but for my unborn baby.

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