Page 7 of Diary of a Biker Queen

“Go to hell, Lynx. You knew, didn’t you? You’ve known all along. Is it yours?” I blew out a long, angry breath. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot!”

“It’s mine,” Dax said quietly, his face swelling from the punches he’d taken before Lynx had ended the fight in the most brutal way I’d ever seen. Which was saying something because I was no stranger to violence.

I stared at Dax. “Fuck. I really am an idiot. I should have known. From that day I saw you two talking on the steps in the house, I knew there was something between you. Yet I was stupid enough to believe your lies.” My gaze flitted to Nyah. I’d avoided facing her because I knew how much it would hurt when I did.

I was right. Pain pierced through me. “You were pregnant when you came to the house. That’s why you were naked in my bed that first night, wasn’t it? Seduce Luca, the moron, so he’ll think the baby is his.”

Nyah shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “That’s not—”

“Not what? Not exactly what you wanted?”

Her shoulders sank. “I thought it was your father’s room. That’s the truth.”

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Oh, that’s right! You never wanted me. It was my father you actually wanted to trap. That’s so much better.”

Nyah’s eyes grew cold. “Trap? No, Luca. If anyone was trapped, it was me and you know it. I never wanted to be in that house. Not for one second. I’m in love with Dax. He’s this baby’s father. I had a good life with him until—”

I couldn’t stand to hear another word come out of her mouth. Not about how it was my father she’d lain naked for, rubbing her little clit and getting horny over taking him into her pussy. Not about how she was in love with Dax or knocked up with his baby. I didn’t want to see that it was still Lynx with his arms wrapped around her, her holding on to him like he was the one thing in this world that made her feel safe.

Jealousy ate away at me because I wanted to be all those things for her.

But she didn’t want them back.

I couldn’t stand here another minute. I took my phone from my pocket and started making calls. First to get us a ride out of here, then to the airport, booking four tickets on the first plane back to the States. All while the other three stared at me, none of them saying a word.

I didn’t know if they were in shock or what, but they couldn’t go to the airport like they were, clothes ripped and bloodied. Lynx, Nyah, and I all had our bags with us, since we’d come straight from the airport, but Dax had nothing.

“Do you have your passport?” I asked him, while the airport’s customer service rep pounded a keyboard in my ear.

Dax blinked, then nodded. “I was told to carry it with me as ID when you’re out of the country. But everything else is back at the hotel.”

I listened to the clerk confirm our flights and then hung up. “Forget all of it,” I told Dax. “All you need is your passport. Everything else can be replaced.” I bent and rifled through my bag to pull out a set of fresh clothes. “Here. Put these on. We’re probably the same size.” I glanced over at Nyah and Lynx. “You two need to get changed as well. Now, before a car comes. Jesus fuck, Lynx, you’re covered in blood and you’re getting it all over her.” I peered through the darkness, hoping for a spigot or, hell, a pond, or even a puddle would do. Something with some water in it so we could soak a shirt and try to get some of the blood off him.

Of course, there was nothing.

Nyah moved out of his arms to find something in her bag. She came up victorious and tossed him a package of makeup-removing wipes. “That’s all I’ve got.”

She started putting on clean clothes, but Lynx just stood there, staring at her.

Even in the darkness, I could see the way his body trembled, shaking from head to toe.

Adrenaline crash. I knew the feeling well. Had gotten it many times myself after I’d put a bullet through the head of whoever my father had deemed unworthy of breathing.

But this seemed so much worse. Without Nyah to hold on to, Lynx looked like he was all up in his head, and I suspected there was more going on there than just whatever had happened tonight.

I didn’t have time for him to have a breakdown here. Or to even think about what he’d done to his victim’s back. Or that clearly Lynx was some sort of serial killer, if what that guard had said was true. The Lynx Killer? For fuck’s sake.

I’d given a serial killer a blow job.

“Lynx.” I snapped my fingers in front of his face, not giving a shit I was being an asshole. “You need to get changed. This car is going to be here any minute, and the ride share driver is not getting paid enough to be traumatized by a man who could have just walked out of a slasher movie.”

Lynx nodded, but whatever demons he fought in his head were winning. If it had been anyone else, I would have stepped in and slapped him.

But I couldn’t do that to Lynx.

Couldn’t fucking hurt him, even though he’d hurt me.

I fisted his T-shirt and dragged it over his head. The blood had soaked through to his skin and was now drying and crusty. He needed a shower, desperately, but that would have to wait until we got to the airport. I grabbed a handful of the wipes and started working on his arms and face, the places that fresh clothes couldn’t cover.