Chapter Sixteen
“Damn, girl. You’re freaking glowing,” Shawna, my coworker, says. “Whatever you’re using on your skin, sign me up.”
“I don’t really have a skincare routine.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, don’t stop. That shit is working.”
“Noted.” I smile to myself as I restock the rose bouquets in the front cooler, thinking about last night with my guy.
The bell over the door rings, and my blood turns cold at the sight of Layla. I ignore her and continue working, moving to my next task as she moves around the shop looking at the vases.
“Daisy, we should talk.”
There’s nothing I want to say to her. I clip the stems of a sunflower arrangement. Inside, I’m thinking about stabbing my shears into her chest. I clear my throat. “I get lunch at noon. We can meet at the diner down the street.”
“Perfect.” She flips her long hair over her shoulder, spins on her heel, and saunters out.
“Who was that?” Shawna asks as she tosses my discarded stems into the trash.
“My man’s ex-girlfriend.”
“Shit.”
“Tell me about it.”
The rest of my morning goes by without incident. I don’t know if I should text Lunatic and tell him I’m meeting up with the bitchface or not. He’ll tell me not to go, and he’s probably right.
I duck out to lunch five minutes early and go across the street to Celia’s salon where Gwynee works.
“Hey girl,” Celia calls out as I slip through the door.
“Is Gwynee in today?”
“Not until tomorrow, I’m afraid. Is there anything I can do for you?”
I twist my fingers together as she breezes a pair of clippers across the back of her client’s hair, giving them an undercut.
“No, but thanks for the offer.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I give her a wave and walk down the street to the diner. My cell rings as I spot Tyrant arguing with Layla in the parking lot.
I glance at my phone and see it’s an unknown number. I hit ignore and dial my biker. I don’t know if he’ll answer since he’s on a job today.
Tyrant roars off on his motorcycle, and Layla goes into the restaurant. Lunatic’s number goes to voicemail.
Shit. I suck in a breath. Guess it’s time to see what this mean girl wants from me.
I sit across from her in a booth by the window.
“Order whatever you want. My treat.”
“I’m not really hungry. I had a big breakfast.” Lunatic fed me his cock. I keep the thought to myself. This isn’t a pissing contest. “Let’s skip the fake nice bullshit and get to the point. What do you want?”
“Fine. Have it your way. I just thought you should hear this from me. Girl to girl.”
My heart leaps into my throat. I know she messed around with Lunatic while I was in Lonerock. It’s not a secret.
“I guess there’s really no easy way to say this, but last night he hit me in the bathroom at the clubhouse. It was my fault. I followed him in there. It was the only way I could get him to talk to me. That’s why Tyrant brought me with him last night. He’s been my rock through this hard time.”
I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m pregnant, Daisy. I’m having Lunatic’s baby. He didn’t tell you?”
I school my expression. I don’t know if she’s telling me the truth. “Whatever goes on between the two of you isn’t my business. I’m not his mother.”
“Then maybe you should step out of the way so we can be a real family for our child.”
“If he tells me that’s what he wants, then I’ll respect his wishes.” She gapes at me. I guess I’m not giving her the reaction she was planning on. “Is that all you wanted?”
“For now.”
“Don’t come to my work again. This shit doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
I don’t fall apart until I get around the side of the building. My tears fall like rain. I don’t know what to think. I don’t get time to dwell on it. My lunch break is nearly over. Like Hot Mama taught me, I straighten my crown and go about my day.
When my shift ends, I barely remember the walk home. I keep replaying Layla’s confession or admission, whatever it’s classified as, over and over, dissecting her every word. I don’t want to believe her.
I collapse on my couch, clutching my cell phone to my chest.
I think about calling him, but every time I try, I can’t bring myself to hit call.
And now Lunatic has called me three times.
Each time I send him to voicemail. I know eventually I need to talk to him and ask him about everything Layla laid on me today.
I just don’t know what I want to say or how I want to say it.
I can’t see him hitting a woman. I know anything is possible, but he’s not that kind of man.
I’ve known plenty of them. He’s never raised his voice at me. The man has the patience of a saint.
My phone rings again, and I answer without checking who the caller is.
“Pequena flor. You’re a hard one to track down.” He knows I don’t have my tracker. Hector’s voice freezes me in place like ice in my veins.
“I’ve been busy carrying out your orders,” I lie.
“You were supposed to reach out.”
“I lost the burner and that piece of shit Tyrant told me you lied about my baby.”
“Did he now? That’s why I’m calling. I just picked up your child. I’m sending you a picture.”
My pulse beats so fast I think I’m going to be sick.
The phone buzzes with a new message. I put Hector on speakerphone and look at the screen.
I tap the message and wait for the image to download.
There’s a little girl wearing a pretty pink dress with matching ribbons in her hair.
Tears flood my cheeks. Tyrant told me I had a son.
I don’t know what to believe. Hector might be lying.
He could give me any kid and try to pass them off as my own, and then what?
I do a test and if they aren’t mine, I could get set up and charged with kidnapping.
“Daisy. Are you there? We had a deal, no?”
I clear my throat. “I know. When do you want to meet?”
“Good girl. I’ll be in touch.” The call goes dead.
Shit. Hot tears roll down my cheeks as I run my fingers over the screen, studying the child’s face. Could she be mine? Does she look like me? I don’t remember what I looked like at that age.
I dry my tears and dial Hot Mama.
“He made contact.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing yet. He said he’d be in touch soon.”
“Stick to the plan. I’ll handle my end. Just do your part.”
“I will, but he sent me a picture and told me he has my daughter.”
“You can’t trust anything he says.”
“I know.”
“Send me the picture. I’ll get someone to look into it.”
I forward the message and try to push it all out of my mind. But I can’t. My mind is racing and filtering through a million what-ifs. I don’t know what to do or who to believe.
I could call Gwynee, but she’ll tell me to trust my heart. But I know better than anyone that our hearts will eat lies out of loneliness.
I suck in a deep breath and call Lunatic back.
“I just got off work. What do you want for dinner? I’ll pick up something on my way over.”
“I don’t have much of an appetite. Get yourself something. I’ll snack on something I’ve got here later.”
“Is everything okay? You sound sad.”
“I’m just tired.”
“You sure that’s all?”
“Yeah. See you soon.” My stomach sinks as if it’s full of bricks.
I shove my phone down into the couch to keep myself from staring at the picture again.
I’m going to go crazy if I don’t stop overthinking.
I’ve got to tackle my life one problem at a time.
In therapy, I learned not to stress about things that are out of my control, but right now I’m screaming for my life on the inside.
I want to cry, but I’m all out of tears.
Lunatic lets himself in when he arrives. He sets a bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, then leans over the back of the couch to greet me with a kiss. “Mind if I shower real quick?”
“Go for it.” I need time to grow some tits to ask him about Layla and to come clean with him about everything. I can’t carry all of this on my own. It’s too big. Too much.
I walk out on the small balcony and hope some fresh air will help me find my nerve to start this conversation.
A few minutes later, my man, if I can still call him that, joins me. He takes up the other chair and balances his dinner on his knee.
“You’re quiet.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Yes and no. I don’t know. Yes.”
He grins at me, and my heart skips a beat. I don’t know if I can do this. How do I question him about another woman, then tell him one of his friends raped me, and that also my kid may be alive? That’s a lot to drop on anyone.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“I’m listening.”
“I should have told you last night when it happened, but I didn’t want to ruin what was left of our night.”
“Is this about Layla?”
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
“She came to see me at work.”
The muscles in his neck tense up, and he closes his food up and puts it to the side. “Did she tell you she’s pregnant?”
“Is it true?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you hit her?”
“What the fuck?”
“She told me you hit her last night in the bathroom.”
“That crazy bitch walked in on me while I was taking a piss and grabbed my dick. I elbowed her in the titty to make her get the fuck off me. Then the psycho cunt ripped her dress and punched herself in the face. If Kidd hadn’t walked in, who knows what else she’d have done or said.
I swear to you, beyond that, I’ve never laid a hand on any woman. ”
“I believe you.”
“Good. Was that what you wanted to talk about?”
“Yeah,” I lie, losing my nerve to bring up Tyrant and Hector.
I don’t know what he’d do. Last night he looked ready to kill when Tyrant was talking shit to me.
“No wait. Last night when Layla cornered you in the bathroom, Tyrant pushed himself up on me. I didn’t say anything before because I wasn’t sure who I could trust, but Big Daddy told me there’s a mole in the club. I think. No, I know it’s him.”
“How did you draw that conclusion from last night?”
“I knew before I went to Lonerock.”
“Don’t piss me off.”
“It gets worse. But I need you to call Big Daddy before I say anything else.”
Lunatic stares at me for a beat and pulls out his cell. He gets up and storms back into my apartment.
I may lose him after this, but I have to be honest with him. With myself.