Bohdi (King's Descendants MC #6) - Bella Jewel Page 0,47

a bit nervous,” I admit.

“Got nothin’ to be nervous about when you’re with me. You’ll love it.”

I swallow, pull the helmet on and get on the back of the bike.

I squeal as we take off.

But he’s right —the second the wind is trailing past me, the rumbling is filling my ears, and the speed is making my heart race—I do love it.

Oh, boy, do I love it.

16

THEN – BOHDI

“What’re you doin’ here, Sherry? I’ve told you you’re not welcome around here,” I say, standing at the door and staring at Sherry who has been calling me over and over, pounding on the door to let her in for the last ten minutes.

I tried to ignore her but, eventually, she was going to wake Sunny, and I couldn’t risk that.

“I just need you to hear me out, Bohdi.”

“What’s there to hear out? You’re harassing me. I know you’ve got shit goin’ on, and I’m trying to be sympathetic, but you’re causing me to become pretty pissed off.”

“I’m not harassing you!” she cries, her eyes red. “I’m trying to tell you something, and you’re refusing to listen.”

“You want to tell me that your husband is fucking my wife, but there is zero proof of that. I haven’t seen her anywhere near him, or him anywhere near her. Not to mention, she’s heavily pregnant. How the hell do you think she’s got time to go over there and do that?”

“She’s doing it! I’m telling you. The two of them meet up, I don’t know where, but she is always going out, right?”

I mean, yeah. She does. But she always has. That’s just Isla. She’s restless and can never sit still. Outside of the months she laid in bed when we lost our daughter, she basically hasn’t stopped.

“And?”

Sherry crosses her arms, shaking her head. “I know you don’t believe me, Bohdi, but ...”

“Have you actually seen them together?”

“No, but ...”

“Have you read a message or overheard a phone call?”

“No, but I’m telling you, they’re having an affair. I know you think I’m crazy, but I’m not!”

I mean, she fucking is.

“Without proof, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you. I have no reason to believe Isla is having an affair with Daniel, none at all.”

“What about Sunny?”

“What about him?” I ask, getting frustrated.

“You don’t see Daniel all over that little boy? You can’t tell he’s Daniel’s son? I can. I see it every time I look at him.”

“Sunny looks like me. Have you seen him lately?”

“Because he’s blonde?” she argues. “So is Daniel. Because he has olive skin? So does Daniel? What about his blue eyes? Those aren’t yours?”

“Isla has blue eyes, Sherry. I don’t see how that’s proof of anything.”

“He looks exactly like Daniel!” she cries.

“Daniel and I are very similar in looks,” I point out. “Again, what does that prove?”

“You’re not listening to me,” she growls, frustrated. “I’ve seen the two of them together, the way they speak, the way he smiles at her and she laughs. Their body language tells me everything I need to know. I’ve been watching and she disappears at the same time he does. They’re together, Bohdi.”

“You need to leave, honestly. You’re having problems in your relationship but I don’t need you bringing those into my life.”

She shakes her head, throwing her hands up. “I’m going to prove it. I’m going to show you I’m right. I’ll make you see the kind of whore your wife is.”

“Leave,” I growl.

She turns and storms off, and when she’s gone, I lock the door and close my eyes, exhaling. She has been at me for a while now, every chance she gets she continues to tell me that Sunny isn’t mine and Isla is cheating. I don’t believe it’s true, at least, I don’t want to believe she could do something that fucking heartless.

So, I let it go.

“Daddy.”

I turn to see Sunny walking out of his room, teddy in hand. I love this boy, god, he’s the only fucking reason I keep going. The only reason I find the strength to even get out of bed. Without him, I’d be a pathetic fucking empty mess. He gives me life, and I’m not about to let Sherry take that away from me.

Still, I focus on his face. Sure, he could look like Daniel, but he could look like me, too. Honestly, he looks a lot like Isla, so it’s hard to tell either way. I don’t see it, though. When I look at my son, I see nothing but mine. He’s mine,