All Chapters of My Biker Stepbrother, My Ruin: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

~Teyana’s POV~The bass coming from the club speakers pounded straight into my chest like it was trying to knock me out. The smell of alcohol and smoke were next. I coughed once. The blinking lights weren’t my favorite thing about here either. But I was here for a purpose anyway- to have fun.Carol squealed the moment we step inside.“This is it!” she shouted over the speakers, gripping my wrist. “Tonight is going to be insane, T!” I smiled, letting her pull me forward, letting the noise swallow my thoughts before they could organize themselves into something I didn’t want to go back to again- or at least tonight.I was wearing a very short denim skirt. The type that barely covered anything. The matching denim bralette too was thin, fitted, and intentional. I bought this outfit weeks back with a very specific night in mind—One where Jeremy would look at me and lose all self-control. One where the air between us would snap, where he wouldn’t be able to resist me, where we’d disappear

The drive was quiet, except for her slurred complaints and sporadic giggles. I didn’t respond. Anger made silence necessary. She had been reckless, too reckless. Wearing that and dancing seductively like that- even letting the guy touch her.Anything could have happened and Carol wouldn’t be able to handle the consequences. Shit.When we finally arrived at my place, I opened the car door and helped her stumble out of the car. She was ranting, still attempting to shift blame or plead her case, but I ignored every word. I scooped her into my arms and carried her upstairs to the guest room. Grim followed us, but stopped by the door- as if not wanting to intrude something private. That dog was wise. She would have come in if it was only me.Placing Teyana gently on the bed, I removed her heels despite her numerous whining. I cursed under my breath at the sight of her vulnerable, panties revealing with her leg slightly raised while I peeled the heels off her feet. I shoved my dark unhinged

~Teyana’s POV~I sat under the shower longer than necessary, long enough for the steam to fog the mirror completely, long enough for the water to run lukewarm and still not wash away the heaviness clinging to my body. My palms pressed flat against the tiled wall as I sat there with my head bowed, eyes closed, breath uneven, because I remembered it.Some parts of last night were a blur. How Jeremy showed up at the club, how his hand wrapped around mine, how the dizziness faltered as he dragged me away from everything I thought I wanted in that moment. Those parts slipped in and out of focus like badly edited scenes.But the rest?The rest was painfully clear.My body remembered everything even when my mind wanted to pretend otherwise. The way my legs still felt weak, the dull ache between my thighs that refused to let me forget how thoroughly I had been undone, how shamelessly I had wanted him, how desperately I had begged for him to stay.I shut the water off and rose in silence, drop

~Teyana’s POV~•Two Months Later•“Mrs Carter has less than three months to live.”The words landed between the doctor and I like a physical weapon, heavy enough that I felt it press into my chest. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe properly. I was seated across the family doctor table, my hands folded tightly in my lap, nails digging into my palms as though pain there could keep the rest of me from breaking apart.I closed my eyes slowly, because I knew if I kept them open, the tears would spill immediately, and once they started, I didn’t trust myself to stop. I focused on the sound of the air conditioner humming softly above us, the muted beeping of hospital machines outside the office door, anything that wasn’t his voice replaying the sentence again and again inside my head.Less than three months. My mother.When I opened my eyes, the doctor was still talking, his tone careful and practiced, the way people speak when they know they’re holding a fragile information.“At this po

~Teyana’s POV~I had noticed it long before I admitted it to myself. John had stopped coming as often to the hospital to visit my mother.At first, I told myself I was being unfair, that men like him- men who carried companies- underground duties on their backs and countries in their contacts, measured love differently. But hospitals have a way of stripping excuses bare. You start noticing patterns when you spend every day staring at the same walls like I had for sometime now in my mother’s ward. My mother noticed too. She never said it outright, but she asked about him in ways that pretended not to ask.“Were you in the house today? Did John eat today?”“Did he mention if he’s traveling again?”“Tell him not to rush. I’ll be fine.”She was never fine.And now, because I would need days of rest after the abortion- days where I wouldn’t be able to move without folding in on myself- someone else had to take my place beside her hospital bed. Aunt Kelly had flown back to London for urge