The Biker Kings Next Door

June I’ve just had my sixth miscarriage at twenty-four. I didn’t even know I was pregnant until today. One minute I’m scanning returns at the library, the barcode scanner beeping steadily in my hand, and the next the world tilts sideways. Everything goes black. When I come to life, my coworkers’ worried faces hover above me. Someone squeezes my hand while another calls my name like I might float away. I brush it off as the usual grind—two jobs, no sleep, the endless hustle. But the ER doctor doesn’t sugarcoat anything. She slides the report across the desk, voice gentle but firm. “It’s another cryptic pregnancy, June. I’m so sorry. Your body’s taken too much. Years of scar tissue and damage… this womb is done. No more pregnancies. Ever.” The paper shakes in my hands. This is the sixth time I've had a miscarriage. Six tiny lives in six years, gone before I could even hold onto the hope. I stare at her, then at the report, numbness spreading like ice through my veins. The cab ride home stretches forever. My lower belly throbs with fresh emptiness, and I clutch the report to my chest like pressure might rewrite the truth. Noah my boyfriend will know what to do. He always pulls me into his chest, whispers that we’ll figure it out. For six years since we were eighteen, Noah’s been my safe place. I work two jobs—elementary school teacher in the mornings, and a librarian in the afternoons—to keep us afloat. My parents only covered Mina’s college, not mine. I had smiled and told them it was fine, then cried in the shower where no one could hear. At twenty-four I’m still saving every penny so I can finally start college this fall. I’ll sit next to eighteen-year-olds and own it I don't mind, I’ve waited too long. Noah’s back from college with Mina for a short break. I head straight home, heart a little lighter. I kick off my worn sneakers in the hallway, the cool tile soothing my aching feet, and walk toward his room with the report still in my grip. I’m already picturing his face, the way he’ll hold me while I break down. The door sits cracked open. Warm light spills out. Then I hear something, voices. Noah’s low groan. Mina’s soft laugh. The unmistakable slap of skin on skin. My stomach plummets. Cold spreads through me like frostbite. “Let’s be quick before your sister gets back,” Noah says, voice urgent and rough. Mina laughs again, breathy. “She won’t be back anytime soon. She’s probably still at the hospital getting more bad news.” My fingers crush the report that I can’t feel my hands. “Poor June,” Mina says, mock pity dripping from every word. “Six years of getting knocked up for you and losing every single one. She works two jobs, Venmos you half your tuition, sends me money for books, food, clothes—everything. And she still has no clue.” A laugh follows. “She’s actually starting college this fall to be with you. Meanwhile, I’m the one you really want, I’m hotter.” I don't know how but tears slip down my face silently. I can’t stop them. “She’s finished now anyway,” Mina adds. “The doctor probably told her she can’t have kids anymore. She texted me about it.” The report nearly slips from my fingers. I told her. And this is what she does with the information. Six years of trust, twisted into a joke. I push the door open. The room falls dead silent. Two faces I would’ve given anything for turn toward me. “Noah and Mina. Wow,” I say, voice hollow but steady. “Real classy.” Noah’s face drains of color. “June—baby, wait. This isn’t what it looks like.” I almost laugh. The audacity is almost impressive. “You don’t have to explain. The visual is pretty clear.” Mina scrambles for words, sheets clutched to her chest. “June, listen. It just happened once and then—” I stare at my sister. The girl whose tuition my parents paid while I worked doubles. The girl I sent money to whenever she needed it. The girl who knew about every miscarriage loss I've had. “Once? That’s cute. Try six years.” SLAP! My palm connects with her cheek before I can think. Mina stumbles back with a gasp. For the first time in my life, guilt doesn’t follow. Noah lunges toward her. “What the f**k, June?” He shoves me hard. I stumble, foot catching on the edge of the rug, and I crash to the floor. My nose slams into the tile with a sickening crack. Pain explodes across my face. And blood trickles warm down my lips as I push up, dazed but not broken. Noah stands over me, his guilt mask finally gone. “You hit her?” He exhales a sharp, almost amused breath. “Fine. You caught us. I’ve been playing you for six years—so what? You were my first, easy win. But come on, you’re a year older. Mina’s my age and hotter. She doesn’t come with all your baggage. Two shitty jobs, still saving for college at twenty-four while the rest of us are about graduating. I stayed because you paid half my tuition and kept Mina comfortable. It was convenient.” Every word slices deeper. Six years reduced to a transaction. I listen. I let him talk. I let him kill every memory we shared. Somehow that hurts worst of all. “I’ve been so f*****g stupid,” I whisper, voice shaking but gaining strength. “With everything I’ve done for you.” I pull the hospital report from my pocket—the one I rushed home to share with him—and let it drop to the floor between us. “I fainted at work today.” Silence stretches. “Found out I was pregnant.” My throat tightens. “So congratulations.” A bitter laugh escapes me. “You got your wish.” Neither of them speaks. “I lost it.” The words scrape out. “The sixth baby. I lost it before I even knew it existed.” Tears blur the room. “Doctor said there won’t be a seventh for me. Ever.” The silence is deafening. “I came home because I wanted to tell you.” I look at Noah—the boy I loved since eighteen, the man I trusted with every shattered piece of me. “I spent the whole ride thinking about how we’d get through this.” My chest aches so badly I can barely breathe. “I was even worried about you.” A broken laugh slips out. “Can you believe that? I was worried about how you’d handle the news. I was excited to come home to you.” Noah looks away. I wipe the blood and tears from my face, straighten my shoulders, and meet their eyes one last time. “You’re going to pay me back.” My voice comes out terrifyingly calm. “Every dollar. Every tuition payment. Every single thing I gave you.” I turn toward the door, the weight of six years lifting with every step. “And when I’m done with you…” I pause, voice dropping to a whisper that somehow fills the room. “You’ll wish you’d never met June Rivers.”