by Sophia Gray
A nurse walked in and checked the monitors. “Sorry,” she mumbled before pressing some buttons and leaving him alone again.
A cold layer of sweat covered his brow, and his heart beat as though he’d run down the hall and back. He wanted the baby. How could he have ever thought he could just walk away from something like that?
Fuck ’em and leave ’em was one thing, but knock her up and walk away? No. That wasn’t him. First, he’d need to find out if she was pregnant, and then he was going to make her his.
# # #
The discharge papers arrived just after Lucas managed to get down the mush they called eggs. He had to eat before they’d let him go, so he humored them and shoveled in the slop. Now he was free. The IV was out, he’d changed into his real clothes, and he was ready to get the hell out. His side ached from the shallow wound, but his head was what throbbed the most. A few stitches, but he was fine.
“Is my bike in the lot?” Lucas asked Trevor.
“No. Prez said to leave you the truck. He didn’t want you on a bike today.”
“That asshole.” Lucas grimaced. He wouldn’t be able to ride with that pain anyway, at least not comfortably. He’d give it a day. No more than that before he had that beast between his legs again.
“I’ll wait for you, drive you back.” Trevor nodded.
“How you going to do that if you have your bike?”
“Oh. Yeah. Okay.”
Just as Lucas was sending him on his way, the elevator opened and Josephine stepped out. She caught his gaze immediately, and her face flushed red. Lucas shoved Trevor in the direction of the exit and crossed his arms. He’d wait for her to come to him.
She looked around, planning her escape maybe, but eventually gave in and walked toward him. When she reached him, she gave him a little wave and tried to walk around, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “Josephine.”
“Lucas.” She gave a courteous smile. Her eyes weren’t as bright as before, and she looked a bit sullen.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Just visiting my mom.” She pointed to a room behind him. “You’re hurt.” Her brow wrinkled when she took notice of the stitches on his forehead.
“A scratch. Nothing.” He touched the stitches. Burned like hell, but he’d had worse before. “How are you feeling?” He tried not to stare at her stomach, but he couldn’t help taking a little look. The flowing blouse she wore hid her belly.
“I’m good.” She nodded, eyeing the room she wanted to escape into. In a heartbeat, her smile dropped, her face soured, and she darted around him for the door. He followed her into another patient room and right into the bathroom she bolted into. Bent over the toilet, she emptied the contents of her stomach.
He stood beside her, rubbing her back and holding her hair away from her face. He had his answer. Once she was finished, she sagged against him.
“Thank you,” she whispered, then pulled some toilet paper from the roll to wipe her mouth. He waited until she was standing completely on her own, then went to the sink to get some water with a little paper cup stashed there.
“Thanks,” she said again, taking a sip of the water.
“You’re pregnant.” He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. The confirmation sent an explosion of pride and joy through him. He was going to be a father.
“Yes.” She nodded, then gave him a wry look. “It might not be—”
“It is.” He took the cup from her when she finished.
“You can’t possibly know that.” She straightened her shirt and took a deep breath.
“I do.”
“It doesn’t matter. Remember?” She moved around him to get a glance at herself in the mirror. She tried to run her fingers through her hair but looked just as frustrated with herself when she was done.
“It does matter. I was thinking—”
“Whatever it is, no. I told you, I’m doing this on my own. I won’t ask anything of you.”
He stepped toward her, effectively backing her up against the bathroom wall. “You aren’t asking. I’m telling you. You got my baby in your belly, and I’m not walking away from that.”
She opened her mouth to respond—with narrowed eyes and tense jaw, it was probably a strong response—but she was cut off by someone calling her name outside the door. “My mom.” She grumbled and shoved away from him, exiting the bathroom. He followed her into the room to find an older woman, frail and sickly, lying in the bed with two doctors standing beside her. The doctors eyed him with curiosity but kept their mouths shut.
“Josephine?” her mom asked, looking directly at Lucas.
“A friend, Mom. What’s going on?” She ignored Lucas and turned to the doctors.
Lucas listened as they went on about her mother’s prognosis, her treatment, and the size of a tumor. They babbled on about insurance and non-covered procedures and out-of-pocket expenses. Lucas kept his focus on Josephine. Her muscles tensed the longer the conversation went on, and by the end of it, she was wringing her hands together so hard he was afraid she’d hurt herself.
He had stepped behind her at some point and rested his hands on her hips. Just a signal that he was there. She could lean back on him, and he’d support her. Whatever was going on in that room, she was being stripped of hope. He could see it in her eyes.
“Thank you,” Josephine whispered to the doctors when they finished answering her questions. They both nodded and walked out of the room, barely even acknowledging the patient in the bed.
“Josephine, I didn’t understand half of what those two were talking about, except I heard them talk about my insurance not covering something. What won’t they cover?”
Josephine stepped forward, taking her mother’s thin hand in her own and put on a smile that anyone in the world could see was fake. “Mom, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. Just a phone call. It will be fine.”
Her mother's pale eyes of narrowed. She didn’t believe her either. “I may be sick and half dead, but I’m not stupid. They said they already talked with the insurance.”
“Mom, don’t get all worked up. I’ll take care of it, okay?”
Soft eyes met his when she looked past her daughter and focused on Lucas. “Who’s your friend?” She changed the subject for the moment with a very good question. He had a bruise on his chin, stitches in his forehead, and was dressed in his dark jeans and leather kutte. He could only imagine what she thought of him in comparison to her clean-cut daughter standing right in front of him.
“This is Lucas.” Josephine waved a hand behind her at him but didn’t bother looking back.
“He’s a big one,” her mother scoffed and closed her eyes.
Lucas laughed at that, but Josephine’s back straightened even more, a feat he didn’t think possible. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. Josephine has told me you aren’t feeling well. I came across her in the hallway here, and she became ill. I followed her in here to be sure she was okay.”
Her eyes opened again, snapping to her daughter’s face. “Morning sickness again?” She reached up and patted Josephine’s hand. “It will pass, I promise.’
“You’ve been telling me that for weeks now.” Josephine forced a laugh.
Her mother eyed Lucas again. “You take care of her for me. I can’t do much right now, but she’s going to need help. She’s going to be tired and cranky. She takes on too much.”
“I’m working on it, ma’am.” He nodded, feeling Josephine try to pull out of his grip but unable to.
“Good.” She nodded and closed her eyes. “I’m tired. So damn tired.”
“Get some sleep. I’m going to get some coffee and make those calls.” Josephine pulled up the blanket a little higher and tucked her mother in. The woman was asleep before Josephine even turned around to face Lucas. “You can go now. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“Come with me.” He gripped her hand hard—not giving her any hope that she could get away—and pulled her
into the hallway. Once they were out of the room, he spun around and glared down at her. “Your mother is fucking dying.”
Her eyes widened at his accusatory tone. “She’s not going to die. I won’t let it happen.” She kept her voice low but firm.
“You can’t take care of this on your own. Those doctors said without that treatment or surgery or whatever, she doesn’t have good odds. The insurance won’t cover it.”
“What does any of this have to do with you?” Josephine yanked her hand from his and crossed her arms over her chest, plumping up her breasts.
“You’re obviously pregnant. You are having morning sickness, and you are exhausted. I don’t know a shit-ton about medicine, but I do know that if you don’t have insurance, the bills just pile higher and higher. For something like they were talking about, we aren’t talking hundreds or thousands of dollars, we are talking tens of thousands of dollars.” The muscles in his neck pulled tighter with the pout in her expression. She didn’t like being talked to like this, being scolding. Well, tough shit. Reality sucked, but it was real. You couldn’t hide from it. You had to face that shit head on if you were going to get through it. “I was wrong. I’m not walking away from this baby.”
“It’s not yours.” She gritted her teeth, shoving him hard but not enough to move him. She wiggled around him and stormed off to the elevators. He grunted when her hand pushed his side but stalked off after her anyway.
“Like hell.” He growled and stepped into the elevator with her when it opened. A glare at the nurse trying to step in with them kept her out, and he slammed his hand against the button that would close the door.
She scoffed at him and pointed at the doors as they closed. “Really? And you think you’re fit to be a father?”
“I don’t want to talk about this with other people around, sweetheart, but if you want strangers to hear how you asked me to knock you up after knowing me for ten minutes, then sure, let’s let them all in.” He stepped over to the buttons again to press the stop, but her soft hand on his arm stopped him.
“No. No, you’re right.” When he turned to look at her, she moved away from him and covered her face with both her hands. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry.” He pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. The burning pain in his side would have to wait; she needed comforting more than he did. “Just stop being so damn stubborn.”
“I don’t even know you. How the hell can I have a kid with you? What the fuck was I thinking?” She yanked out of his arms and cowered in the corner of the elevator. “You’re in a gang!”
“It’s a club, not a gang, but I’m sure from where you sit, it looks to be the same.” He didn’t raise his voice. She didn’t need that, not yet. “Look, we don’t know each other. Well, not enough to decide right this second what we want to do about us, but I’m telling you that since I met you, I haven’t gotten you out of my head. And when I saw you yesterday, it hit me. It wasn’t just you I was missing; I was worried that you’d be off having my kid without me. That I would never know him…or you.”
She swiped a hand across her mouth. “You really want to be involved?”
“Not just involved, no weekend dad shit, I want us to make this work. Give it a try.”
“Right now isn’t exactly the time for me to start dating, Lucas. My mom—”
“Is sicker than you let me think. I get it. We just met, and you were trying to get in my pants, but understand this, from now on, you tell me everything. No hiding anything; no sugar coating it. Now,” he stuffed his hands into his pockets, “how sick is she?”
“She’s going to die.” The elevator doors slid open on her sob.
Chapter 7
What the hell was she going to do? The hospital bills were already starting to get higher with each visit. The insurance had approved her admission, but out-of-network doctors were doing some of the tests. Hospitals didn’t pay attention to what doctors were in what plans, and if you got a radiologist reading your MRI who wasn’t in your network, you’d get a bill from his office, too.
The medicine alone was almost more than Josephine could handle. Her mom’s savings were nearly dry, and her own wasn’t much to boast about.
Seeing Lucas at the hospital had reminded her of what she had walked away from. A part of her pointed out that he was there because he’d been hurt in a fight. A fight. A grown man had gotten stabbed in a goddamn alley fight. That wasn’t husband material or father material. No, he wasn’t right for her. Then the other part—the part that found comfort in his arms, felt safe when he stared at her and longed to see him again after that brief encounter the night he was brought in—told her to ignore the danger. He would keep her safe. He would keep the baby safe.
He’d given her the night to think. After getting off the elevator, he told her he would think of something to help with her mom. He kissed her and told her to get some rest. She watched him walk out of the hospital and wondered what he thought he could accomplish that she couldn’t.
She didn’t get much time, though. He said he’d pick her up from work. What was she going to say? She needed to tell him he wasn’t going to be in his kid’s life. Right. Because he looked completely reasonable about that when he talked to her the day before. All of a sudden, the baby had meaning to him. He wanted it and her.
“Uh, Josephine?” Marissa tapped her shoulder. Josephine shoved the last tray of instruments into the autoclave and spun around. “There’s a guy up front looking for you. Said he’s picking you up?” Oh, no. Marissa started to smile. “He’s kinda hot.”
Hot. He was worse than hot. Just looking at him made her want to blush, and when she thought about all the things they did together that night, she really did blush.
“I’ll be right there.” Josephine finished setting the autoclave to start and wiped her hands on her scrub bottoms. It had been a long day. The insurance company was sticking firm to their decision about not paying for the Gamma Knife treatment unless her mother went with an in-network doctor, but the only one in-network had only just started his training on the procedure. Since, technically, he could perform the procedure, the insurance company said she’d have to take her mother there. So much for quality healthcare.
“Josephine, you coming? He’s tapping his fingers on the counter and looking like he’s going to come get you himself if you don’t hurry up.” Marissa appeared in the doorway of the break room.
“I’m coming,” Josephine snapped, then swung her purse over her shoulder. He couldn’t give her a few minutes to grab her things? He wanted what he wanted that very moment, just like a child. She was about to go on a date with a child.
A motorcycle club captain who acted like a child. Her stomach rolled, and she paused a moment to be sure the lunch she’d eaten hours ago was going to remain inside her stomach before she continued on down the hall.
She turned the corner to head to the front desk and bumped right into a massive chest. A massive chest covered in a leather vest. “Shit.” She rubbed her nose and took a step back.
“You were taking a while. I got worried.” He cupped her chin and lifted her face to look at her nose. “Not broken.” He gave her a charming smile and tapped the tip of her nose with his finger.
“No thanks to you,” she bit out. “Do you have cement for ribs? Cripes.” She rubbed it again.
He laughed. “Nope, just muscle. You okay?”
“Yeah. Just a bit tired.” Her stomach took that moment to grumble loudly between them. “And apparently hungry.” Her face heated under his smiling stare.
“Good. Let’s go get something to eat, then.” He plucked up her hand into his and led her out of the office before she could do more than wave to Marissa, who watched them leave with an opened mouth and envious stare.
When they walked up to his bike, she took the helmet he handed her and shuffled her purse strap around her head. “Where are we going?”
“My place.” He winked, then finished snapping he
r chin strap into place.
She maneuvered onto the bike behind him and wrapped her arms around tight. It felt too good. It shouldn’t feel so good just have her arms around someone like that. She did her best to pretend he was nothing more than a pillar, something to keep her from falling off the bike, but the longer they rode, the more she couldn’t ignore the hard muscles beneath her hands, and his musky scent mingled with the leather of his kutte.
Lucas’s place was a bi-level ranch on the outskirts of town. The grass was neatly cut, and all the bushes outlining the property were perfectly trimmed. There were even flowers blooming in the garden out front. Not what she expected from a motorcycle captain.