A Baby for the Beast

by Chance Carter

  "Life is so short, chérie. It's barely begun before it's even over, and during the few short years we get in between the cradle and the grave we must jam in every last bit of living we can. Whether you believe that fate orchestrated your situation or not, you at least believe in living while you're alive, no?"

  I stared out at the city below, wishing I could feel the breeze on my face. Even though her apartment was incredibly airy, right now I couldn't have felt more stifled.

  "I guess so. But what if—"

  "No what ifs." Calypso tapped the end of my nose remonstratively. "No what ifs. No buts. Just life. I'm thrilled to hear things worked out with you and Brendon, and I believe they will continue to do so."

  I offered up a weak smile and continued staring out at the sprawling urban playground of concrete spires and steel beams. I wanted to trust Calypso's judgement, but she lived up here in the clouds. I lived down there with the dirt and the grime. Could it be so easy as Brendon loving me back and wanting our child? Or would taking her advice mean the end to my life as I knew it even though I'd only just begun to build it?

  Chapter 17

  Brendon

  Julian was practically shaking with nervous energy, and I was more grateful than ever that I hadn't ceded to his demand of an ice cream cone on the way. I didn't want to see what he would be like pent up with a sugar high on top of everything else.

  "Are we there yet?"

  I sighed and looked back at him, smiling. "Not yet, kid. You'll know when we're there. It's your own house, after all."

  He scrunched up his nose. "All the houses look the same."

  "Trust me. You'll know it when you see it."

  Just as I'd expected, the second we pulled up next to his parent's elegant townhouse he whipped his head up and started bouncing in his seat.

  "We're here! We're here!"

  I put the car in park and killed the engine, grabbing the little backpack of his things from the front seat. Julian tried to let himself out of the back seat but was foiled by the child lock. I knew that every second it took to walk around and let him out was going to feel like an eternity for him. I was pretty excited too, and had gathered up Julian and his stuff the moment I heard the news.

  Avery was home.

  He'd gotten in early the previous evening, though Morgana gave him the night to settle before she told me and Julian. I guess she wanted some time alone in her home with the husband that she thought she might never see there again, and I couldn't blame her. I'd do the exact same thing if it were Aurora.

  Julian bounded up the front steps and jumped into the waiting arms of his mother, who had noticed me pulling up and was waiting for us at the top of the stoop.

  "I missed you so much!" she cooed into his hair. "I hope you were good for Uncle Brendon."

  "He was excellent. The paragon of a well-behaved little boy." I grinned and walked up, a warmth filling my heart at the touching scene. There was nothing like seeing a loving mother and her equally loving child. If I were Avery, I could spend all day just watching the two of them. He probably did, big softie that he was.

  "Is he awake?" I asked as I stopped in front of her.

  Morgana rose to standing, still clutching Jude's hand, and nodded. "He gets tired pretty easy, but other than that he's doing great. We've got round the clock medical care in case anything happens."

  "Where's daddy?"

  Morgana looked back down to her little man and ushered him inside. "He's up in the spare bedroom. Why don't you go tell him about your trip? Just remember that he's fragile, kiddo, don't jump on him."

  Jude did his best boy scout salute and then toddled through the door and up the stairs. I followed Morgana inside and handed her Jude's backpack. He had a lot more stuff that I'd bought him on his trip, but I'd forgotten to pack it in the rush of getting over here. I'd have to make another trip back later on.

  Morgana seemed to have regressed in age by five years. Her face shone with youthful energy and agony no longer twisted her features like it did the last time I saw her.

  "Thank you again for taking him," she said. "It meant the world to Avery to have someone by his side."

  "No, Morgana, thank you for making sure someone was there for him." I patted her on the arm tenderly. "He's lucky to have you."

  She looked down with a small smile, obviously still high on her husband's recovery. When she looked back up, her eyes were bright.

  “I won’t keep you,” she said. “I know you’re probably pretty anxious to see him.”

  I laughed and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek before heading up the stairs with almost as much enthusiasm as Julian. There’d been a moment there where I thought my brother wouldn’t pull through, even though I tried to pretend the thought never crossed my mind. Avery and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but it would ruin me if something happened to him.

  The roomy spare bedroom was outfitted like a comfortable hospital room, with monitors that beeped and flashed taking up the space at the far side of the bed. Other than that, things looked normal. Avery was sitting up in bed, a wide grin dominating his face as his son recounted all our adventures over the past few days. My brother had dark circles under his eyes and his skin was ashen where it wasn’t bruised, so I knew he was tired, but he held an arm around Jude and prompted him with question after question.

  “Disneyland?” Avery gasped and looked up at me in mock surprise. “Uncle Brendon took you to Disneyland? You must have been being a very good boy.”

  “I was!” Jude proclaimed proudly and without a hint of modesty. Just like his father.

  The whole scene touched me more than I expected it would. Their reunion was joyous and pure, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was intruding on something.

  Just as things seemed like they would reach an uncomfortable level, Avery got his son's attention and said, "Mommy missed you a lot while we were gone. Why don't you go downstairs and see her while I talk to Uncle Brendon? You guys can pick out a movie and we can watch it after your uncle leaves. How about that?"

  "Can't Uncle Brendon stay for the movie?" Jude asked in a high, innocent voice.

  I smiled as a feeling of warmth spread through me. Even with parents as loving as his, I loved knowing that Jude would always have a little spot in his heart for me.

  Avery caught it too, and looked between us with an amused turn of his lips. "I think Uncle Brendon's probably got a little work to do since he's been busy looking after you. We can have him back over soon though, okay?"

  Jude nodded and jumped off the bed, already running toward his mother's embrace. When he was gone, Avery's smile dropped and he let out a painful groan.

  "That kid's gonna be the death of me," he complained, only half serious. "Children and surgery do not mix."

  I let out an amused snort and moved to the chair next to his bed, sitting down while I waited for him to finish adjusting. He settled back against the pillows with a sigh and turned to me.

  "So? How did everything go?"

  "I could ask the same of you," I remarked. "I'm not the one who was in a car accident."

  "Looking after that little monster is a comparable task."

  I laughed. "Not even close. He was an angel."

  Even though Avery wasn't one to preen about his son, I watched the pride light up his eyes.

  "Glad to hear it. Morgana said you were with a lady when you picked him up," he said in a smarmy tone.

  "Is there a question you wanted to ask or are you just making comment?"

  Now it was Avery's turn to laugh. It came out as a dull wheeze that ended with him groaning in pain again.

  "Okay, yes. It's a question. Can you blame me for being curious? I've never met a single one of your women in the past."

  It was true, but only because I'd never found a girl I liked well enough to introduce to my circus of a family and everything that went with it. The title of eternal bachelor, I supposed, would pass to Keilan now that I was off the market. Maybe they'd start takin
g me a little more seriously.

  "Her name is Aurora," I said, unable to hold back my smile as her name passed through my lips. "You'll meet her soon, I expect."

  Avery's eyebrows hit the roof. "No denials? No topic changes? You must be pretty serious about this girl."

  I gulped and nodded. "I am."

  Avery, sensed that I would answer his questions without needling and pressed further. "How serious? What can I expect of this lovely Aurora?"

  No point denying it, I supposed. So, I didn't deny a thing. I told the exact truth.

  "I'm in love with her, if you must know. And you can expect an intelligent, charming young woman that I'm sure you'll love too."

  Now I'd really done it. Avery's expression quickly morphed from shocked to ecstatic, and he put his hand, with its bruised knuckles and IV tube, out for me to shake. I took it, feeling more emotional about the gesture than I expected.

  "I'm proud of you, brother." Avery shook my hand surely and released, leaning back against his pillows with a sigh. "You're really getting your act together. I'm impressed by how things went with Julian and your fearlessness in the face of love is certainly something to aspire to. It looks good on you."

  I cringed. "Not sure if I'd be considered fearless. You're praising me too highly."

  He raised his eyebrows. "Does she love you back?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know. I've never asked."

  Avery took a long, measured look around the room. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, and I couldn't imagine the kinds of things that might be crossing his mind. When he came back into himself, his eyes were more serious than I'd ever seen them.

  "Brendon," he said. "If there's one piece of advice I am uniquely qualified to give, it's this. Life is short and disaster can strike at any moment. Love without holding back. Tell the girl. Don't live to regret it."

  The air was charged with a solemn, unspoken energy. I was taken aback by the abrupt change in mood and it took a moment for me to fully process what those words meant coming from Avery's lips, how he'd nearly lost everything and then some, and how we all would have been bereft in his absence. He was right. I knew he was.

  But was I brave enough to tell her?

  Chapter 18

  Aurora

  It was hard adjusting to not spending every second of my day with Brendon. I thought that being with him so much would be stressful, that I'd always feel underfoot. I even thought it might cause some sort of stress between us, which was the last thing I wanted.

  Of course, I soon realized the opposite to be true. Brendon on tap was my ideal situation, and it was the act of coming home that ended up causing me strife. All I wanted was to wake up to him in the morning and go to sleep with him every night, but I was back on my own again in my own apartment with my own thoughts.

  When Brendon invited me over for dinner, saying that he wanted to cook for me since Julian was gone, I was ecstatic. Hell, I was beyond ecstatic. In fact, I forgot about the important news I had to tell him until I was about halfway through curling my hair. Then I remembered it so forcefully that I burned my finger.

  I had to tell Brendon tonight. I had to tell him that I was pregnant.

  Crap.

  I bolted to the bathroom and started running cold water over my finger like I thought relieving the ache of the burn would help with the ache in my gut too. It didn't. Surprise surprise.

  My phone buzzed from my bedroom and I hastily wiped my wet hand on my pants before running back into the room and grabbing it. My mom's face filled the screen, and I frowned even as I answered.

  "Hello?"

  I'd tried to call my mom a couple times since I left, but she never called me back. I couldn't say for sure if she'd been ignoring my calls or if it was simply bad timing and a bad memory on her part, but I had a suspicion it was the case of the former. So why was she calling me now?

  "Hello, Aurora. It's your mother."

  I rolled my eyes. "I know. I'm a little surprised to hear from you."

  "Why should you be? I gave birth to you, did I not?" she asked in a snappy, irritated tone.

  How was it that she was the one blatantly ignoring me and yet I was still the asshole?

  "It's good to hear from you anyway," I said, glazing over her last comment. "How are things over there?"

  "Oh, they're wonderful. Just wonderful."

  There was no trace of sarcasm in her tone. No doubt this was some sort of tactic meant to make me homesick. She'd have to try a lot harder than that.

  "You know Katy Harrison from down the street's getting married. She and that Tom Benninger fellow. Lots of good, eligible men still here though. And they're all hungry for brides now that they're getting older."

  So she wanted to try to lure me home with the prospect of a husband? Fat chance. I already had an amazing boyfriend, even if I might lose him tonight because of my little secret. She would have better luck if she called after our dinner and things hadn’t gone well.

  "That's great," I said. "It sounds like nothing's changed."

  She didn't miss my dry tone. I heard her sigh, but instead of commenting on it she said, "I miss you, you know."

  Silence for a second. Finally, I spoke.

  "I miss you too."

  "I called because I want to send you a care package and don't have your address there."

  Something tugged on my heart, and I clutched a hand to my chest without thinking. Mom and I weren't what I would consider close and never had been, so a gesture as tender as a care package was almost too sweet for me to take. It filled me with conflicting emotions about my life in the city and about what I'd left behind. More than anything, I started to feel a bit guilty.

  I gave Mom the address and then got off the phone soon afterward, saying I'd call her soon but that I was just on my way out the door. It wasn't the truth, but I didn't think I could stay on the phone with her any longer without bursting into tears. No matter how close we got, I never wanted to be caught crying in front of her. Especially when I needed her to think that I was strong and in control of my decisions.

  After I got off the phone, I took a break from getting ready and poured myself a glass of ice cold water from the fridge. It was only after I'd gotten halfway through it that I realized there was no point in being upset about leaving Bridgefield when I knew I'd done the right thing. I wasn't happy there. More than that, I doubted it would ever be possible for me to be happy there. I was right where I needed to be, and I was doing what I needed to do to be happy. Sort of. The unplanned pregnancy threw a bit of a wrench into the mix but I was going to love my baby and even losing Brendon wouldn't stop me from doing that.

  I just had to tell him.

  I finished getting ready and grabbed a cab over to Brendon's place. I'd been there a few times since our first clandestine mid-day tryst, but I got overwhelmed by the beauty of it every single time. Everything about the building, built during the peak of New York's art-deco period, reminded me of old world regality. It was timeless, and I could see Brendon living in a place like this well into his eighties, still rocking the bachelor lifestyle he seemed to love.

  I couldn't, however, see where we'd fit a baby in this building.

  Even with all its many thousands of square feet, I couldn't picture where we could put a crib, a diaper bin, or even a stroller. Or maybe that was just me projecting my worst fears. Who knew.

  I reflected on my ride up that I wished I could have told my mom about the pregnancy. I'd been desperate to talk to anybody about it, especially since Amy still hadn't gotten back into service range and I needed someone to tell me everything was going to be okay. Calypso had helped. My mother wouldn't, which was why I didn't tell her in the end.

  Brendon greeted me at the door with a huge, shit-eating grin that knocked the breath from my lungs. He pulled me into his arms and laid a wet kiss on my lips.

  "Hey, beautiful." He patted my butt and ushered me further into the apartment, closing the door behind me. The smell of tomato and ga
rlic hung in the air, and I inhaled it greedily. My stomach, often conflicted these days, instantly began grumbling and begging for food. At least I wouldn't be throwing up Brendon's home cooked meal tonight. Huzzah.

  "It smells delicious in here. What are you making?"

  Brendon strode over to the kitchen and stirred a pot on the stove.

  He looked up and smiled bashfully. "The only thing I'm any good at making is my mom's famous spaghetti marinara."

  I raised my eyebrows. "Your mom has a famous pasta recipe? Aren't you guys Irish?"

  He laughed. "Even the Irish love spaghetti."

  He was in an exceptionally good mood, which made me nervous as far as my plan for the evening went. Was it better for him to be in a good mood when I told him, or was it just going to make him plummet into anger?

  I didn't get much time to think, however, because soon Brendon was pouring me a glass of wine and my heart was racing like crazy in my chest. One glass of wine might not hurt the baby, but I wasn't willing to take the chance.

  "Oh, I'm okay," I said.

  "You sure?" He furrowed his brow. "Everything okay?"

  Maybe this would be a good time to tell him.

  My resolve was not so strong. I offered up a weak smile and just said, "I might have one later. My stomach's been a bit unsettled today."

  It was a lame excuse but Brendon didn't question it. He went back to stirring his sauce and I went back to quietly castigating myself for my cowardice.

  It was one of the nicest dinners we'd ever had together. Maybe the nicest. Although he claimed otherwise, Brendon was a good cook and I thoroughly enjoyed my meal. Afterward, he offered me another glass of wine and I declined again. This time my excuse was that I was too full.

  We moved to the couch to watch as the city lights slowly flared on, one by one, and I cuddled up against Brendon's side like I might never get another chance. This was it. I had to tell him now.

  Brendon turned his face toward me, lips curved and eyes dreamy and full of light. He looked so handsome. I was always awestruck by his pure, masculine beauty, and he'd already begun kissing me before I had the wherewithal to realize there was something I still needed to tell him.