Spawned By The Bear: A Paranormal Love & Pregnancy Romance (The Spawned Collection Book 2)

by Amira Rain

  . He didn’t take a particular liking to any of them, though, and then out of the next batch of ladies, a lot of them went back home because they were scared of the wolves, or homesick or something, or all of the above.

  Then, like with the first batch, the chief wasn’t really crazy about any of the girls who stayed. Well, long story short, I guess he’s thrown his hands up about finding a wife, but he still wants a kid or two to help grow their little town and he’s ready to get on with it.

  ‘How does a man do this without having a woman of his own, though?’ you might be thinking. And that’s where my business associates and I come in.”

  I couldn’t imagine how.

  “To make a very long story short, Miss Fowler, the chief wants to hire a healthy young woman to be a surrogate mother. He contacted some people down here in the States, who contacted some other people, who contacted some other people, who contacted my business organization about the job.

  Since then, we’ve been on the lookout for a healthy young woman who might want the surrogacy job for cash money under the table, but we haven’t come across too many viable candidates since many of the women we come in contact with are of an unsavory variety, we’ll say.

  Which we know probably wouldn’t please the chief too much if he were to find out. Today, though… today, I think we’ve found a good candidate. And I know you’re certainly a woman in need of some money, Miss Fowler.”

  Ballpoint Pen Man looked from me to my dad and back to me. “Isn’t that right?”

  I also looked over at my dad, then back at Ballpoint Pen Man, whose brassy blond graying hair was gleaming in the bright sun. “How much does the surrogacy job pay?”

  I couldn’t believe that I was actually even considering it, but it wasn’t like I had any other choice to save my dad’s life.

  “A hundred thousand right up front, just for agreeing to let the docs implant you, or whatever they do, with some of the chief’s swimmers. If one of them doesn’t take to one of your eggs the first time, there will be four more tries for a total of five. If, after that, you still don’t get pregnant, you’re off the hook, another surrogate will be tried, and you don’t have to return the hundred grand.

  My organization also gets to keep a nice chunk of change for a ‘finder’s fee.’ If you do get pregnant from the chief’s swimmers, though, then you have the kid, it’s taken to the chief, and you collect another hundred grand.

  My organization also gets another chunk of change at that point, and all’s well that ends well. Unless the chief decides he wants another kid, that is, which he’s stated that he might, and if that’s the case, you might get a shot at even more cash.

  Whether you end up having one kid, or two, or fifteen, though, know that your part of each deal is done when you hand off the baby. You can’t contact it, or fight for custody of it, or anything like that.

  The chief thinks this way will be easiest. He wants to raise his kids in Greenwood, not shuffling them back and forth here to the United States, and a possible stepdad at some point and all that. And as far as a mom figure or whatever for the kids, the chief has got all sorts of moms and grandmas up there in Greenwood, so you wouldn’t even need to worry about that.

  Any kids you hand over will be well taken care of. The way I look at it, this is a very minimal loss, major win, situation for you. Sure, I know a woman might get broken up for a minute when handing over a just-born kid, but we’ll make it so that you won’t even have to see it to hand it over.

  You will have already saved your dad’s life, and you’ll have a nice little pile of cash for yourself and those nice little brothers of yours. Like I said, minimal loss, if any, and a major win.”

  With my mental gears churning furiously, I chewed my lip for a second or two. “Could another woman’s eggs be used so that the baby isn’t even biologically mine? I’m just thinking that that might make things emotionally easier for me.”

  Standing up from the faded tan couch with a faint wince and a faint groan, hands going to his lower back, Ballpoint Pen Man shook his head. “No. This whole thing is supposed to be simple and streamlined, and that just adds another player to the mix. Another player needing to be found, and screened, and paid. Probably more possible medical complication and prolonging of the whole thing, too. It’s supposed to be the chief’s swimmers going into one lady, hopefully meeting up with one of her own eggs. That’s just the way it is.”

  Ballpoint Pen Man’s two associates had long since gathered all their listening devices from the apartment and had returned to the living room, where they’d been standing silently.

  Now, after glancing at his gold wrist watch, one of them finally spoke, seemingly directing his words at Ballpoint Pen Man. “Almost time for our next collection, Boss.”

  Ballpoint Pen Man ignored him and continued looking directly at me. “So, what do you say, Miss Fowler? You ready to agree to become a surrogate, pay off your father’s debt, and keep him breathing in this nice, fresh spring air today? You ready to shake on it?”

  Thinking, I turned my gaze to my dad, who was still passed out, with the “nice, fresh spring air” from a nearby open window ruffling his thin gray hair.

  “You ready to shake on it, Miss Fowler?”

  After another long moment spent looking at my dad, I turned my gaze back to Ballpoint Pen Man. “No. I’m not.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Willing myself not to second-guess the decision I’d just made, I spoke to Ballpoint Pen Man in the steadiest, strongest voice I could muster. “I’m not just going to ‘shake on it.’ I want some sort of a written contract.”

  For whatever good it would do me down the road, if the mob men decided to go back on our agreement. But still, I just felt like I wanted something on paper.

  Somewhat to my surprise, Ballpoint Pen Man didn’t resist, just shrugged. “That’s fine. We can do a written contract. I happen to like them myself, even though many of my associates don’t. You’ll have to accept a contract written on a sheet of notebook paper with a ballpoint pen, though. That’s the only way I do contracts. If my word and my signature on regular paper isn’t good enough for a person, then I have no interest doing business with that person.”

  Now it was my turn to shrug, lifting my shoulders with my arms still folded across my chest.

  “That’s fine.”

  Fully earning the mental nickname I’d given him, Ballpoint Pen Man grabbed a ballpoint pen from his front pocket, and a small notebook from his jacket pocket. “Just give me a second to jot everything down.”

  Within a few minutes, he’d written up a very basic contract stating the main points of what we’d discussed as far as money and what was expected of me. For that latter detail, he’d written 5 pregnancy tries for 100k. If preg, hand over kid at birth for 2nd 100k. Throughout the contract, he simply referred to himself as Boss, me as Fowler girl, and the “company” he worked for as The Organization. Exactly one time, when specifying what debt my first payment of a hundred grand would be applied toward, he mentioned my dad, referring to him as Vodka Jimmy.

  He signed the three-page contract, scrawling Boss at the bottom, before handing it to me, and once I’d read it and was satisfied that it covered all the major points of our deal, I signed it, too.

  After telling me that I could keep the contract and he didn’t need a copy, Ballpoint Pen Man put his pen back with the other one in his front pocket. “Now… do you have any questions?”

  I certainly did.

  “Yes, just one. Why did you people let him do it? Why did you let him gamble his way up to a hundred-thousand-dollar debt?”

  Ballpoint Pen Man shrugged. “He covered his first several losses with us. Showed us that he was a man of his word. He also said that he had a rich half-sister or something who’d help him out if he got into too much trouble.”

  “Well, he definitely doesn’t, just a daughter who’s sacrificed nearly everything for him for years and who’s sick to death of it. So, I’m bai
ling him out this one last time… I’m doing what I need to do to save his life.

  But I swear to God… if you people ever give him another single dollar of credit or take another single bet from him ever again… if you even allow him to gamble anywhere else in this city, whether it’s with you people or others….” Pausing, I realized that my anger, which had cooled, was now flaring once again. “I swear, it’s you people who’ll be getting a knock on your door.”

  Instantly, I wondered if my threat had been a bit too much, or if I’d spoken it in a tone a bit too hostile for use on a mob man. However, to my surprise, Ballpoint Pen Man actually cracked a small smile of seemingly genuine amusement, snorting.

  “Oh, yeah? We’ll get a knock on our door? And who’ll it be?”

  With my face suddenly a little warm, I tightened my arms across my chest, still angry, but now a little embarrassed for some reason as well “Well, it’ll be me at the door. Obviously. And I won’t be very happy.”

  Ballpoint Pen Man snorted again, still smiling the tiniest little hint of a smile. “Look, kid. Your father’s gambling days in this city are over. Even if you hadn’t requested that they be over, they still would be. Once we have to take drastic measures to collect on a debt, we take the position that it would be an insult for an individual to ever again enjoy the pleasure of placing a bet in a city we run.

  Once we finish spreading the word that your father has been blacklisted, there won’t be an establishment left in Detroit that will even let him buy a scratch-off lottery ticket.”

  I had a feeling that Ballpoint Pen Man was being hyperbolic, though I hoped he actually wasn’t.

  Satisfied by what he’d said, I told him that sounded good to me, and he went on.

  “My associates and I need to go now, but first, a few instructions. The fertility clinic you’ll be visiting is called Bright Horizons Clinic on Marlow Street. One of the doctors there is a business associate of ours that we’ve already consulted with, so he and all his staff members already know what’s going on, that a young woman involved in a business arrangement with us will be coming in and isn’t to be charged anything.

  Monday morning, you call the clinic and you say you need to make an appointment, with the expense charged to the Alonzo family. They’ll know what’s going on and who you are. The lady at the desk will then ask you some questions about your monthly cycle and whatnot, because they’ll want you to be at a fertile point or something like that when you come in for your first appointment.”

  “Okay.”

  “Then, you just come in for your appointment, and we go from there. A while back when my organization was enlisted to help with this job, the clinic received shipment of what they needed from the chief on dry ice or something, so that’s all good to go, too.”

  “Okay.”

  Looking at me intently, Ballpoint Pen Man took a slow, deep breath before speaking again. “Miss Fowler, just so you know… there’s one thing I didn’t write in that contract.”

  “What is it?”

  Again, he took a deep breath. “If you renege on our deal before going to the clinic, or when the kid is born, if you fail to hand it over as agreed… if there’s any funny business on your part, or even any hesitation at all… very, very bad things could happen to you and your family. When an associate contracts my organization to do a job, we like to do that job well and with no snags or hassles, upholding the reputation we’ve established.

  Do you get my meaning, Miss Fowler? I like to think that I and the members of my organization are very agreeable people, but mark my words well, we’re not when we’re crossed.”

  “I understand you. I’ll uphold my part of the bargain, so long as you folks uphold yours.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about us.” Ballpoint Pen Man began heading to the door, gesturing to his two companions to follow, but after a few steps, he paused and turned to look at me. “Your father has a good daughter, by the way, you know. In this line of work, we meet a lot of people who just don’t care about their problematic family member anymore. Don’t care if they live or die. Someone going to the lengths you’re going to… showing this kind of devotion... you’re actually pretty rare.”

  Not waiting for my reaction, Ballpoint Pen Man turned and started for the door again. With very sudden, unexpected tears filling my eyes because of what he’d said, I watched him lumber away. However, just as I’d finished hastily wiping one eye and was moving on to the next, he paused in his trip to the door for the second time and turned to face me.

  “I almost forgot. We need a picture.”

  “A… a what? I mean… what for?”

  He’d already pulled his phone from his pocket, and he now held it up and snapped a picture of me, paying no mind to the fact that my hand had been up to one of my tear-streaked cheeks in mid-wipe.

  “That’ll work.”

  “Work for what? Why did you take my picture?”

  Ballpoint Pen Man pocketed his phone. “It’ll be passed along to the chief in Greenwood. My organization hasn’t been dealing with him directly, but the picture will be sent to the people who enlisted our help, and they’ll send it to the people who enlisted their help, and it’ll get to the chief eventually.

  I guess he just requested to see a picture of the woman who’ll be contributing half the DNA to his kid, maybe just to make sure she’s not a monster or anything, looks-wise, and you’re definitely good there. I’d say you’re about the opposite of a monster, looks-wise, whatever that might be.

  But to tell you the truth, though, the chief didn’t even say anything in his instructions about it being important to have a real beauty be the surrogate or anything, so I’m not real sure exactly why he wanted a picture. Just to see, I guess. His instructions just said ‘a healthy woman,’ and we already confirmed that that’s you, so he’ll probably just count the good looks you might pass down to a kid as a bonus.”

  “Wait a second. I am a healthy woman, but I never even told you that, so how are you so sure I am?”

  I was genuinely curious, wondering if the ‘glowing’ skin I frequently received compliments on was actually that convincing an indicator of robust health.

  Ballpoint Pen Man lifted his broad shoulders just a degree. “It was easy to find out you’re a healthy woman. We pulled all your medical records yesterday and saw proof of your good health ourselves. At the time, I was already thinking ahead to possibly giving you a way to help your father here today.”

  Now I was genuinely curious to know how, exactly, the mob had gained access to my medical records, but Ballpoint Pen Man was edging toward the door, and I could tell he didn’t want any more questions. Besides, the how of his “organization” doing what they had wasn’t even important.

  When I didn’t say anything in response to what he’d said, he told me to have a nice day, and he and his two associates went out the door, closing it behind them. After I’d locked it, I slowly made my way to the couch, suddenly a bit lightheaded, feeling as if I were in some sort of a daze. Clutching the contract in one hand, I sat down with the enormity and gravity of what I’d just agreed to do beginning to hit me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  When my dad finally came-to around six in the evening, slowly pulling himself up to sit straighter in his recliner, I was sitting on the faded tan couch, opposite him. I didn’t speak. I just stared at him. For some reason, I just wanted him to speak first.

  After rubbing his eyes and blinking a few times, frowning at me, he did. “I’m… I’m alive?”

  Disappointment was evident in his voice.

  “That’s right, Dad. You’re alive. Your little ‘suicide by mob’ plan didn’t work, and yes, that’s almost what I think it was, based on your behavior this morning. I almost think that whether consciously or unconsciously, you racked up your final huge debt with them actually in the hope that they’d ultimately kill you. I foiled your little plan, though, by making a deal with them.”

  Frowning even harder, my dad just looked at
me for a long moment. “Why didn’t you just let them do it?”

  Incredulous and angry, I stood up from the couch, fists balled. “Why didn’t I ‘just let them do it’? Why didn’t I just let them take you away and kill you? Really, Dad? Really? The answer is because despite everything you’ve put our family through, I still love you, and some little part of me still thinks you can be redeemed… that you can somehow still find your way out of these last six years of hell.”

  Now it was my dad’s turn to get up, and he rose from his recliner unsteadily, muttering, not even looking at me. “Oh, to hell with that. To hell with… with you.”

  He’d never said anything like that to me in my life, no matter how drunk, no matter how hungover and depressed, and it hurt. So, it might have made sense if I’d cried, falling back to the couch with my hands over my face. It possibly didn’t make sense that in my hurt, I was suddenly shouting, borderline screaming, enraged.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? How you’ve absolutely devastated this family? Do you have any idea what I had to agree to do to save you? I have to undergo artificial insemination, become pregnant, carry a child, and give it away to a man I don’t even know in order to pay off your debt!

  My own child, Dad! Half biologically mine! I’m going to have to just give it away! Do you realize how hard this is going to be for me? What I’m going to have to go through? On top of what I’ve already been through! For you. Always all for you!”

  I shouldn’t have hoped that my words would even slightly soften his deep frown, turning it into an expression of sympathy or regret, because now I was disappointed. In fact, my dad’s frown became something closer to a scowl, and he mumbled his next words without even looking me in the eyes.