by Brandi Aga
Armillio baited me here with my little fucking sister. He’s already fucked her up. Cut slices on her thighs. Sent me the pictures to prove it. So here I fucking am, at this shithole of a house where he deals his drugs out of.
Blaze takes out the two assholes at the back door. I turn the knob slowly and as quietly as possible. Taking Armillio by surprise is our only advantage right now.
There she sits, sprawled out on the shitty stained couch, a needle still sticking out of her arm. Squatting down and feeling for her pulse, I find one, but just barely.
“Roman!” Blaze shouts from the doorway and aims his gun at one of Armillio’s gunmen running down the hallway. He’s got his sights straight on me. I swivel around, ready to blow his head off. He lowers his aim in a split second, shooting Emerson straight in the head instead. I don’t even think twice about it and unload my magazine into him. I drop to my knees and hold my dead baby sister to my chest. “FUCKKK!”
“Is this your office?” Leylah questions. Her voice brings me back to the present, back from that nightmare. I hadn’t even realized we walked this far after I zoned out. Those memories still haunt me. My hands are forever stained in Emerson’s blood.
“Yeah, this is it,” I say, turning to unlock the door. I’m tryin’ not to be an asshole, tryin’ my hardest not to show my mood. Not the right time to have to explain my former involvement with a Mexican drug cartel. She doesn’t need to know about that life. Hopefully, she never finds out.
Leylah walks over to my desk and stands between it and my chair. She takes her shirt off and lets it fall on the floor.
Fuck me, those tits.
Spillin’ over her black leather bra.
My body meets hers as she leans back onto my desk. I lift her ass up just enough to tug her leggings down and lay her body on the smooth hard surface. It’s a beautiful sight, this woman laid out across my desk in leather.
Leylah runs her hand down her stomach and into her underwear. I can’t wait any longer. I shove my jeans down and line my cock up with her hot, wet pussy. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
She sits up on her elbows, her tits jiggling just slightly as I lean forward and pop one in my mouth. I reach around blindly for my chair and sit, bringing Leylah with me, straddlin’ my lap.
Doesn’t get much better than this shit right here.
“Roman.” She barely pants my name out, bouncing up and down, jackhammerin’ me straight up into her. I feel her tighten around me and quicken my pace. When her release is spent, she climbs off and puts those pretty lips around my cock.
“My dirty girl.” She never fails to surprise the hell out of me. She sucks my cock till I’m all but pullin’ her hair out before she climbs back on and rides me till I come. I pull her against me, still inside of her, and just sit. No sound around us except for the pants of our breathing.
She climbs off, stretching, with a shit-eating grin on her face. “Totally worth the wait for this,” she says, motioning around the room. Shop sex, officially my favorite.
I put my dick back in my pants and lock up shop.
Roman and I had some of the hottest sex of my life last night. After our office sex sesh, we loaded Woodzy up and brought him home with us. We showered, went for round two, and passed out.
Stretching out with so much space, it dawns on me that I’m alone. I don’t feel all that great either. I don’t know if it’s something I caught at work or on the plane, but there’s something going on. Actually, something is coming up right now.
On cue, my stomach grumbles, and I know I don’t have long if I plan to make it to the bathroom. I spend the next ten minutes dry heaving into Roman’s toilet, thankful that I’m able to pray to the porcelain gods in private.
Rummaging through the cabinets, I find a washcloth and some Pepto. I wet the cloth and sit down on the floor against the cold marble on the side of the tub. It feels good against my sticky, sweaty skin.
“Mornin’, babe.” There’s a light rap of knocking as Roman’s rings bounce against the wooden door.
Shit.
I clear my throat. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Sure, was just gonna let you know breakfast is ready. Made bacon and pancakes.”
Ugh, food. “I’ll be right there.” I hear his footsteps pad away. Chancing a quick glance at myself in the mirror, I see that I look like death warmed over. I tie my hair back and wash my face. That will have to do for now.
I spend the next few days with Roman, feeling much the same. I’m weak and tired, and I honestly just want to be alone in my bed where I can wallow in peace with whatever virus this is that’s killing me slowly from the inside out. I can’t take much more of it.
“I think I should go home till I at least stop puking every meal I eat.”
Roman’s squatted down by the bed, rubbing my hair. “Anything I can do?”
“I just feel bad. I’m no good here sick in bed. I’ll go home and rest. You do your thing at the shop, and I’ll recoup.”
“You sure you can fly like this?”
I hadn’t thought about actually making it home. “Yes. I’ll be fine,” I lie. Or at least it feels like I won’t be fine. Roman stands up and leans over me, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t get too close. You’ll get sick too.”
“Babe, after everything we did earlier this week, ain’t nothing getting me sick if I’m not already. And it sure as hell won’t keep me from kissing you.” Okay, he’s got a point, and I’m blushing. “Get dressed and see if you can grab a flight. I’ll pack your things up. Take you out to dinner before you go. Think you can eat?”
I sigh. “I have to eat something.”
“That’s my girl.”
This client has been a pain in my ass. Douchebag keeps changing his mind, making my life as complicated as he can. I’m workin’ on this one myself after he complained the boys weren’t doin’ it right. My bikes are custom, completely one of a kind. I’ll get my hands dirty myself if that means making the best of the best.
“Roman, need a word with you, man,” Blaze says with a clipped nod toward my office. I didn’t even hear him come in, I’m so focused on this piece. He just got back from a quick trip to Texas with some information I’m looking for. I sent him on an errand I couldn’t risk anyone else finding out about, not with Armillio’s name floating around.
I don’t even bother washing up. I need to hear this now. I throw my tools down and march over to my office, Blaze following right behind me. “What’s the verdict?”
Blaze lights one up and visibly relaxes. “Far as I can tell, she’s living in an apartment with some other bitch. Followed her to work twice, both of ’em. Everything checked out okay. There is one thing. Did a little extra digging on your girl on the flight there, you know, public records and all.” He winks. “Pretty sure she’s married to a dude named Ryan Calvert. Independent contractor, works overseas sometimes.”
“Married? Or divorced?” I ask, needing clarification of the two. I’m pissed the fuck off. I jump to my feet, pacing back and forth. This right here, this is why I don’t do serious.
“Yeah.” He winces. “Looks like on paper she’s still legally married to him. No sign of him anywhere near her though. I flagged his truck down and watched his house. Story matches up. They never saw each other.”
“Not a word of this to anyone. I mean it. I can’t have Armillio and his guys getting wind of her, not with him so stirred up like this.” Our eyes pass each other, and all the things that go unsaid scream really fucking loud.
“I got it, boss. Don’t forget I was there that day too.”
I’ll never forget.
“Go on, get outta here for the day. I need to finish up.” He’s never once doubted me or gone against his word. He doesn’t start now.
“Well, you don’t have the flu,” Lexie says, scanning her eyes up and down my chart. “But you do appear to have high HCG levels, according to your blood work. Congrats!” Lexie puts her hand on my shoulder and passes m
e the folder I had her write up for me with my lab work, before leaving me alone with the news.
After my mystery virus wasn’t showing any signs of retreating, I came in early before my shift to get some fluids, see if that would make me feel better. I know I shouldn’t be working sick, but I don’t have a fever, and I’ve been feeling like this forever it seems.
Lexie agreed on doing my labs for me, as I asked her if she could do it discreetly. I can only imagine what she thinks of me now. As far as she knows, Ryan and I have no issues, but I’m clearly not jumping for joy.
I feel like I’m going to throw up… if there was anything left in me to throw up. I’m trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I’ve been having unprotected sex with my husband for the past ten years and have never been able to get pregnant. Why now? Why, of all times, did this have to happen now?
I’m slowly learning that that’s the thing about life, it hits you out of left field when you least expect it. Things you’ve wished, dreamed, prayed for, they don’t happen until you’re in a different state of mind and so not ready. One would think that I’d have learned that by now.
I don’t even know what Roman will think of this. I’m pretty sure he’s going to flip the fuck out. I left Ryan because my heart was screaming so loudly that I need to pursue whatever this is between us. As if it wasn’t complicated enough, this happens.
I never leave a shift early, ever, but today is important. I need to talk to Erin and figure this out. Typing out a quick text to let her know I need her, I straighten myself up and head to the nurses’ station. They’ll just have to understand that I can’t be here today.
Erin throws the door open as soon as I reach the landing of the porch. “What’s wrong?” She wraps her arms around me in the biggest best friend hug possible. If I trusted anyone with my life, it would be her.
“I fucked up. Big. Probably the biggest fuckup I’ve ever made, and you know how my life events have played out recently.”
Her eyebrows are thrown together, and she squints her eyes at me, accusingly. “What did you do?”
Slapping my hand over my eyes shields me from her stare and gives me the courage to just blurt it all out. “I’m pregnant.” She’s silent, and I can’t force myself to look at her.
“By Roman?”
“Seriously? Yes, by Roman. I haven’t been with Ryan since before I told him about everything. And I haven’t been with anyone else.”
“Okayyyy. Wow. Is this bad?”
“Yes, it’s bad! We don’t even live in the same state! I’m not even legally divorced! I don’t even know if he wants kids! Hell, up until an hour ago, I didn’t even think I could have kids! Things are just… amazing right now, and I don’t want to mess that up. What if he freaks out on me?”
“Like you are right now? Leylah, listen to me.” She hops up on the kitchen island and gives it to me straight. “Any dude would be lucky to have you. If a kid is a part of you, then he will want that too. If not, then he wasn’t the right guy for you anyway. And you will always have me. I will be your baby daddy in the event that such a thing is necessary.”
Hysterical laughter is the only emotion that comes out of me at her ridiculous lecture.
Erin makes her way over to the fridge and grabs a gallon of our favorite strawberry cheesecake ice cream and holds up two spoons. “Besides, you have nothing to worry about. Roman’s not that kind of guy anyhow.” She gives me a knowing look like I’m the dumbest person in existence for not already knowing this. “Can we pig out on ice cream and watch Bridesmaids now?”
“You know, this is why you’re my favorite ginger.”
Me: I need to see you.
Roman: Anytime, beautiful.
Me: Not too soon?
Roman: Never.
Me: Getting a ticket.
Roman: Cool, babe. Lookin forward to it.
As the wheels touch down on the runway, I feel my nerves bubbling up in my gut. I could throw up. I’m not sure if it’s the turbulence we just went through or my nerves. Maybe both. I’m puking 24/7 it feels like, thanks to Roman’s infant I’m growing.
After what feels like an eternity, the flight attendant finally announces for everyone to grab their overhead bags and exit the plane. Once I make it past the gate, I stuff my envelope into my back pocket, careful not to bend it too much.
Caught up in making sure I don’t mess it up, and keeping the contents of my bag from spilling everywhere, I don’t even realize he’s standing behind me until his tattooed arms are wrapped around me.
He presses his lips to my neck, his warm breath giving my arms chills, my flesh breaking out with goose bumps. “Hey, beautiful girl.”
I spin around, and everything goes right out the window. All the nerves, all the uneasy feelings I’ve been having about the baby, it all vanishes when he’s around. “Roman!” I squeal. I’m slightly embarrassed that he’s turned me into this mushy, teenage-squealer version of myself.
“Feelin’ any better?”
Oh shit. I was until you asked me that. “Yeah, I missed you. I needed to be here.”
He grabs my bags and hand like always and kisses my fingers, which are intertwined with his. “Well, let’s get a move on then. Got lots to make up for since you’ve been sick.”
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “What?”
My shorts are on the floor from our rendezvous when we first got here, envelope still in the pocket. I scurry over to them and pluck it out of the pocket with shaky fingers. I shove it at him, words failing me, heart in my throat.
Roman takes a swig of his beer and sets it down on the table. With his thumb, he flips the flap up on the envelope that holds the picture of our baby. “Babe? You’re really pregnant?”
I nod because it’s all I can manage.
He blows out a long sigh. “Come here.” He extends his arm and pulls me into him, leaning against the counter. “How did this happen? I mean, I thought you couldn’t get pregnant?” I briefly explained the situation about not having any kids in the heat of the moment when he asked if I was on the pill one of the first times we were together, but it never went any further than that.
“You’re seriously asking me how this happened?” Shamefully, I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me.
“Babe, I’m just tryin’ to take it all in.”
“I don’t know.” This isn’t going well at all, and I feel like shit. I knew he wouldn’t want this. And now I’m here, in his kitchen, throwing it in his face.
It all happens so fast. One minute I’m in the middle of a breakdown, the next Roman’s carrying me down the hall, into the bathroom. He sets me down on my feet in the middle of the shower.
Water running and fully clothed, he steps in with me. He bends down to me, his forehead touching mine. “I love you, babe.” It’s barely a whisper over the water, but I hear it. I can’t even say it back, the rush of my heartbeat in my ears is too strong.
Roman pulls my soaking wet T-shirt up and over my head, throwing it into a heap onto the shower floor. Then my bra follows suit. He leaves my panties on, pushing me against the cold tile of the shower wall. His tattooed fingers brush across my stomach, his palm resting flat against the living, breathing life growing in my belly. “We’re really doing this?”
“I wasn’t sure how to handle this situation…. I… didn’t know how you would feel. FaceTime didn’t seem appropriate.” I look up at him through my wet hair and the water droplets steadily misting down my face. I’m thankful for that, thankful that the water hides some of my emotion.
He doesn’t say anything, just trails gentle kisses along my collarbone. He reaches over and squirts some soap on a rag and lathers me up all over. I step out of my panties, and he hands me the rag. When he ducks under the water to wash his hair, I finish washing off and do the same to him that he did to me, running the soapy rag over his torso, admiring his gorgeous artwork. I see this moment for exactly what it is. A cleanse to was
h away my worries and destroy all my fear.
“I love you too.” I surprise myself by saying it, almost not even recognizing my own voice. I haven’t said that to anyone besides Ryan in a long time.
“I know.” He smiles. A full-on, cocky, pearly white smile. Roman doesn’t take his eyes off me as he reaches around behind him and turns the showerheads off. He walks around the tile wall and lays my towel over it, turning around to give me some privacy, I assume. I take advantage of the moment and gather my thoughts to pull myself together.
When I walk around the shower, Roman is standing there wrapped in his white towel, hair scruffy, beard dripping water droplets onto the floor. I can’t stop staring.
I wrap my towel around me and rush over to him. He hugs me hard, the type of hug you never want to let go of, the type that leaves you breathless.
“How far along are you?” he asks.
“Not very. I’m due in December.”
Roman nods. “We’ll make it work. Don’t worry that pretty little head so much.”
I roll my eyes. “If only I was like Roman Blackhart. So easygoing, without a care in the world.”
His face hardens, barely, but I catch it. “Got plenty of cares, babe.” He lets go of me and turns away. Something in his demeanor changed. I don’t like it.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He turns back to me and cocks an eyebrow. “Me? I’m good. You should get some rest. It’s been a long day for you.” I study him for a moment, looking for any sign of uncertainty. He schools it well if there is any, because I can’t find it.
“Okay. I just need to use the bathroom. I’ll be out in a minute.” And with that, he walks out of the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.
Conversation over.
For now.
I’m just finishing wrapping the box when Leylah walks out of the bathroom. It looks like shit because I wrapped it and have no skills there, but after the day she had, I figured I’d give it to her early. Figured she could use some cheerin’ up.