If I have something horrible, but curable, hopefully I can convince him to at least let me stay until I have more money saved. If it’s really bad, I have to be ready for the worst. I reach for the soap and instantly recognize it as Irish Spring, then have to use his AXE shampoo. Turning off the water, I step out and wrap the towel around me. The sound of a woman’s voice makes me freeze.
“Let me get this straight. You got your girlfriend pregnant? How is that possible? You are always so careful.” The woman’s voice is strong and clipped. She sounds like a bitch.
“Hilary, she assured me that she was sterile. Her appendix burst when she was a kid and they said the bacteria spread to her tubes causing her not to be able to get pregnant,” Jason snaps.
Hilary? Not doctor something, but Hilary? Tossing aside my towel, I reach for one of the dresses in my bag. It’s powder blue and matches my eyes. I slip on some panties and go braless since it has a racerback. Tentatively I follow the voices.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself. I’ve known you since you were a kid. You never trust anyone. All the club sluts want to trap you.” I wince at her horrible, direct approach. Tiptoeing, I take a look at his house. It’s fucking amazing, like I never want to leave amazing. At the end of the small hallway, I gaze at the huge open floor plan. The house sits so that you have a view of the Valley and some palm trees. The morning traffic looks like ants crawling along the highway. Again, there’s barely anything in the house other than the view and a cherry-colored wooden deck. And one L-shaped black leather couch with a large flat screen. The hardwood floors are so clean and shiny I can see my reflection.
“She’s not a club slut.” He sighs. “Just find out for sure and don’t say anything until I decide what I’m doing.”
They must be in the kitchen because I don’t see them as I toss my wet hair back and walk into the great room. A large fireplace on the side of the room sends a tingle of excitement through me at the thought of sitting next to Jason watching the flames. I’ve never actually seen a real fireplace much less felt one, but that’s what it looks like on TV.
With a sigh, I turn and gasp, my stomach fluttering as I stare at a pair of piercing green eyes. His arms are crossed and he wears one of his dark T-shirts. My eyes travel down his body to his bare feet and I have to close my eyes so he doesn’t see how much he affects me.
“Hilary? Come meet Eve,” he bellows.
A dark-haired woman in her forties, I guess—although it’s hard to tell given her striking looks—steps forward. Tall and stylish, she wears a blouse with dark trousers and high-heeled pumps. Her hair is in a bun and she sports stylish librarian glasses. Everything about her reeks self-confidence and wealth.
We both stare at each other. As she drinks a cup of coffee, her gaze travels the length of me and back.
“Well.” She takes another sip, then sets it down. “I’m Dr. Hilary Gordon and I’m here to see why you haven’t been feeling well.”
I lift my head and straighten my shoulders as I watch Dr. Hilary smile and shake her head at Jason.
“So, tell me everything.” She turns toward the kitchen, her heels echoing on the hardwood floors.
I cross my arms and snap, “I’m not pregnant.” My face is on fire as I spin toward Jason. “I can’t have children. Sorry to disappoint you, but you’re not going to be a father.” The woman walks back in carrying a cup and a plastic-looking stick, wand, whatever.
“Yes, Jason was telling me that. Your appendix burst at what age?”
“Twelve.” I roll my eyes and walk over to the window and look out at the city.
“I need you to pee in this cup.” She hands it to me and I see her wrist bearing the Disciples brand. My eyes jerk up to hers. What the fuck? If she notices, she doesn’t show it. In fact her pretty face is all business. I take the cup. Her perfume smells like flowers and I instantly back away.
“Where’s the bathroom? Or do you want me to squat?” That gets a finely waxed eyebrow raised at me and a snort from Jason.
“Angel, before you use the second door to your right, why don’t you tell the doctor what you think it is.” He’s behind me and heat radiates from his body into mine. He sweeps my hair onto my shoulder, his thumb lightly stroking my brand. He does this a lot. Whenever he feels I, or anyone else, need to be reminded.
I lean into him and his smell makes my stomach calm rather than churn.
“I’m worried it might be cancer,” I spit it out, hating that it sounds hollow and slightly echoes in the large empty white room.
Suddenly his arms are around me, pulling my back to his chest. His strong hands lie on my stomach.
“Yes, she thinks it might be that serious. So maybe you should take blood?” The doctor looks from me to him and rolls her eyes.
“The test is good enough, Jason, but sure, if you want one hundred percent…” She spins on her heels and goes back into the kitchen.
“How you holding up?” His mouth is at my ear and I shiver for numerous reasons. First, he’s scaring me with his attitude and somewhat robotic king-like behavior and second, he’s being condescending again.
“Go pee in the cup, baby, then she’ll take your blood and we’ll know which doctor you need to see.” He kisses the top of my head and pulls me toward the bathroom.
I shut the door, sit on the toilet seat, and want to cry, which I hate—I’ve never been a crying girl and actually prided myself on never shedding a tear. But it’s all changed since I’ve gotten with Jason—or Blade because that’s who he is right now. Jason vanished after he came inside me this morning. Blade emerged right after. I wish I had my knife on me, although what I would do with it is anyone’s guess. A bang on the door makes me jump.
“Are you done?” Blade’s voice leaks in. He’s not yelling, but he doesn’t have to. Power bleeds out of him.
“Almost.” I lift the toilet seat and quickly pee in the cup, wash my hands, and open the door to a waiting Blade. His eyes sweep me and then his bathroom. Like I’m hiding someone in there to pee for me.
“Here.” I shove the cup of piss at him. He doesn’t take it and his full lips smile as he moves aside so I can exit.
“Hilary? She’s ready,” he yells. Dr. Hilary walks out talking on her phone and motions for me to give her the cup. Which I do, somewhat fascinated that she doesn’t miss a beat in the conversation as she rips open the stick and dunks it in my pee then whirls around for her large designer bag.
“Hold on, George.” She looks at me. “Sit.” She sets the pee on the coffee table as she goes back to her phone and George I guess. Suddenly her cold hands are efficiently wrapping a rubber band around my arm and our eyes lock for a moment. Hers dark, mine light, but she looks rather impressed or maybe I’m crazy and seeing things. The needle goes into my vein as she continues to talk. Blade strokes my hair as she fills two vials with my dark red blood. Straightening, she sticks them in a plastic bag and tells George goodbye before reaching for the pee and the stick.
I think I might have stopped breathing because she looks at me and up at Blade.
“Well? Is she dying?” It’s a sneer and I instantly stand.
“No, she’s pregnant. I have to go. I’ll have the bloodwork back in a couple of hours.” She grabs her bag, reaches for her keys, and nods at us.
“I’ll show myself out.” Her highs heels click and she’s gone before I can laugh in her face. Gone before I can scream, “That’s impossible!” Gone and I’m left with a man who hasn’t uttered a sound. And I think for the second time in my life Blade might kill me.
BLADE/JASON
She lied.
I take in her pale appearance and wait to see how this is going to play out. Her breasts, which are already twice their normal size, heave. She licks her lips as if she’s thirsty.
I’d like to say I’m shocked, but then I’d be a liar. I suspected as soon as Axel said she threw up at the club. It’s finally happened—I knocked someone up. For some strange reason that I won’t dive int
o right now, I’m kind of the opposite of upset and I almost smile. But I don’t need my little gypsy rat to know that her con has worked. I was already going to make her my queen but now I’m gonna lock her down forever.
“Blade,” she whispers, and I cock my head. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name from her perfect lips. She shakes her blond head—her golden tresses fill my house with color.
“I swear I can’t get pregnant. There has to be a mistake.” She looks as though she might faint, so I reach for her and drag her into my kitchen, dump her in a chair, and pour her some orange juice. Slamming it down in front of her, I flinch as she shrieks and tears pool in her eyes.
“I… it can’t be—”
“Shut up, Eve. I know you.” I grasp the side of the table, leaning into her. “You can try to lie your way out of this, but it’s pointless. I’ve knocked you up. Deal with it. I was already making you my ole lady. Now you’ll be my baby momma too.” Pushing off the table, all I want her to do is acknowledge that she trapped me. She stares out the window almost lost and wide-eyed.
“Are you… I mean, I thought you didn’t want children.” Her voice is shaky. “Because I would never… I swear I don’t know how it’s possible. You need to believe me.” She looks up at me, and her big blue eyes blink at me with fear and sincerity.
Such a smart, conniving liar. I’ve come to know her: what makes her tick, how she thinks, what makes her scared, and what she wants more than anything. And that’s security. She craves it like a baby needs milk. She wants me to take care of her dad and she wants me.
And what’s more, I know, know in my heart she knew exactly what she was doing. But hey, I have to give it to her. No other woman has ever gotten me so crazy with desire that I lost sight of what I was doing like wrapping up my dick. I took her word and truly believed she was perfect since I never wanted kids and she can’t—well, couldn’t—have them. I’ve killed men for looking at me wrong, yet I have to hold back a smile at her. She sits so dejected I can’t wait to hear what she says next. It’s almost laughable, except that she’s right—I don’t want kids. They don’t fit into my life.
“So, you want it?” Her cheeks are flushed pink and her hands slightly shake as she brings the juice to her lips.
“No. I can’t stand kids actually. I mean some are cool, but I’m not father material. You did this, so you’ll be raising him. I’ll stop in and say hello on birthdays and shit, but other than that—”
She jumps up and grips the table as if to steady herself. “Are you telling me that you’re dumping me with your kid to raise on my own?” Her voice cracks.
I move directly in front of her and look her straight in those baby blues. “I’m saying exactly that. I. don’t. want. kids! I’m the president of a motorcycle club, Eve. Grow the fuck up. You did this. Now you get to deal with it.”
Her breathing is harsh as the tears slide down her cheeks. She looks up at the ceiling and back at me.
“I thought… I lov…” She swallows and clears her throat, all signs of the tears gone. “I thought you needed me. But all you are is a scared, pathetic thug who kills and sells drugs.”
Badass. She stares at me, her eyes swimming with tears but almost glowing with an I want to kill you look. My eyes narrow and I rub the back of my neck. My head is throbbing. She needs to know the truth. I can’t have her as a liability. I’ll make her my ole lady, move her in here, and that’s where it ends.
“Oh my God.” She spins in her pretty dress and flip-flops and runs back toward my bedroom. The door slamming makes my heart squeeze and I hate it. I look at her chair where she sat seconds ago and at her barely touched juice. For a second I have to force myself to stay strong. “Fuck.” I reach for my cigarettes and call Axel.
“Yeah?” he grunts into the phone. Axel thinks phones are evil, so he always sounds like a dick.
“Eve’s pregnant.”
Silence then a long sigh. “I knew it, I told you…”
“Meet me at the—” Suddenly I stop. I’m not actually going to leave Eve alone and pregnant. I’m a dick but not that much of a dick. “I need to go check on her.”
“Blade?”
“Yeah?” Glancing around my empty house, I wonder what it would look like with a family.
“I know I’m not her biggest fan, but I think she’s good for you. It’s only a matter of time before we find our other halves, and she’s yours, man. And if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it.”
I look down at my bare feet and take a breath. “She lied. I know she’s lying, and for some fucked-up reason that turns me on.”
Axel chuckles. “Yeah, you’re fucked. Make it work, man. I don’t want your job.”
Silence surrounds me as I let his words sink in. He doesn’t want it, I don’t want it, but in a way I do. It’s my birthright and my father, brother, and grandfather deserve more than a pussy-ass dumbass running from his shit.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. I might leave Eve here.”
“Whatever you need to do, man. And hey…”
“What?”
“Congratulations.”
I don’t say anything and hang up. Axel will get it. This is all fucked and I need to think. Ripping open my wooden cabinets, I grab a bottle of whiskey, unscrew it, and take a guzzle. Lack of food and the fact that it’s barely noon make me put it back. I pick up the phone and order a pizza and some hot wings, and then tell the guy to make sure the pizza is well done, since that’s the way Eve likes it. I go outside and smoke again and try to figure out what to say to her. She said she loved me. Loves me. Can either one of us truly love? I take a long drag and hold it. The warmth of the liquor and this cigarette have helped. My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I pull it out. “Well?” I say to Hilary.
“She’s pregnant. I’ve emailed you names of a couple of incredible ob-gyns. I’m at the hospital. I have to go.”
“Thanks, Hilary.”
“Your old man would be over the moon to be a grandfather. Congratulations.”
“Too bad us McCormick men can’t seem to live to be older than fifty, huh?” I say and hang up. Hilary got with my old man when… shit I don’t even think she was seventeen. He put her through school and even paid for her to become a surgeon. She always held out hope that he would one day do what he promised her and leave my mom. She’s a good doctor and has stitched me and my boys up more times than I care to admit. I pay her a shit ton of money and she does what my dad spent a fortune on getting her trained to do. Other than that, I get sick of her thinking because she fucked my old man for years she’s like a second mom and shit. I have my mom, and she’s not perfect, but I think she is. So I tend to only use Hilary when absolutely needed. Today I wanted a female, since I needed Eve to feel comfortable.
The doorbell rings and I toss my cigarette in an ashtray, making a mental note to order some more outdoor furniture. The grass and view are peaceful. Eve will like it.
I pay for the pizza and wings and seriously consider bringing in the bottle of whiskey I was drinking from. Instead I stand outside my own bedroom door hands full of food, wondering how best to deal with my life.
“Fuck it.” I throw open the door. She sits on the edge of the bed. She’s changed from the dress to gray jeans with holes in the knees and a tight white T-shirt that says Groovy across her tits. And she’s frantically typing on her phone. Other than her fingers gliding over the phone like a pianist, she seems calm, which of course puts me on alert. I look around.
“I need furniture,” I say.
I have no choice but to put the pizza on my bed—it’s either that or the floor. She crosses her legs and gives me her back.
What the fuck? A half an hour ago she was weeping and now she acts like I’m beneath her, not even acknowledging me. My neck clenches and I roll it hearing it crack.
“Eat,” I demand. She still types, but this time she looks at me. Her eyes are puffy but her cheeks are pink and her lips are dark red. She’s so beautiful for a
moment I hope we have a girl: a little girl who looks like her mommy.
“I’m assuming I can get a second opinion?” She snaps and stands. My eyes dip to her chest—her tits are nothing short of amazing.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be seeing the best tomorrow morning.” I flip open up the box of pizza. The aroma of sausage and pepperoni permeates the room.
“You need to eat.” I pull out a piece of gooey pizza. She stares at me then turns and looks out the window.
“Eve, it wasn’t an invitation. You will eat.” Chewing the spicy sausage and pepperoni, I use my pants as a napkin. She stares at me as if I’m the disappointment in her life, which I should not care about. Instead I swallow my mouthful and say, “Fine. Don’t eat. I guess I can call—”
“Stop.” She holds her hands over her ears. “I can’t handle you torturing me about my father. Or that I trapped you,” she screams in my face, her voice trembling as she holds back the tears that want to spill down her flushed cheeks. Jesus Christ, she’s like a fierce little lion cub and my dick instantly gets hard.
“Eve.” I rub my chest almost as if I’m trying to block my heart from her. “I need you to be honest. It’s done. You won, Angel. I’m going to support you and your father forever, okay?”
She stares at me then bites her bottom lip as she looks at the ceiling. “You honestly think I wanted to trap you?” The accusation in her eyes makes me lose it.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I yell. “Christ, it was bound to happen sometime.” Her face pales and it’s like I can’t help hurting her since for some reason her lack of joy, or not doing what I want, makes me angry. I shrug. “I’m sure this one won’t be my last accident.”
She looks like I’ve slapped her, and I guess I have. That was a shit thing to say since I don’t want anyone but her. Jesus, I have no control around her.
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