Page 10

10

O ne of the annoying things about being pregnant is that I have to pee more frequently now. It’s driving me a little crazy to be honest. I swear I’m peeing more out than I’m drinking, and I can’t make sense of it.

Maybe one day, if I’m lucky to do my nursing degree, I’ll figure it out. I think I’d like to be a midwife. I feel like I’d be good at that.

Whispering has me hesitating to step back into the living room we all crashed in last night. I can hear Ringo’s deep voice floating down the hall from the kitchen. He’s talking with Ayden’s parents and JD, I think. And maybe Mr Foster.

I still can’t wrap my head around that one.

But the whispering inside the living room gives me pause, because I kind of suspect it’s about me.

Just the thought has my gut twisting, and it has nothing to do with my baby .

Leaning closer to the door, I try to catch what’s being said, and it’s Marcus’ voice rising above the others that gives away his anger.

“Why would she willingly have her rapist’s child?”

The words hit me like a backhand, hard and sharp.

Before I can stop myself, I barge into the room, every fear I had about people’s opinions now slapping me straight in the face.

“Tell me you didn’t just say that?” I snap, and all eyes whip to me.

All nine of them are huddled on the mattresses in the centre of the room. No doubt, the second Ringo and I left, barely five minutes ago, they started gossiping.

Whispering.

Judging.

“Abs,” Lexi starts, standing quickly, but I shake my head, locking my glare on Marcus.

He’s someone I thought of as one of my closest friends for years. But I guess my choices burned that bridge, and now here we are.

“I’m not talking to you, Lexi. I’m talking to Marcus,” I bite, stepping further into the room like I’m readying myself to face a firing squad.

“I’m not trying to be insensitive, Abs. I just don’t understand it,” Marcus admits, standing too.

I can at least appreciate his honesty. If he’d made up some excuse about being caught out, I’d never trust him again. But even though I hate his question, I can see the concern etched across his expression.

“Here’s the thing. You don’t have to understand it. It’s not happening to you. It’s happening to me. All you need to do is support me.” I drag my gaze across all of my friends watching on.

“Part of being a friend is looking out for each other, though,” Simon chimes in.

He didn’t grow up with us, but he’s always had a way of making me laugh. Whether it’s with one of his really bad jokes, or by taking the piss out of himself. But this serious version of Simon? It’s new to me.

“So you think making me feel like shit for making the biggest decision of my life is looking out for me?”

“No.” Simon jumps up, leaping over Garrett’s legs to reach me. “I’d never want to make you feel like shit for that, Abs.”

“Look, I’m not saying I agree with Marcus’ opinion that this is wrong,” Shaun adds, standing to give his two cents, “but it might help us support you if we can understand how you came to the decision.”

I glare at Shaun Bossier, with all his pretty-boy Spanish charm, but right now, it’s the first part of his sentence that has my rage bubbling over.

“So you think me having this baby is wrong ?” I snap, eyes flicking back to Marcus, who sighs and throws a dagger in Shaun’s direction.

“I just worry that once you have it, you’ll resent it. That’s no way to raise a kid.”

He’s not wrong. It’s something I’ve thought about more times than I can count.

“I’m only gonna have this conversation once. After that, if you still have a problem with my decision, feel free to stay the hell out of my life.” I swallow hard, trying to clear the golf ball sized lump lodged in my throat.

Now is not the time for tears. Now is the time to prove to them, hell, even to myself, that I am more than just a broken girl that needed rescuing. That I’m more than what was done to me.

I am strong. I know that now.

And they need to see it too, if they’re ever going to believe I can be a good mum to this baby.

Stepping over the bodies on the mattresses, Lexi moves to my side and takes my hand. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Abs. I’m with you, no matter what.”

Dammit. Here come the tears.

No.

NO!

Back off, you salty little buggers. You don’t belong here.

Giving my hand a squeeze, Lexi rests her head against my shoulder, while Rhys leaps up and comes to my other side, offering me a smile.

“I’ve always wanted to be an aunty.”

I can’t help but smile back.

This girl is quirky as hell, but she’s loyal and caring, and I can see why Lexi adores her.

Turning my attention back to the boys, and Dee, who doesn’t seem to be paying much attention, yet I get the feeling she’s watching every single move and taking in every single word, storing it away in her vault.

“I’ve thought a lot about what I should do. For weeks, I knew I was pregnant, well before I could confirm it. And in that time, I’ve asked myself over and over whether I should go through with it… or abort.”

Marcus slowly lowers himself back down to the mattress, his brown eyes glued to me like I’m the only person in the room .

“Not that I could’ve aborted,” I continue. “Not without asking my parents for help, and we all know how that would have gone. Especially with my mum trying to force me to marry Daniel, even after I told her what he did. I didn’t tell her about all of them, but she knew what Daniel was doing, and still, she was adamant that I marry him.”

My cheeks flush with shame, and I shuffle my feet, my flight mode testing my resilience.

What happened to me isn’t my fault, I know that. But shame lingers, carved into my bones, etched into my soul like it’s permanent.

“So yeah, I was on my own. And I knew I’d have to go through with it unless I tried to abort it myself. But you know what? I never once looked up how to do that. Not once. I never really considered it. I just knew I was going to have this baby, whether I wanted to or not.”

Lexi gives my hand a squeeze as my voice wobbles. It’s hard saying this stuff out loud. For so long, it’s been just me and my own thoughts, running loops around each other.

“So what are my options then? Would I give my baby up? Keep it and raise it alone? What if my little baby resembles his or her father? What if every time I look at my child, all I see is my rapist?”

I pause, clearing my throat, pushing my emotions down deep where they can’t touch me right now.

“The thing is, it doesn’t matter the way I conceived this baby. What matters is the life I choose to give him or her that means everything .”

“But the father…” Marcus blurts out, and I glare at him .

“Means nothing.” I slap my free hand against my chest. “ I am this baby’s mother. It doesn’t matter who the father is, because I’m still the mother , and I will love this child with all of my heart and raise it right, without any taint from a sperm donor who’s gonna be dead soon enough.”

A few of the guys look surprised at that last part, but not Marcus.

Even if he’s not on board with me having this baby, I know he’d tear Daniel and his scum mates apart with his bare hands if he got the chance.

“So the question is, can you put your feelings aside and support me, Marcus? Or is this where we part ways?”

His face falls, and shit, there are even tears in his eyes as he steps over his mates, beelining straight for me.

“Parting ways is not an option, Abs. Never. I’m just worried about you. But if this is what you want, then count me in.”

He pulls me into a hug, and I sink into it, his familiar scent wrapping around me like a memory, taking me back to simpler times. Back when it was just me, him, Lexi and Jared. Back when dreams still felt possible.

Back before everything turned to shit.

In a matter of seconds, I’m wrapped in a full group hug, everyone but Dee and Ayden.

They are the newer additions to my group of friends, and I guess their part in this is really just supporting the ones they love, since they hardly know me.

Still, I have to give it to Ayden. He arranged for us to stay in his parents’ city apartment. He didn’t have to do that, and yeah, it was most likely to keep Lexi happy, but I’ll take it .

A throat clears from the doorway, and we all break apart. Ringo and JD stand there, filling the frame like giants, rough and rugged compared to my cleaner cut friends.

Hmmm. When did I start preferring the rough-around-the-edges look over clean cut?

“Andrea wants to take you to a private clinic to get a full checkup,” Ringo announces, and my brows shoot up as I glance at Lexi, whose eyes widen with excitement.

“She’s a nurse and has solid connections,” she beams. “It’s a great idea.”

Nodding, I turn back to Ringo to gauge if he thinks it’s a good idea too, but he just lifts a hand and crooks his finger.

Like the damn puppet I’ve become, I step away from my friends and move into his space, peering up at him.

“Shower and food,” he gives me a wink, “then we go to the clinic.”

“I like the sound of the food part.” JD grins, peeking over Ringo’s shoulder, and I laugh.

I’ve missed him. Jols too. The Western never felt like home, but some of the people there wormed their way into my heart before I realised.

Wendy though… If I ever see her again, I’ll… Well, I don’t know exactly what I’ll do, but I’ll do something.

Maybe.

Surely.

Ugh, who am I kidding. I’m not the type of girl to throw down. Not while pregnant, anyway. Maybe after, though.

Yes. Wendy better watch out once I pop this baby out. I’m coming for her.

Maybe …

Taking my hand, Ringo leads me out of the lounge and up to Ayden’s bedroom where he leads me straight into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

“Wash,” he commands, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the vanity.

I lift a brow.

“You gonna step out so I can do that?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“But—”

“Nope. Get in.”

I scoff, shutting the bathroom door and flicking the lock so no one else can barge in.

Turning back to him, I prop my hands on my hips.

“I’m not showering with you.”

He smirks. “No?”

My mouth drops open. “What is going on here?”

His eyes travel down my body, slowly and deliberately perusing me, as I stand there in his oversize tee and nothing else but a pair of undies underneath.

“What’s going on is you’re having a shower.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not getting naked in front of you, Ringo.”

He chuckles, pushing off the vanity, stalking towards me like a predator.

“Aren’t you? Why not?”

I back up instinctively, until my spine hits the cold white tiles, before my eyes dart nervously down to the door handle.

“You’re not afraid of me, Angel,” he rasps, stopping an inch from me. If I so much as breathe, my small bump and boobs will brush his chest.

His words make me pause .

Is he testing me?

Lifting my gaze to his, I catch the smirk tugging beneath his beard.

Am I afraid of him?

No.

Not even a little, but… am I afraid of something?

Yes.

“Expectations,” I blurt out, and he frowns.

“What?”

“I’m afraid of expectations.” He still looks confused, so I try to explain. “We kissed again last night… and I know you’re used to women who… you know… sleep with you easily, but—”

His finger presses to my lips, silencing me.

“I don’t expect anything from you, Angel.”

I raise a brow, and he chuckles softly, dropping his finger.

“Okay, so maybe I expect you to wash.”

“Oh… do I smell?”

He shakes his head. “No. But if I have to keep looking at you in nothing but my t-shirt, I’m gonna need some alone time in here.”

Even as my cheeks heat, I can’t help but smile. I love how he makes me feel wanted without making me feel pressured.

“Just so you know, I do have undies on under the shirt.”

His eyes narrow. “Not undies, Angel. Panties .”

Shit! Now my cheeks are on fire.

“Panties,” I breathe, agreeing without thought, and just like that, I’m almost ready to let him touch me again, the way he did in his bed that night. Letting me use his hand. His fingers.

Ringo’s whiskey eyes drop to my lips as he leans in closer, caging me in against the wall with one hand braced on the tiles above my head.

“Tell me to leave the room, Angel,” he rasps, his breath warm against my ear.

Oh dear lord, how am I meant to do that? I’m aching, probably worse than I was at the Western, and that scares me because I’m not ready to take another man into my body.

As much as I crave that connection, I know I’m not mentally there yet.

Still, I can’t find it in me to tell him to leave.

Steam fills the room from the shower I completely forgot was running, making my skin sticky and damp.

“I don’t want you to leave, but…”

“But?” he asks, easing back to lock eyes with mine.

“I’m not ready for you to see me naked.”

“Hmmm,” he hums, grazing the backs of his fingers down my cheek and along my throat. “I’m not ready for that either. When that happens, it’ll be somewhere we can’t be disturbed.”

My heart flips.

“But I want you to know, it wasn’t just my heart that ached when you ran from me, Angel. I’ve got enough pent-up tension filling my nuts to explode a fucking building. I’m looking forward to giving you another show some time soon.”

Ooooohhhh. I’ve missed this side of Ringo. The ruthless man. The same man who told my mum I was his and he’d do with me as he pleased. The very man who shamelessly stroked himself in front of his Southern Sadists brothers and half naked Doxies, all while his eyes stayed locked on me .

Is it wrong to be turned on by that kind of behaviour after everything I’ve been through?

Maybe.

Or, maybe not, because if there’s one thing I’ve come to appreciate about Ringo, it’s that he’s open about who he is.

Daniel. Donny. All those vile animals who took from me against my will, they walk through society like they’re decent humans. Like they give a crap. Like they are law-abiding citizens.

But really, they are worse than the outlaw members of the Southern Sadists. Because guys like Daniel Stone and Donny Allen hide who they really are.

Ringo? He lays it bare with every word. Every look.

Some might call it crude. Perhaps the old me would have too, because she was a naive little goody two-shoes.

But now? Now I’m drawn to his brutal honesty. Especially when it comes to sex.

If I’m ever going to get past what happened to me, I need that.

I need sex not to be taboo or something wrapped in shame.

Even though I like this version of Ringo, it doesn’t stop my breath hitching at his mention of another ‘show’.

My mind flashes back to the night he stripped in front of me, hand wrapped around his dick, giving me one hell of a show.

I touched myself under the sheet so he couldn’t see, but he knew what I was doing, and the moment he came, shooting his seed over the bed, I came too, for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Angel, what’s going through that head of yours right now?”

Dammit. I’ve been staring this whole time.

Can he see the hunger in my eyes ?

“You don’t want to know,” I breathe, and he lets out a low, raspy growl that makes my knees weak.

“I’ve got a feeling I do. But since we are where we are, it’ll have to wait.” He pulls me from the wall and slaps my arse, and I squeal as he points to the shower. “Now, get your cute arse in the shower.”

I shoot him a challenging glare, and all he does is raise a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, feet planted wide.

“All that look is doing is making me hard, Angel.”

I roll my eyes. “At least close your eyes or turn around, or I’m not taking your shirt off. I’ll wash in it if I have to, and then you’ll be stuck wearing a wet t-shirt all day.”

This time, when he growls, it’s laced with danger, and I worry he might actually pounce with the way he drops his hands from his chest.

“Get in the fucking shower, Angel. Now.”

And with that, he spins around to face the white tiled wall.

I giggle, because this is what I love about Ringo.

He’s dominating without making me feel small. If anything, I feel the opposite.

I feel alive.

Desired.

Worshipped.

And the crazy thing is, he’s barely even touched me.

God, I’ve missed him.

Running from him felt like torture. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t make sense of what was happening… and Wendy?

Yeah, I’ve changed my mind. The next time I see her, I’m going to tell her exactly what I think.

While Ringo is still facing the wall, giving me a fraction of privacy, I slip out of his tee and toss it at the back of his head.

He chuckles, dragging it off, but remains facing away, honouring my request.

When I step out of my panties, as he likes to call them, I brazenly toss them at his head too before darting into the shower and pulling the door shut, letting the frosted glass obscure my nakedness from him.

“Angel, you’re pushing my fucking limits,” he growls, and I giggle, already lathering shampoo into my hair.

Looking down at my bump, which seems to be getting a little bigger each day now, I wonder if he’d still find me attractive.

Surely this rounding belly isn’t sexy to him.

My boobs, though? He’d probably be into them. They are heavier, fuller than they have ever been. They make me feel womanly. So much less of a teenager, even though that’s exactly what I am.

As I rinse off, I hear Ringo talking to someone just outside the door, before he taps on the glass.

“Lexi has left some pants that Andrea ducked out to get for you. You should find them more comfortable than squeezing into the skirts you got from Leather and Lace.”

“She did?” I call over the sound of the running water, a wave of emotion rising in my chest from the unexpected kindness Ayden’s parents have shown.

“She did. The Mitchells are good people, Angel.”

“How did you meet them?” I ask, turning off the tap and tugging the towel down from the top of the screen to start drying myself .

“It was because of Muz. He was deep into gang life. Managed to work himself up the ranks. People were scared of my little brother, and with good fucking reason. He could flip like a switch. Was unpredictable as fuck. Was far too controlling of those under him.”

Ringo pauses, and I stop drying my skin for a moment to listen as he clears his throat.

“Ayden got sucked into that world because of a chick he was seeing, and when she died, mainly thanks to my dickhead brother and the hard drugs he pushed on everyone, Ayden lost it and beat him to within an inch of his life.”

I shove the door open, towel now wrapped around me, and stare at Ringo in disbelief.

“Ayden did that?”

He nods, his eyes briefly flicking down to the towel covering me.

“He did. I never blamed Ayden for it. Hell, it was deserved, if you ask me. Ayden ended up in juvie for a while… but Muz? He didn’t go down for a thing and spent his time plotting Ayden’s death. He didn’t take well to having his pride hurt.”

“Oh my God. Did Muz try to kill Ayden?”

Ringo nods as his eyes flick back down again like me standing in only a towel is a distraction.

I have to say, I’m thankful my baby bump isn’t much bigger or the towel may not have fit and I’d be flashing him more skin that I’m ready to expose to him.

“Muz tried. More than once. But I stepped in. That’s how I met Andrea and Peter. They had my number on speed dial, and any time Muz went after Ayden, I’d get a call and I’d drop everything to stop that little shit before he could finish the job. ”

“Shit,” I breathe, my brows lifting as I finally notice Ringo’s not wearing his leather vest anymore. When did that happen?

He’s standing in the steamy bathroom in nothing but his jeans, sitting low on his hips. No shirt, no shoes. Just tanned, tattooed skin and sooo much muscle.

“Eyes up, Angel,” Ringo chuckles, dragging me out of my daze with a knowing smirk, and I blink fast, shaking my head.

“Sorry.”

God, I feel like a creep.

“Don’t be sorry. Just maybe work on your poker face, because the way you were eye-fucking me isn’t helping this situation.”

That’s when he pops the button on his jeans, shoving the denim down to his knees, freeing his thick, hard erection.

I gasp and slap a hand over my eyes as he laughs.

“Sorry, Angel. Couldn’t help myself.”

He brushes past me and opens the shower door before stepping in and turning on the water.

What’s the female version of an erection?

Because whatever it is, I’ve got it.

I’m hot. Achy. Slick between my thighs. The temptation to open that door and join him is damn near unbearable.

Biting my lip, I stare at the shower, gaze locked on the dark silhouette of him standing beneath the stream of water.

Shit. Even though it’s blurry, I can still see enough that I can make out the dark patch of hair between his legs, and the curve of his butt as he turns under the water. I can still see the shape of him.

Oh my… could he see my outline?

My breasts?

My bump ?

My arse?

Did that sight make him want me still? Or did seeing it kill the mood?

“I can feel you watching me, Angel,” he rasps, and I gasp at getting sprung and spin to face away.