Page 5

Gabby

I look around the small dairy bar and frown. To be honest, I’m sick of diners. If you work in one, you don’t want to eat at one either. Still, I’m thinking right now that a diner would be better than sitting on a picnic table under an umbrella with King staring at me while munching on his burger.

He took me to urgent care and sat in the lobby while they checked me out.

When I came back outside, the nurse with me assured him I was doing fine.

I gave him my I-told-you-so look and he gave me his grouchy face.

Now, we’re here. We’ve not talked a lot.

I don’t know why he’s not talking. As for myself, I don’t know what to say to King.

He’s the only one besides Nicole who completely knows my past and took the time to be really nice to me when I felt like I was drowning.

That’s big—huge, really. I don’t want to fuck it up and my history is enough to show that I only know how to do one thing—and that’s fuck everything up.

“What?” he prompts, making me realize that I’m staring at him. Crap.

“I told you this was a waste of time,” I mutter.

I’m being bitchy and I shouldn’t. King was just worried and being nice by taking time out of his day to make sure me and the baby were okay.

It doesn’t change the fact that I came when I didn’t want to.

It’s hard enough working when I feel like crap.

Not being able to rest afterward has made this day very, very long.

“And you keep telling me,” King responds, after taking a bite of his burger. I feel guilty, because if I think about it, I have said it a lot. Weirdly, he doesn’t seem upset. His eyes are sparkling, almost as if he finds me funny.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “I’m just really tired.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re trying to do too much. Besides, you’re not that far along. You should be off your feet. The first trimester is when babies are at risk the most. You need to make the father step up and do his part and quit trying to do everything.”

I blink. “How do you know that?”

“Married to a nurse. Was planning on putting my kid in her, building a life. She decided she wanted that life, but not with a man like me.”

“I think we already determined she was an idiot in our previous conversations. I just didn’t know she was a nurse in addition to being crazy and a bitch.” His lips twitch, but I keep going. “And I should know. Once upon a time, I was the queen of bitches.”

“I think that’s been mentioned,” he says with a chuckle, popping a french fry in his mouth.

“I bet,” I grumble. “Anyway, do you have Shelby’s address?”

His body jerks, as his eyebrows shoot up so much I wonder if they’re going to invade his hairline. “What the fuck for?” he almost snarls.

“So that I can forward my Bitch of The Century sash and tiara to her. I’m comforted knowing she’ll take over my previous reign. It will be my final goodbye to the dark side. Once that’s done, I can rest as I try to defect into anonymity.”

He stares at me a moment and then throws his head back, letting laughter roar out of him. “That shit is funny right there,” he says, once he has a little control. He still does it laughing while shaking his head at me.

“Anyway, you don’t need to worry about me or the baby. Me and jellybean are fine. We’re going to forge our own way in this world and build a good life,” I assure him, praying that I’m right.

He tilts his head, looking at me. “So, you hooked yourself up with a deadbeat. I want his name. I don’t have a crown for him, but I think I need to make him see the error of his ways.

You’re what? Three months along? Asshole can start towing the line and if he doesn’t, I’ll stick around to make sure he does. ”

“King—”

“Saying that, I mean, only paying support and your medical bills. You don’t need a man like that in your life. You’ll be connected through the kid, but if you’re going to hitch your wagon to a man, you need to make sure that man is the type that will take care of you?—”

“King, I?—”

“Not leave your ass swinging in the wind, knocked up and working extra shifts as a waitress to try to pay the bills.”

“King!”

“Now that we have that sorted, what’s the bullshit about you moving to Denver?”

“It’s not bullshit. I’ve always wanted to visit the Rocky Mountains.

I need a place to start over. I don’t want to be around people who remember the me I used to be.

I don’t want my son or daughter to live in an area where they will hear shit about me.

I won’t hide who I used to be from my child when it is time for them to know, but I don’t want my past constantly thrown up to them or me.

Besides, it’s for the best that I leave. ”

“And this numbnut that knocked you up? Does he have a problem with you moving halfway across the damn country?”

I have a choice here. I can let King continue to think there’s some unknown party out there—which is what I intend to do with my parents—or tell him the truth. The easiest choice is option number one. King, however, deserves better than that.

“I’m nearly seven months pregnant, King,” I respond quietly.

“What?” he barks, staring at me. It feels like his eyes are penetrating me, slipping into the deepest recesses of my mind and finding out everything about me—every tiny thing.

“There will be no baby daddy. I’m pretty sure he’s rotting in hell and to prove I am still a bitch, that thought brings me comfort. Me and Jellybean are having just a party of two,” I tell him, rubbing my stomach. “Colorado sounds nice.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Gabby.”

I wince at first. This is one reason I didn’t want to talk about my pregnancy.

It’s also why I’m going to let my parents come to their own conclusion.

I just haven’t figured out how to tell them yet.

I’m finding more and more that when it comes to dealing with my father, I’m a chicken.

In my defense, there’s only so much hate, disappointment, and bitterness you can take when it’s aimed at you by a man you love and thought would always be in your corner.

Sure, I know I fucked up, but I’m his daughter.

I expected him to be mad, to give me hell.

I even knew he’d be grieving. I just didn’t expect him to come at me with indifference, blame, and disgust. Okay, well maybe I halfway expected the disgust.

“Don’t, King,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

I put my hands in my lap to hide the fact that they’re trembling.

It’s all I can do not to cry, but I will not allow myself to do that.

I’ve cried enough. I have to be strong. My child needs that from me.

“I don’t want you to feel pity for me. I don’t want that from anyone, but especially you. ”

“Sweetheart—”

I stop him with just the shake of my head. “I’m okay,” I tell him. If I say it enough, one day I will believe it. At least that’s my plan. “You don’t need to feel sorry for me. I don’t want that from anyone, but especially you.”

He studies me for a minute. I try to ignore him by pushing my coleslaw around in its bowl—studiously ignoring him watching me. “Why did you decide to keep the baby? Most in your place wouldn’t have.”

I shrug. “I took the morning-after pill the club doctor gave me after we were rescued. There are a few reasons they don’t always take. It didn’t for me. So, when the doctor told me I was pregnant, I knew I had a decision to make. I could have an abortion or have the baby. I chose the baby.”

“Why?”

“That’s harder to explain. I am mostly alone in this world.

This baby doesn’t have anyone either. He or she didn’t ask to be here and wasn’t the one who hurt me.

This baby— my baby— needs me and honestly, I need the baby.

I’m going to be a mother and I’m going to do everything in my power to be a good one. ”

“You can’t be a good mom if you run yourself ragged just trying to create a home for the kid.”

“I’m just working hard until I can put enough money back so I can move to Denver.”

He leans in and he studies my face. I’m not sure what he sees, but I get the feeling he’s not happy with it. I allow myself a minute to take him in, too. He’s not changed in the last few months. Then again, I don’t suppose he needed to. He knows who he is and embraces it.

King is a good-looking man. He’s massive.

His body is chiseled and firm everywhere you look.

His dark skin taut and well-defined. There are scars and loads of ink everywhere.

It just makes him even better. He’s also imposing.

You can definitely tell he has Dragon’s blood running through his veins.

The flip side of that is you can also tell he doesn’t have the same mother as T or Dom.

There’s a gentleness in their features. A softness that both appealed and intrigued me at the same time.

Their thick eyelashes and dimple or chin cleft—whatever it was—it was as sweet as it was sexy.

King? There’s no sweet to be found. He’s not only rough around the edges—he’s jagged.

It’s as if he’s been dipped and bathed in all caveman energy.

It exudes from him. He’s a bull in a China shop and the man is not going to make excuses for it.

There’s a frank honesty about him that is a little frightening.

Still, he showed me kindness when there was really none to be found anywhere around.

He listened and didn’t judge. I’ll forever be grateful to him.

In a way, his gentleness gave me the courage to keep my child and rebuild my future—to make it better than my past. There’s good in this decision.

King is proof of that, and one way or another, I’m going to make sure my child gets to drink from that good.

I want him or her to get their fill. Rubbing my stomach, I'm lost in thought. I do that semi-smiling, because I know I’m on the right path.

“What the fuck is in Denver?”

King’s question jars me.

“Huh?”

“What’s in Denver? There has to be a reason you picked it, Gabby.”

“I’ve always been in love with the pictures I’ve seen from there.

When I was in school, a friend of mine and her family went there for vacation, and I thought the scenery in the background of her photos was so beautiful that it had to be close to what Heaven would be.

Back when Dom and I were good—before he began moving on a different path and I lost my mind—I used to tell him about how much I longed to see the Rocky Mountains.

I told him how I wanted to take it all in and experience it.

He promised to take me on the back of his bike, just the two of us.

He told me when he got solid with the club and things were settled, he’d take me. ”

“So, moving to Denver is tied up in some fantasy you created with Dom?” he says, staring at me, his face closed off.

I frown, so annoyed I can feel my forehead crinkling with the force of the scowl that takes over my face.

“Of course not,” I hiss. I might have expected that kind of response from anyone in the world, but not King.

I thought he got me. Of anyone, I felt he truly would understand my decision.

I guess my dream that there were people who would understand me and not make knee-jerk assumptions was wrong.

Damn it. There’s another lesson for me to file away.

“Then, what is it, Gabby?”

“Gee, I don’t know, King. Why are you here? Why were you in North Carolina? Why aren’t you back in Virginia?”

His mouth gets tight, but I think I see understanding dawning on his face. I push my plate away. I’ve had enough. I had enough when I was cornered into going to the doctor and now, I’ve really had enough. “Can we go? I’m worn out and I really just want to go home and lay down.”

“Gabby—”

“I’m serious, King. I’ve had enough today.”

His face tightens. There’s a muscle along his jawline that keeps jerking.

I can feel his temper, but he’s reining it in.

It wouldn’t matter either way. I wasn’t kidding.

I really am done. He apparently decides to take me at my word and nods his head.

He gets a box for my untouched food and pays our bill.

I’d offer him money for my part, but since I didn’t want it and he made me order something, I don’t really feel the inclination to do so.

“Jesus. Why are women so fucking difficult?” he gripes, as he helps me to stand.

He puts a hand on my back as he leads me toward the vehicle.

His other one is holding my barely touched food.

I think his question was merely something directed at himself, but still, I feel the need to reply, and I do by giving him the honest-to-God’s-truth.

“Because men make us that way,” I huff, getting into the car and wishing this day was over already.

Then I realize if King is going to hang around for a few days, I need to move into my rental sooner.

I don’t want to wait till the end of the week.

That is six days away. I need gone now. It’s time to dip into my reserves and just put it back in when I get paid.

I’ll get Lottie and Iris to help me move.

Then I can hide in my little house and not have to deal with King or his moods or questions.