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CHAPTER EIGHT

Sean

I HAVE HAD zero luck tracking down Tara this past week. It’s making me an even grumpier asshole than I usually am. Now that I’ve decided that the baby and Tara are going to be mine, I can’t stop thinking about them. Wondering if Tara is having any morning sickness, or maybe some weird cravings. Has she gotten another sonogram done? Is our baby a boy or a girl? Is the apartment or house they live in safe? Is she dating anyone?

She better not be.

If she is, she won’t be for long.

Tara is mine. She doesn’t know it yet, but she will soon. As soon as I can fucking find her.

I know very little about my Tara. Last name Montgomery. Recent college graduate, no idea the school. Not originally from Chicago, no idea where her hometown is. Left the city for a job opportunity. No idea what company or market they are in.

Fuck. I have so much to learn.

I can’t wait.

Fuck. What is wrong with me?

Slumping forward, I allow my head to bang against my desk. My eyes hurt from scanning through various public records and files. I’m pulled from my pity party by a knock on the door. “Yeah.” I call out as I pick my head up.

Callum pokes his head in. “You coming to the meeting or what?”

“Shit.” I look at my watch. It’s already quarter after seven. I was supposed to meet with the guys in the conference room at seven. “Coming.”

Killian and Grady are already seated when we walk in. “Sorry. Lost track of time.”

I feel their eyes roaming over my wrinkled clothes. I didn’t bother with the jacket today, and my sleeves are rolled and pushed up to my elbows. It’s a far cry from my normal pressed three piece suits and thousand dollar cuff-links.

“You look like shit.” Comments Killian.

“Yeah. I know.” I reply.

Grady furrows his brow at me. “Who’s the girl?”

“Why do you think it’s a woman?” Killian and Callum laugh at that.

“We’ve known you for years, even the worst guest in your basement has never given you that look. And out of everyone in the room, I’m the only one who’s ever had a long term relationship. I know that look, because I’ve had that look.” Retorts Grady.

I need a drink for this.

I pour a shot and throw it back. Then pour another generous amount of whiskey and take it back to my seat. “I met someone. We uh…” Crap how do I explain this.

“Sean got a one night stand pregnant. When she came by to tell him, he basically called her a gold digging whore, and threw her out of the club.” Pipes in Callum.

“That is not how it went!” I bite back.

Callum smirks. “It’s the quick version.”

Killian leans forward in his chair. “I think we should hear the long version.”

I agree and proceed to spend the next twenty minutes telling them about our weekend together, her coming to tell me about the baby, finding Jessica poking holes in my condoms, and the research I’ve been doing to try and find her.

Callum decided to be fucking helpful again during my explanation and shares the concerns Tara brought up about the possibility of more of my kids being out there.

“This is probably the only time I can say that I am genuinely happy that I am infertile and don’t have to worry about any claims being truthful.” Killian admits happily.

Fucker. “Fuck you.” His reply is to laugh some more.

“Has Jessica been dealt with?” Asks Grady.

I nod. “Yeah, I had Keira run a blood test first to confirm she wasn’t already pregnant just in case. She wasn’t. So I let Keira give her a good slap, then had one of the boys drive her to the bus station with a warning not to come back to the city.”

“Do you think she will be a problem later?” Queries Killian.

“No. I checked.” I made sure our team dug deep. I don’t want anything screwing up my chances with Tara or biting me in the ass later. “She’s got no family left in the area, parents moved to Florida a few years ago. Also made sure she had no ties to Patrick. She didn’t.”

“Good.”

“I’ll speak to the Italians, see if Elena can assist with finding your woman.” Offer Killian.

“Thanks Kill. Appreciate it.”

The meeting proceeds like usual after that, and by the time it ends, we’ve been talking for three hours.

We say our good-byes and go our separate ways. Killian and Grady are going to the underground fighting match. Callum heads to his office to catch up on paperwork, and I head to mine to brood.

Thoughts of Tara are running rampant in my head.

Where is she?

Is she safe?

Is the baby ok?

How big is he? Or is it a she?

Tara would be about fourteen weeks now.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I pull out my phone and download one of the baby growth tracker apps.

A peach. The baby is the size of a peach.

From there I go down a rabbit hole. Somehow I end up at an online baby boutique with sixteen items in my cart, ranging from baby books, to blankets, bottles, to diapers. I have to catch myself before I hit checkout. I know nothing about babies. Why am I buying shit? I need to talk to my mom. I need her help. Shit. I’m going to need a nursery.

Wait. I should get Tara involved first. It’s her baby too.

Fuck. I need to know where she is in order to talk to her.

Even if I find her, she isn't going to want anything to do with me after the way I treated her.

Shit.

And once I do find her, it will only be a matter of time before word gets out that I’ve got a woman and kid. Patrick or the Cartel might try to go after them.

Damnit, I need to find her and convince her to come back to the city with me. I can protect them better here. The idea of telling her she’s moving get’s my cock’s attention. She won’t agree, or come quietly.

My girl is feisty and independent.

My girl. I like that. She and the baby are mine.

That reminds me….Tara left the sonogram picture the day she confronted me. I hadn’t looked at it after she left. I just grabbed it off the table and through it in a drawer here at my desk.

It takes me a minute of searching through stacks of papers before I find it. My heart is pounded in my chest. I’m going to be a dad. This picture is proof. It feels like a big moment. One I should have shared with Tara.

I have a lot to make up for. I won’t let her go though any more alone. Once I find her, I’ll be keeping her close. I’ll be making her my wife.

Can I really do it?

Can I make the vow to honor and cherish just one woman for the rest of his life? Loyalty and honor are embedded into every cell of my being. Once I make an oath or a promise, I don’t break it. Do I really want to marry Tara? Am I ready to give up all other pussy for life?

It’s a surprisingly quick answer to come to.

Yes. Yes I want to marry Tara. Yes I can give up all other women.

Tara and I had amazing sex. We were compatible as hell in bed. Our chemistry off the charts. If I could have that every night for the rest of my life then fuck yes I can take the vow to honor and cherish her until parted by death.

My parents are going to be ecstatic.

Shit, mom is going to be pissed I knocked her up before I married her.

Then again, maybe mom can help me figure out how to woo Tara.

Woo.

What fucking self-respecting mafia man says woo?

Before I can woo her, I have to find her.

I turn the sonogram photo over. My eyes lingering on the tiny little blot. It looks nothing like a baby. Not yet. I wonder how old the photos is.

I scan the corner of the picture where I see tiny writing. Holy shit! The sonogram has the name of the clinic Tara went to for her visit. This is the best news I’ve had in weeks. I have to tell Callum. I get up and run to his office. Without knocking, I burst into the room.

“I know how to find her!”