Page 9

"I do, sweetheart," she says simply. "We’ve all been young and pregnant before, and it’s absolutely terrifying, but you have a team rallying behind you."

A knock at the door makes us both freeze.

My blood turns to ice.

What if it's Dylan?

What if he knows I blocked him? What if?—

"Everly?" a deep voice calls. "It's Regnor."

Relief floods through me so intense I almost sob.

Vail looks at me with raised eyebrows, surprised he’s here.

"He checks on me sometimes," I explain, already moving to the door.

I unlock the door, and Regnor stands there looking concerned, his dark eyes immediately scanning me for new damage.

"Wanted to check on you," he says, then notices Vail. "Didn't know you had company."

"I was just leaving," Vail says, standing. She gives me a meaningful look. "Think about what I said. Call me tomorrow?"

I nod, not trusting my voice.

She gathers her things, pauses at the door.

"Regnor," she says with a nod.

"Vail."

She glances between us, and I see the moment she’s putting puzzle pieces together.

But they’re puzzle pieces that don’t fit together.

Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't say anything. Just squeezes my hand and leaves.

The door closes, and we're alone.

Regnor's presence fills my small apartment, making the space feel even smaller.

"You okay?" he asks, voice gentle.

That's all it takes for every tear to come rushing back.

They come again, harder this time, and I'm shaking so badly I can barely stand.

"Hey, hey." He moves closer but doesn't touch me. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I'm pregnant," I blurt out between sobs. "I'm fucking pregnant."

His face goes through several emotions—surprise, anger, something that might be pain. "Is it Dylan's?"

I nod. "What am I, some common whore going around town? C’mon, Regnor."

"Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—fuck," he growls, fists clenching. "I'll kill him. I'll fucking?—"

"He doesn't know!" I say quickly. "He can't know. Ever. He sabotaged my birth control, Regnor. He planned this. If he finds out..."

"He won't." The certainty in his voice cuts through the fear roaring through me. "He's never going to know."

"How? How can you be sure? He's always watching, always?—"

"Because you're done with him." Regnor moves closer, his presence solid and safe. "This is my baby now, okay?"

His words don't make sense. "What?"

"You heard me." His dark eyes bore into mine. "From this moment on, that baby is mine. We tell everyone I'm the father. You've been seeing me behind his back. That's why you're leaving him."

"That's insane," I breathe. "No one would believe I’m a cheater, that we?—"

"Vail just saw me at your apartment in the evening. She already suspects something." His voice is calm, logical, like he's thought this through. "We sell it right, everyone believes it. Including Dylan."

"My daddy is gonna kill you if we do this." The thought of my father, Kraken's, reaction makes me shudder. "He made it clear to all of you guys—stay away from me. Let me have a normal life."

"Then let him." Regnor's jaw sets stubbornly. "Your safety matters more than his rules."

"You don't understand. This isn't just some story we can tell. If we do this, if we claim you're the father, that means..." I trail off, overwhelmed by what it would mean.

"I meant what I said on Thanksgiving." He steps even closer, close enough that I can feel his warmth. "I want you. And if we do this, we're doing it. You're mine, this baby is mine. No half assed bullshit."

"Regnor—"

"I'm not asking for feelings you don't have," he clarifies quickly. "I'm not expecting anything from you except letting me protect you. Both of you. But to the world, you're my woman. My baby. My family to protect."

The room spins.

This is happening too fast.

This morning I didn't even know I was pregnant, and now he's offering to claim a baby that isn't his, to face the wrath of the club, to tie himself to me and my mess.

"Why?" I whisper. "Why would you do this?"

"Because you deserve better than living in fear. Because that baby deserves better than Dylan Mitchell as a father. And because I've wanted you for longer than I should admit, and if this is how I get to protect you and be with you, then so be it."

"This is fucking insane," I repeat, but something in me is considering it. "People don't just claim other men's babies."

"I do." He reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull back.

When I don't, his hand cups my cheek. "Say yes, Everly. Let me protect you."

"I..." The word sticks.

This morning, I was trapped with no way out.

Now he's offering me an escape, but at what cost? "What about Dylan? He won't just accept this."

"Let me worry about Dylan."

"He's dangerous. He's connected to?—"

"I know exactly what he's connected to," Regnor says darkly. "Been doing my homework. He's not as untouchable as he makes it seem."

I stare at him, this man offering to upend his entire life for me and a baby that isn't even his. "If we do this, there's no going back. The club will expect... things. People will talk. You'll be stuck with me."

"Stuck?" His thumb brushes over my cheekbone. "Sweetheart, I'd claim you in front of the whole damn world if you'd let me. This just gives me an excuse."

"But the baby?—"

"Will be mine in every way that matters." His voice is fierce. "Blood doesn't make a father. Choice does. And I choose you. Both of you."

The tears come again, but different this time.

Tears of relief, of hope, of possibility. "You're sure?"

"Never been more sure of anything." He pulls me closer, and I don't resist. "But we need to move fast. You need to block his number, cut all contact. Stay away from him completely."

"Already blocked him," I admit. "This morning, after..."

"Good. What else does he have at his place?"

"Nothing important. Some clothes I won't miss. Everything important is here."

"Then you're done. Clean break." His arms wrap around me, and for the first time in months, I feel safe. "I'll handle the rest."

"What about the club? Daddy's going to?—"

"I'll handle Kraken. I'll handle all of them." He pulls back to look at me. "All you need to worry about is taking care of yourself and the baby. Let me handle everything else."

"This is crazy," I say, but I'm already mentally accepting.

What choice do I have?

Stay with Dylan and raise a child in violence and fear?

Try to run and spend forever looking over my shoulder?

Or take this offer, this protection, this chance at something better?

"Crazy's better than dead," he says bluntly. "And that's where you were headed with him."

He's right. I know he's right.

Each time with Dylan gets worse.

Each beating more severe.

It was only a matter of time before he went too far.

"Okay," I whisper. "Okay. We do this. But Regnor..."

"What?"

"Thank you." The words seem inadequate for what he's offering, but they're all I have. "Thank you for?—"

"Don't thank me yet," he interrupts. "Thank me when you're safe. When the baby's here and healthy. When Dylan is nothing but a bad memory."

"How do we start? What do we tell people?"

"The truth, twisted just enough." He's already planning, I can see it in his eyes.

"You've been unhappy with Dylan for months. We connected at the club, started seeing each other in secret. Had a couple of drunken romps in the sack after being at Bubba’s together.

You got pregnant. You're leaving him for me. Simple."

"Simple," I repeat, laughing shakily. "Nothing about this is simple."

"No," he agrees. "But it's necessary. And Everly? We're going to sell this. Every look, every touch, every word. Until we even believe it."

"What if I'm not a good enough actress?"

"You won't be acting." His voice drops. "Not about being protected. Not about being cared for. That's all real. The rest... we'll figure out as we go."

I take a shaky breath.

This morning I was alone, pregnant, terrified.

Now I have a protector, a plan, a way out. It seems too good to be true.

"When do we tell people?"

"Soon. But first, you need to eat something. Rest. Let the shock settle." He glances toward the kitchen. "Vail brought soup?"

"Yeah."

"Then eat. I'll stay."

"You don't have to?—"

"Yes, I do." His voice brooks no argument. "From now on, you're not alone in this. Ever. That's what this means."

I nod, throat tight with emotion.

He heats up the soup while I sit at my small table, watching him move around my kitchen like he belongs there.

Maybe he does.

Maybe this insane plan could actually work.

"Vail knows I'm pregnant," I say as he sets the bowl in front of me. "She won't say anything, but..."

"Good. When we announce I'm the father, she'll think she knows why you were so scared to tell people." He sits across from me. "It works in our favor."

"You've really thought this through."

"Been thinking about you for longer than I should," he admits. "Just never thought it would happen like this."

I take a spoonful of soup, surprised when my stomach accepts it. "What did you think would happen?"

"Honestly? Thought you'd eventually see Dylan for what he is, leave him.

Maybe notice me at the club, give me a chance." He shrugs. "Didn't factor in a baby, but life rarely goes according to plan."

"No," I agree quietly. "It doesn't."

We sit in silence while I eat.

It's strange how natural this feels, him here in my space, watching over me.

Like he's always belonged here.

"I should probably know things," I say eventually. "If we're supposedly together. People will ask questions."

"Like what?"

"Like... how long have we been seeing each other? Where do we meet? How the sex is... you know?"

A smile tugs at his lips. "You’d give out intimate details like that?"

Heat floods my cheeks. "The ladies will wonder what the sex is like, especially since I'm pregnant."

"Fair point." He leans back, considering. "Two months. We've been sneaking around for two months. Met up whenever Dylan was busy with his 'business.' Your place when he wasn't around, my place when you could get away."

"And we...?"

"Couldn't keep our hands off each other," he says simply. "Every stolen moment. Every chance we got. That's how you got pregnant—passion made us careless."

The way he says it, low and sure, makes my stomach flutter. "Right. Okay. We can sell that."

"We will sell that." He reaches across the table, takes my hand. "Starting now. Get used to my touch, my presence. It needs to look natural."

His hand is warm, calloused, gentle.

So different from Dylan's possessive grip. "This is really happening."

"It is." He squeezes gently. "You ready for this?"

"No," I admit. "But I don't have a choice. This baby needs—" I stop, hand moving to my stomach instinctively.

"What does the baby need?"

"Safety. Love. A chance at normal." My voice cracks. "Everything I can't give them with Dylan in the picture."

"Then that's what we'll give them." His certainty steadies me. "Together."

Together.

The word settles over me like a blanket.

Not alone anymore.

Not facing this terrifying future by myself.

"I should probably know things about you too," I realize. "If we're together."

"Ask me anything."

"Your full name?"

"Regnor Walsh. No middle name—my mom couldn't afford extra letters." The joke falls flat, tinged with old pain.

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-three. And before you ask, yes, I know that's a gap between us."

"I wasn't going to?—"

"Everyone else will." He shrugs. "Let them talk. Won't be the worst thing they say about us."

He's right. The age gap will be the least of our problems once this gets out.

"Favorite color?"

That surprises a laugh from him. "Really? We're doing twenty questions?"

"If we're supposedly together, I should know these things."

"Blue," he says after a moment. "Dark blue, like the ocean at night. You?"

"Green." I touch my belly again. "Like sage."

Like my eyes, I don't say. But from the way he looks at me, he knows.

We spend the next hour trading information.

His favorite food is steak, rare, while mine is Thai, the spicier the better.

Little details that couples should know, that we'll need to sell this story.

"You should rest," he says eventually, studying my face. "When's the last time you actually slept?"

I try to remember.

Between the stress and the morning sickness, and the fear, real sleep has been elusive. "I don't know. Tried to last night, but I kept waking up."

"Then go lay down. I'll be here."

"You don't have to stay?—"

"Yes, I do." His voice is firm. "We're selling this, remember? Besides, you need to get used to me being around. To feeling safe enough to sleep."

The word 'safe' makes my chest tight.

When's the last time I felt safe enough to truly rest?

"Okay," I whisper. "But just a nap."

He follows me to my bedroom, and I'm suddenly self-conscious about the space.

It's nothing special—just a bed with rumpled sheets, a dresser, curtains I keep closed.

But it's mine, and having him here feels intimate in a way that makes me nervous.

"I'll be right outside," he says, reading my hesitation.

"No." The word surprises us both. "I mean... you can stay. If we're doing this, I need to get used to... this."

He nods, understanding what I can't quite articulate.

"I'll sit here," he says, gesturing to the old rocking chair in the corner. "Sleep. I've got you."

I crawl into bed fully clothed, too exhausted to care about changing.

The mattress accepts my aching body, and I realize how bone-tired I really am.

Growing a baby while surviving abuse takes more energy than I have.

"Regnor?" I say as my eyes grow heavy.

"Yeah?"

"This is nice. Having someone here. Not being alone."

"Get used to it," he says softly. "You're not alone anymore."

I close my eyes, and for the first time in months—maybe years—I fall asleep without fear.

Without wondering if Dylan will show up.

Without jumping at every sound.

Because Regnor's here, watching over me and the little life inside me.

My protector. My pretend lover. My unexpected savior.

As sleep claims me, I hear him shift in the chair, settling in for however long I need.

The last thought before darkness takes me is how different this feels from Dylan's possessive presence.

This is what safety feels like.

This is what care looks like.

This is what I've been missing.

And tomorrow, we'll make the rest of the world believe it too.

But right now, in this moment, with him watching over us, I don't have to pretend anything.

The relief of that is enough to finally, truly, let me rest.