Page 173 of Savage Hearts

My brain, which has been so unhelpful to me lately, cheerfully provides the precise answer: six weeks.

It was the week before Valentine’s Day, which means that the shot would have been effective until about the beginning or middle of May.

I was with Mal until the middle of June. It’s now the second week of July.

And I haven’t had a period yet.

Oh, fuck.

Sloane says sharply, “Riley?”

“Yep.” Avoiding her eyes, I stare at my pancakes as if the winning lottery numbers are in the syrup.Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

“So you’re covered?”

“Yep. I’m due for another shot, but seeing as how I won’t be having sex with anyone but myself for the rest of my life, I might not bother.”

Shitfuckpisscrap. Fucktrumpet cumbubble!

She exhales. “We should get you to a doctor for a checkup, anyway. This isn’t normal.”

“I’m fine. I promise. It’s just depression, that’s all.”

After a moment of silence, she stands up, rounds the table, and hugs me.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispers. “Don’t forget that I love you.”

This bitch is trying to kill me. She’s never told me she loves me before. Not ever that I can remember in our whole lives.

My voice breaks when I say it back.

Then a hot wave of nausea hits me. I run to the kitchen sink and throw up.

Panting, eyes watering, leaning over the sink staring at the contents of my stomach, I wonder how the hell I’m going to smuggle a pregnancy test into a safe house.

As it turns out, I don’t have to. I find three unopened boxes of pregnancy tests in a drawer in Sloane’s bathroom when I’m rummaging around for a bottle of shampoo.

It only takes one of them to deliver the news.

My heart thudding, I stare at the two little pink lines in the window on the white plastic stick and whisper, “Your daddy’s a jerk, kiddo.”

Then I do the only reasonable thing left to do. I burst into tears.

FORTY-SEVEN

RILEY

I spend the rest of that day in a haze. I go to bed, pull the covers over my head, and try to think clearly about what I should do next.

It’s useless. My brain is broken.

To match the other broken organ inside my chest.

Now, Mal will have another reason to want to keep me away.

An even more powerful reason. It isn’t only my safety at stake.

I’ve got a baby gangster on board.