Raindrops fall along the rim of my umbrella. I probably should have taken Jerry up on his offer to give me a ride back home but then again... eh. I’d rather walk. Also, after seeing Lance again...

Eh.

At least I got to say the words I’ll see you in court. I always wanted to do that but it doesn’t feel nearly as satisfying…

I turn the corner, picking up my pace as the sign for Kenny’s tattoo parlor comes into view. Once again, I find myself beaten down and broken with nowhere to turn to and — surprise, surprise — I brought it on myself. I feel a twitch in my right arm. My family’s marque. All that time in the chair wasted. Maybe Kenny has some ideas of what to do with it before I run and get it lasered off.

I extend my hand for the door but it opens suddenly. I hop back, balancing beneath my umbrella.

“Whoops. Sorry.”

“Wow, again?”

My lips curl as I peek up into Robbie’s deep, smiling eyes. “Hey, Robbie.”

He looks me up and down as rain drops on his forehead. “Yet another unplanned trip under the needle?” he asks. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He snorts.

I exhale. Hard. “Okay, I’m still a little messed-up post-Lance break-up. He just interviewed me in his office for the case so I came over here to—”

“Whoa.” He blinks repeatedly as he leans back, staring intently at me for several seconds before his eyes grow wide. “Whoa...”

I stand still. “What? Do I have a bug in my hair or something?”

He snatches my hand. “Come with me.”

“Wait, Rob—”

“Just come with me.”

I pick up my pace as he drags me with him down the street.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer. He tugs me along and I try not to smack into other people with my umbrella as we bolt past them.

Robbie makes a quick turn to open the door to the pharmacy on the corner.

I hop inside, happy to get out of the rain. “What are we doing here—”

“Zzzz-shush!”

He grabs my shoulders and pushes me forward, steering me all the way into the back. When we reach the center of some random, empty aisle, he stops me and swings out in front of me.

“When was the first day of your last period?” he asks.

My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

“Have you felt a little nauseous lately?” he adds. “Maybe some unexplained fatigue, perhaps?”

“What? No. What the hell are you even—”

“I get no pleasure from this.”

He pinches my nipples over my coat.

I gasp and recoil backward into the shelf behind me as discomfort surges through my chest.

“Robbie, why the fuck...” I pause and gently tweak my nipples again, “... am I so sensitive? That’s weird.”

Robbie raises a knowing brow and nods at the shelf beside us. “You need to piss on a stick pronto, Trix.”

I look at it, suddenly realizing that he led me into the pregnancy test aisle.

I drop my hands to my sides. “No,” I say. “No, no, no—”

“Trix, seriously.”

“No, no. I can’t be,” I say. “I had my period a week ago.”

“Was it weirdly light?” he asks suspiciously. “Did you think mother nature just gave you a lucky break this month?”

“I thought it was stress.”

He winces. “Honey, no...”

I cover my mouth. “Oh, my god...”

“Yep. That’s what I thought. Implantation bleeding.”

“Oh, fuck...” I glare at him. “Wait, how do you know this stuff?”

He stands taller. “Trix, I am the oldest of seven children.”

I blink. “Whoa, that’s a lot.”

“I have five sisters — you and Nora not included.”

“Oh, jeez.”

He nods. “I’ve seen things no man should ever experience. Through that, I developed a sixth sense for pregnancy-related symptoms. It’s how I know danger is near and you...” He gestures at me with fear. “You are setting off some serious red flags for me right now. You’re lucky I’m even talking to you at all.”

I rest a hand on my stomach. “Well, what do I do?”

“Oh, nuh-uh,” he says, waving his hands. “I just detect smoke. It’s up to you to put out the fire.”

I grab his jacket sleeve. “No, Rob! You can’t drop this on me and leave. I’m freaking out here. What do I do?”

“You…” He turns his hands up. “I don’t know. Take a test and chill? I’ve been wrong before.”

I perk up. “You have?”

“No.”

I groan, still clinging to his arm.

He lays his hand on mine. “Trix, just relax. You have time and options and a significant supply of both. You’ll be fine. Now…” He tries to pry my fingers off. “I have to be somewhere…”

“Where?”

“Literally anywhere else.”

“Robbie, please…” I beg.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks. “Stand outside your bathroom and hold your hand?”

“Would you?”

He sighs. “I meant that to be outlandish.”

“Oh, come on! You’d do it for Melanie.”

“Y—no. Melanie’s fixed. I’m pretty sure any conversation we’d had about her getting pregnant would have included a priest because the second coming’s-a-coming.”

“Rob.”

“Or she’d need an exorcism. That one’s more likely.”

“You owe me,” I say, pointing a finger.

“I owe you?”

“I didn’t tell Mel about the stupid flowers with the one-inch ribbons and the cute, little notes on ‘em! Or the sexting!”

His face screws up with panic. “That doesn’t mean I owe you!”

“Yes, it does. I kept a huge secret from my best friend. Now, you have to hold my hand while I find out whether or not I’m an even worse daughter than I already am.”

He groans loudly. “I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass.”

“Robbie, please.”

His head drops. “Fine,” he says.

“You’ll go back to my apartment with me?”

He bites down in hesitation. “Yes.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

“Super promise?”

“Yes.” He exhales in annoyance. “You know, I got snipped at twenty-five so I’d never have to do exactly this.”

I smile and release my hold on his arm. “Thank you, Robbie.”

“Yeah, yeah…” His lips pull into an involuntary half-smile. He nudges my chin with his bandaged hand. “You’re welcome, Blossom.”

* * *

I stare at the plastic stick in my hand. I have the instructions in the other but I've already read them so many times I can recite them from memory. Point the absorbent tip downward. Place the absorbent tip in urine stream for at least ten seconds...

And now, I wait.

God, it’s taking forever.

I open my bathroom door and step out into the bedroom. Robbie sits on my bed with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, looking painfully uncomfortable but he forces a big smile anyway.

“How’d it go?” he asks.

I check the tiny window on the stick. “Nothing yet.”

He nods and glances around. He bites his cheek and rocks slightly back and forth. Replace the leather with a straitjacket and he’ll fit right in with how I feel right now.

“So, why don’t you ever talk about your family?” I ask, desperate for a distraction.

“Not much to say, really,” he says. “I was born. They raised me. I left as soon as I got my motorcycle license and never looked back.”

“Where were you born?”

Robbie holds his breath for a moment, then finally, “Kansas.”

“No way.” I smile.

“Tiny town about an hour from Kansas City.”

“Robbie Wheeler, resident badass, is from Small Town, Kansas?”

He glares. “I said I never went back.”

“Do your sisters still live there?” I ask, amused.

“A few,” he says with a nod. “One escaped to Topeka. Another is stationed in Florida with her husband, I think. Hard to keep track of them.”

“I bet.”

“My little brother, Tucker, is still there. He’s a mechanic. Are you pregnant?”

I groan as reality violently tugs me back in. “I don’t know.”

Robbie’s eyes flick down to the stick. “Well?”

I shift on my feet. “I don’t wanna.”

He stands up and extends his hand. “I’ll do it. Give it here.”

I hesitate. I’m a few seconds from knowing something I already know. I hold it out and Robbie slides the stick from my hands. He looks at it, his face blank of expression, most likely on purpose.

My heart races. “Well?”

“Well...” He turns it to show me the window. “Congratulations, Trix.”

Pregnant.

I exhale all the air from my lungs. “Well, fuck.”

Robbie pats my shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“My father’s gonna kill me,” I say.

“Why?” he asks. “Weren’t little mob babies part of his whole evil plan?”

“Because it’s Lance’s little mob baby.”

“Ohhh, yeah,” he realizes. “You’re right. You fucked up.”

I collapse onto the edge of the bed. “How did this even happen?”

“You had sex,” he deadpans.

“Yes, I did.”

“Unprotected?”

“No, we used condoms.”

“That’s it?” he asks. “No pills? No ‘cide?”

“Normal, everyday condoms.”

He winces. “Honey, no...”

“Well, they’ve worked just fine for fifteen years. Why stop now?”

“Were they expired?” he asks.

I fold over with a groan, then rise back up. “Wait, condoms expire?”

His head tilts with disappointment. “Let’s hope this kid inherits intelligence from the Harvard half.”

I glare at him as I hop to the side and pull open my bedside drawer.

“Always double-up, Trix,” he says. “Failure rate seems tiny until it happens to you.”

I pull out a condom and flip it over in search for a date on the wrapper. “2020,” I read, holding it up. “Vindicated.”

“Still pregnant,” he says with a shrug.

I glance at the package again, swiping my thumb across the face. A jagged texture makes me take a closer look.

“Holy shit,” I say, my mouth dropping open.

“What?”

A tiny pinhole on both sides.

I reach into the drawer.

“Trix?”

I grab a few more condoms to check them. My stomach churns when I see the same tiny hole in each one of them.

“Someone poked holes in these,” I say.

“Someone what?” He steps forward. “Let me see.”

I stand up and shift several paces away from them as Robbie takes a look. Who the hell would do this? I definitely didn’t do it and Lance was never alone with them... nor can I ever picture him doing something like this.

I gasp. “Marcus,” I growl.

Robbie twists around. “You think so?”

“Who the hell else? We know he’s been here by himself. He tried the whole one last time thing.”

“And you used these since then?”

“Yeah, a few of them. In the dark, heat of passion, didn’t notice, et cetera...” I deflate. “Marcus tried to trap me. I knew he was desperate but I never thought he’d stoop to this.”

Robbie nods slowly and clears his throat. “Okay... so... can I kick his ass now?”

I plop onto the bed again. I guess I can at least be thankful that it’s not Marcus’. It’s one-hundred-percent Lance’s. But then again, it’s Lance’s. We aren’t together anymore and we’ve certainly drawn our lines in the sand.

“Fuck,” is all I can say.

“Hey...” Robbie sits down beside me and rubs my back. “You’re gonna be okay. You know, just... stand tall when they’re calling you out. Don’t bend. Don’t break. Baby, don’t back down...”

I pause. “Was that Bon Jovi?”

“Yeah, I got nothing.” He slides out his phone. “I’m calling in the cavalry.”

He swipes the screen twice and brings the phone to his ear. I listen to the soft hum as it rings repeatedly. Robbie pats my shoulder, giving me a reassuring nod as we continue waiting.

“Hey, it’s Melanie. Leave a message.”

He hangs up and calls back. “Usually takes a few tries,” he whispers.

I bite my cheek, holding back a smile while he sits patiently through another half-dozen rings. Her voicemail message comes up again and Robbie immediately calls right back.

“What the fuck do you want?”

Robbie grins. “White flag, Mel. Trix needs help. Can you get to her place right now?”

He gives my back another comforting rub and stands up.

“Nora, too. Might as well bring food and beer while you’re at it.” He glances at my stomach. “Eh, better make it light beer.”

I chortle.

“Yeah, it’s kinda serious,” he says. “A little out of my league. I’ll let her explain.” He nods. “All right. See you soon.”

He hangs up and drops the phone back into his pocket.

“Wow,” I say. “That’s the friendliest conversation I’ve ever heard you two have.”

“We know when to put aside the petty shit,” he says.

I smile. “For what it’s worth, I hope you two work it out someday.”

“Yeah. Me, too. Still, I should probably get out of here before she shows up. She’s ovulating and might not be able to resist me.”

I shake my head. “You’re the Sherlock Holmes of vagina, Rob,” I quip.

His lips curl into a wide smirk. “Yes, I am,” he says.