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DON’T TAKE MY BABY: Twisted Ghosts MC by Zoey Parker (71)


 

Zane

 

My mind was racing as I ran down the stairs with my phone clutched in my hand. Suddenly, everything made sense. I knew the words before I could even think of them. She’s pregnant. And it’s your baby in her belly. “Fuck!” I cursed loudly, balling my hand into a fist and slamming it down on the counter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I half expected Isabella to let herself out of my room and come down the stairs, but even if she heard me causing a commotion, she didn’t make a sound. I couldn’t believe it. This could ruin everything. The coke deal. My life. Isabella’s life.

 

I couldn’t believe she hadn’t told me. The more I thought about it, the more obvious everything became. I knew that she’d seemed different, and this seemed to answer almost every question. She’d been in a somber mood, she’d been starving, and the vomiting? God, it was too easy! I felt like such a fool for not questioning her sooner. And for not wearing a rubber during one of the times we’d fucked. Hell, even if she hadn’t been pregnant, she probably would have been after the marathon sex we’d had earlier that night. I could just see Lionel now, chastising me for not wrapping up my dick. He always warned me to be careful around women, and I winced when I imagined his reaction.

 

As a kid, I thought his attitude towards women had been cold. But now I almost understood. You didn’t want anyone getting too close; you didn’t want anyone trying to attach themselves to you. The family business could be a very dangerous business, and I had a feeling that if Isabella knew what having a baby with me entailed, she never would have let herself get pregnant. Too late for that shit. She’s already knocked up. It’s not like I can take the kid back.

 

With trembling fingers, I dialed the number of a doctor Lionel and I had helped out a few years back. He’d had a problem with gang members showing up to his practice and harassing some of the women he treated. Now, he still owed us a few favors. He picked up on the first ring.

 

“Hi, Zane,” Dr. Jennings greeted me in a tired voice. “What can I do for you?”

 

“I need you to come over to my place, pronto,” I snapped. “Bring your bag.”

 

Dr. Jennings hesitated. “Is it…another one of the same cases?”

 

I rolled my eyes. A couple of months back, Dr. Jennings had to come over. I’d brought a girl home and she’d OD’d on heroin when I was in the bathroom. Jennings had fixed her up and sent her home. I knew he was worried about liability, but damnit. He owed me, for fuck’s sake.

 

“No,” I snapped. “Just get here. No one’s gonna sue you, old man.”

 

The line went dead with a click. I couldn’t keep thinking about Isabella or I was going to snap. I was so angry with her. I couldn’t believe she’d kept this from me! It was my fucking child, too, and I deserved to know. Maybe she’s not really pregnant, I thought. Maybe it’s a big fucking misunderstanding. But then my eyes caught sight of the pizza box on top of the recycling container. I remembered how Isabella had inhaled half of the pizza before I’d even made it through one slice. No, she was definitely pregnant. There was no way a woman like Isabella would be able to get over her self-consciousness and eat like that, not in front of a man she was still trying to impress. I shook my head. Great observational powers, Sherlock, I thought sarcastically. You’ll make a fuckin’ good detective.

 

In the back of my mind, I remembered Jake’s car show. It was tomorrow. I frowned. I’d have to do something, get someone to watch Isabella so I could leave the house for a couple of hours. I’d never had a woman staying with me for protection before, and I was just now starting to realize just how much energy I’d spend on keeping her locked up safely.

 

There was a soft knock on the door. I opened the door and saw a breathless Dr. Jennings, clutching a worn leather bag. I stepped back and Jennings followed me into the house. “What can I do for you, Zane?”

 

My jaw clenched so hard a pain shot through my mouth. “There’s a woman in my room,” I said through gritted teeth. “She’s pregnant, or at least we think she is. Give her a blood test. I need to know the results now.”

 

Jennings looked visibly relaxed. “And the woman,” he started in a soft voice, “is she here of her own free will?”

 

I laughed drily. “Sort of,” I said. Jennings looked alarmed as I led him up the stairs.

 

Isabella was sitting in bed. She’d dressed in her shirt and a pair of my pajama pants. She looked alarmed when she saw Jennings.

 

“Relax,” I snapped. “He’s here to give you a test.”

 

Isabella nodded, looking numb. I couldn’t stand the sight of her so I went downstairs, plugging my fingers in my ears so I wouldn’t have to hear Jennings explain the process to Isabella.

 

I paced back and forth in the marble foyer, clenching my hands into fists at my sides. I never prayed, but I let out a silent prayer that Isabella wasn’t pregnant. It was more than I could deal with at the moment. Having a kid would fucking ruin everything.

 

God, he was taking forever! It had been at least thirty minutes. I checked the clock: it was after two in the morning. Shaking my head, I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. I gulped it down in two swallows, then reached for another and did the same. Finally, a warm, familiar buzz came over me. I tried to sit down but I couldn’t sit still, and finally resorted to pacing in front of the stairs, like a fucking dog waiting to go for a walk. Come on, come on, I urged silently. Hurry up! I’m fuckin’ waiting here! I kept my ear turned towards my door, listening for a sound, listening for anything. I didn’t know if Isabella was the type to shriek and cry at bad news, but I winced every time the floor creaked above me.

 

After what felt like an impossibly long wait, Jennings emerged from my bedroom at the top of the stairs. He started down the stairs, walking silently in his orthopedic shoes. When he looked at me, I realized I couldn’t read his face.

 

“Well, doc? What’s the damage?”

 

Jennings swallowed. “The young woman is, indeed, with child,” he said. “And she has told me there’s no way it could be anyone’s but yours.”

 

The news hit me like a punch to the gut. Even though I’d suspected as much, I didn’t want to believe it was actually happening. This was too much. Isabella, pregnant with my child. After a fucking one-night stand! When I’d never even wanted to see her again!

 

I put my head in my hands.

 

“Bad news?” Jennings touched my shoulder and I angrily pushed him away, as if the whole situation was his fault.

 

“None of your fucking business,” I snapped. “Get out of my house.”

 

As I watched the headlights from Jennings’ car fade away, I realized I was now going to have to protect Isabella and our unborn child, no matter what. If anyone found out she was carrying a child, she’d be the first target on their list for a ransom. And there was no fucking way I was going to let that happen.

 

Grimly, I turned towards the stairs and glared at my closed bedroom door. I may be angry as hell with you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you, I thought as I closed my eyes. I swear.