****
"Bro?" Nate's voice was soft as he stuck his head inside my bedroom.
I was wrapped up in a thick blanket, sitting on the chair near the window, letting the snow blow in on me. "What?"
"You doing okay?" He closed the door and moved over to kneel in front of me. The worry on his face should have touched my heart, but it didn't. I wasn't sure I had one anymore.
"I'm alive, man. That's as good as it gets." I continued to stare out the window. I wanted to ask about Grace, but it was a dead subject. We were nothing to each other but a hopeful ending. It was sick and overrated.
"I just left your father's office."
"Awesome." I blinked slowly and focused on my breathing. My only task was to get better.
"He said that Fredrick is late on his payment." Nate reached out and gripped my shoulder, rubbing softly. "Erik. What the fuck did he do to you man? Talk to me. It's me."
I glanced over at him and turned away. I didn't have much control over the last of my emotions as my heart died in my chest. His face opened up too many wounds, the memories good and bad. He'd taken four bullets for me the day we killed Carlos for my father. Little did we know that my sister was being taken while we were gone. Nate would die inside just like I had.
"Are you going on the hit to kill Fredrick?" I snorted. The irony of it all. Nate liked Fredrick a lot and had been working for the guy for a long time.
"No. You are." He glanced down.
"I'm not doing anything for that bastard anymore. He can put a bullet in my skull." I shrugged and closed my eyes. "I'm tired man. Get out."
"Erik. Dude, please. You're scaring me. I need to tell you something, but I'm not sure you're going to hear me right now."
"Get out!" I turned and screamed in his face. "Now!"
He stood and lifted his hand. "Alright. I'll be back soon though. If you need me-"
"I won't. Get out and don't come back, Nate. Whatever friendship we had is dead. Leave me the fuck alone." I pulled my blanket closer and leaned to my right, pressing my bruised cheek to my shoulder. "And tell Kane to deal with Fredrick. If he doesn't have the money, I'm sure he has something in his past that will cripple him. Just stay out of it. I'll have you out of this shit soon."
"Out of what shit?" His voice was far too timid to sound like the Nate I knew.
"The syndicate." I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. The icy cold of winter rushed over me, leaving me more alive than I could remember ever feeling. Except when I was in Grace's arms.
"Erik."
I came up out of my chair and turned to face him as the blanket fell. "I swear to God I'm going to fucking blow your cock off if you don't get out of here."
"Holy shit." He cupped his hand over his mouth and stumbled back. "Erik, man. We have to get you to a hospital."
"Get out." I stumbled toward my nightstand and got my gun, turning and lifting it toward him. I jerked to the left and let off a round as he stood in stony silence, his face a mask of horror.
"Did your father do this shit to you?"
"I'll shoot you, Nate. I don't care who you are. I don't want anyone around me. Not ever again. "I jerked the gun toward the ground and shot at the floor in front of him, causing him to stumble back toward the door.
"I'm leaving, but I'm here for you." He reached for the door, opening it and talking to the guy who came running. He was almost through the door when he paused and turned, dropping a bomb on me that I wasn't sure how to recover from. "I came by to tell you that Grace is pregnant, man. It's yours."
"Get out." I put my back to him as the air seemed so hard to breathe all of a sudden. Grace was pregnant? It had to be mine. He said it was mine, right? "Nate?" I jerked around, but he was already gone.
Fuck me. Grace had my baby inside of her? No. This was terrible news. There was no way I could be with her after what happened, after my father's threats. Even if I put a bullet in his head, could I really go to her? She'd chosen freedom, Thomas, normalcy over me. She'd rejected my hopes of getting out town together.
"She didn't even try to call, knowing my father would most likely kill me." I dropped down on the side of my bed so fucking weary.
Pregnant? It didn't matter. It couldn't.
I sat there for an hour, thinking through the possibilities and knowing that I had to see her. At least one last time before the showdown with my old man. It took me for-fucking-ever to get dressed, but once I was, I grabbed my gun and walked through the house, ready to shoot anyone that even paused to look at me wrong.
The laughter from the dining room made me sick. Thanksgiving dinner was a joke. Life was a bitch, and then you died alone, starving for affection.
"What the fuck do we have to be thankful about?" I walked out into the snow and got in my father's jeep. Grace would probably be with her family, or maybe not. I wasn't nearly that lucky.
Pregnant. How fucked up was that?