Chapter 28 Willow #2
Ransom’s eyes light up for a second, and I realize that he doesn’t understand yet. He thinks it might be his baby, or one of his brothers’. Before he can get too excited, I shake my head.
“No, Ransom.”
That makes him stop and think about it, and I can see the moment all the pieces come together in his mind. Pain takes the place of excitement in his eyes, and I know it’s pain for me. Because he realizes what this means.
“I think… I think Troy had my birth control implant removed,” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“I didn’t even think about it while I was there or in the aftermath because there were so many other things to worry about.
And I didn’t notice the pain or the bruising from the removal because I had so many other bruises.
Other marks. I should’ve checked. I should’ve known he would—”
I break off, the pain in my chest becoming too much to bear.
“Fuck,” Ransom breathes. Before I can say anything else, he’s pulling me into his arms, crushing me to his chest in a tight hug. He’s on his knees and so am I, his strong arms wrapped around me.
It’s enough to make the dam inside me overflow, and I let myself cry into his chest.
“What the hell is going on? What’s wrong?”
Malice’s voice comes from behind Ransom, and I look up to see him and Vic standing side by side in the bathroom doorway. They must’ve realized something was wrong when we didn’t come back to bed.
I can see the worry on their faces at finding us like this, and I swallow hard, brushing a hand over my face to wipe away my tears.
Silence fills the bathroom for a long moment. The thought of repeating those awful words makes my stomach turn for an entirely different reason than the nausea that brought me in here in the first place, but when Ransom shoots me a questioning look, I shake my head.
I know he would take this burden from me if he could, but I have to be the one to say it.
Wiping my eyes again, I take a shuddering breath, trying to steady myself. My limbs feel heavy and numb, and I glance from Malice to Vic, almost as if I’m trying to memorize the way they look before they hear the awful news I’m about to deliver.
“I think I’m pregnant,” I tell them, the words halting and stiff. “And it’s… it’s probably Troy’s.”
Vic makes a noise low in his throat, his shoulders going tense. Malice’s jaw clenches immediately, fury snapping in his eyes.
“Are you sure?” he demands.
I shake my head. “No. Not entirely. I woke up feeling sick, and my period is late. But I don’t know for sure.”
Vic and Malice share a look, and without a word being spoken between them, Vic nods and then leaves.
As soon as his twin disappears, Malice comes into the bathroom and puts the lid down on the toilet, sitting there with us. Ransom keeps stroking my hair, letting me lean against him, and Malice wraps his large hand around mine, threading our fingers together.
“Vic will get a test,” he says. “We’ve gotta be sure.”
I nod, because he’s right about that. Even if I don’t want to know the truth, I can’t avoid it forever. And I have to be sure.
We sit in silence for what feels like an eternity, and by the time Vic comes back with the test, I’m not shaking quite as much. It still doesn’t feel completely real, and my mind sort of refuses to latch on to this new crisis.
Vic presses the test into my hands when he comes back, and I let out a shaky breath. He and his brothers clear out, giving me some space to deal with it. Part of me wants them to stay, to hold my hands while I figure out just how fucked I am, but a larger part of me wants to do this alone.
I can hear them right outside the door though, too protective to go very far even now.
It’s pretty simple to pee on the stick, although it takes a little maneuvering to get it right.
I have a memory of being pretty young and sitting outside the bathroom door while Misty did this, trying to see if she felt shitty that morning because she’d been partying too much or because she was pregnant.
It turned out okay for her in the end, and I silently hope that it’ll be the same for me.
The minutes until the test will reveal the result crawl by, and I pace the bathroom, hugging myself tightly, everything in me practically begging for it to be negative.
But when I finally look, I see a little plus sign staring back at me, sealing my fate.
It’s positive.
I’m pregnant.
For a second, I just stare at it, overcome. Then I open the door and hold it out wordlessly, letting the three men see it.
Tears well in my eyes, and I blink them back, trying not to fall apart. But it’s almost impossible not to. My fate is written right there, in damning pink lines. I’m going to have Troy’s baby.
It takes several agonizing heartbeats before I’m able to look up at the guys, my stomach twisting with nerves.
Part of me expects to see disgust on their faces, or anger.
I’m carrying the child of one of their worst enemies, and I almost expect them to look at me like I’m tainted. I wouldn’t blame them. I feel tainted.
But instead, they all reach for me at nearly the same time. They step forward to surround me, and I’m pulled into the circle of their bodies and held close.
“It’s not his,” Ransom says softly. “Not in any way that counts. Troy is dead, so this is your kid.”
“I wish I could kill him again,” Malice mutters. “And make it hurt even worse this time. But Ransom is right. We’re gonna love and protect you and any baby you have. No matter who the father is.”
A tiny sob escapes my lips, and I feel their arms tighten around me in response.
“But… why?” I ask, my voice shredded. “How can you promise that, knowing that Troy… knowing that the baby will be part his?”
“Because it doesn’t matter.” Vic’s voice rumbles in my ear. “DNA isn’t what decides who a person will become. Our father was a piece of shit, remember? And none of us turned out like him.”
My tears soak Malice’s shirt. “I know. I just…”
“And look at you,” Ransom adds, stroking my hair again. “Your grandmother is the biggest fucking bitch in the whole state. And you’re nothing like her. That should be pretty good proof right there of how little someone’s family tree matters.”
“Your kid will decide who they want to be, no matter who their father is,” Malice says, his hands splaying over my back. “Troy is gone from this fucking earth, so he won’t be an influence.”
What they’re saying makes sense, logically. And I want to believe them, to cling to the conviction in their voices and let myself hope that everything could still be okay. But in this moment, it’s hard to imagine that anything that’s a part of Troy Copeland could ever be good, even this baby.
More tears leak from my eyes, and I squeeze my lids shut as the men continue to hold me, murmuring soft, soothing words.
Finally, as if he can sense the conflict still raging inside me, Ransom pulls back a little.
The other men loosen their holds on me as well, and he rests two knuckles under my chin, catching my gaze.
“Do you remember what I told you on my bike that day, angel?” he asks quietly. “Right before Misty died?”
My heart stutters. Of course I remember.
Every minute of that day is burned into my memory, including the part of it where Ransom took me for a ride on his motorcycle.
That was the first time he ever made me come on his bike, revving the engine to help me get off…
and in the aftermath, as we sat talking in the quiet stillness, he told me a secret he’d never told anyone else.
He doesn’t have the same mother as Malice and Vic.
His blue-green eyes are somber as he watches me now, taking in the look on my face as I process his words. I’m aware of his brothers watching us, confusion pinching Malice’s brows together, but I keep my focus on Ransom as I nod, the lump in my throat growing.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I remember.”