Chapter Twenty-Nine
Morgan
“Hey, bitch.” The greeting made me smile. Devlyn would always be Devlyn, and right now that was the most comforting thing in my life.
“I went to the doctor today,” I blurted out.
“What did they say?”
“He was the same doctor as last time. He did an exam and another ultrasound,” I explained.
“Morgan, what did he say?” I heard the worry in her voice, the concern for my well-being. I missed her so damn much.
“He said everything looked great. The baby is right where she’s supposed to be.”
“She?”
I shook my head, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “I alternate between the two. Calling my baby it just doesn’t feel right.”
“How are you feeling now?”
“Terrified. I thought once I knew everything was okay, the fear would go away.”
Devlyn scoffed on the other end of the line. “It becomes a different kind of fear. And changes again after the baby is born.”
“Does it get easier?” I asked.
“Yes. Once you start feeling them move, then the fear eases a little because you know if they’re moving, they’re okay. But also no, it doesn’t because once they’re moving, the thought of losing them is worse.”
“That doesn’t help,” I said with a laugh, my eyes watering.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “Talk to your mom. She’s been through all the stages,” Devlyn suggested. “Speaking of parents… have you told your dad and brother yet?”
“No,” I said with a heavy breath. “Can’t I just wait until after the baby is in school and let him tell them?”
“I don’t think it works that way.” Devlyn was quiet for a moment. “I still can’t believe you have a dad and never told me.”
“I’m sorry, Dev. I couldn’t.”
“Oh, I get it, but your dad is the head of the Irish Mob.”
“Dev, we grew up with the Sons of Hell,” I reminded her.
“So not the same thing.”
I reached for a bowl and some herbs and brought them to the worktable before grabbing the rest of the items I needed. I set the phone on the table and put it on speaker so I could work while we talked.
“King can be pretty scary.”
“Mob, Morgan. M. O. B.”
I laughed at my best friend. “I know what the Mob is, Dev. But I’ve never been involved in any of it. It’s why I had to keep him a secret.”
I heard a noise outside the door, and called out, “Hello?”
“I’m right here.”
“Not you, Dev. I thought I heard someone in the hall.”
I listened for a few seconds and when there was nothing, I went back to my conversation with Devlyn. A few minutes later I heard it again.
“Hang on, Dev.”
I moved around the table and opened the door. Looking down the hall in both directions, there was no one.
“Hmmm, maybe it’s rats,” I said absently.
“Rats?!” Devlyn screeched. “Where the fuck are you that there are rats?”
I laughed at my best friend. She hated rats. I couldn’t blame her entirely; I may or may not have traumatized her when we were kids by letting my pet rat sleep in the bed with us.
Devlyn woke up one morning with Fievel tucked up under her chin, snuggled against her neck. I tried to explain he was looking for a warm spot, but when he started licking her, she completely lost her mind.
“I’m in the basement.”
“He put you in the basement?”
“He didn’t put me anywhere. I asked Zombie about a place to work, and this was the only thing available. Basements don’t freak me out the way they do you. It’s clean and dry, and that’s all I need.”
I heard it again. It didn’t sound like scratching, more like shuffling. I stared at the door, expecting it to open.
“Morgan, what’s going on? You got really quiet.”
“I heard a noise again.”
“Please go upstairs. You’re freaking me out.”
I chuckled at the phone. “Fine, I’ll finish this later.”
My hand twisted the doorknob, but nothing happened. “Huh?”
“Huh? Huh what?”
“The door is stuck.” I banged my hand on it. “Hello? Is someone out there?”
“Morgan, call Chasm.”
“I don’t have his number,” I said, trying the doorknob again. I looked over the seam. “I don’t see anything stuck in the doorframe.”
“What do you mean, you don’t have his number? Why the fuck don’t you have his number? You know what, never mind.”
The call disconnected, and I stared at the phone. “She hung up on me,” I said out loud.
Shaking my head, I focused my attention back on the door. I ran my hand over the frame, searching for anything that could have prevented the door from opening.
A moment later, I heard the sound of boots stomping.
“MORGAN!”
She called Jude.
“Baby?”
“I’m in here; the door got stuck.”
“Back up to the other side of the room, baby.”
I ignored the way my body shivered when he called me baby. I backed up behind the worktable, reminding myself he was worried about the baby, not me.
The door crashed open, and then he was across the room pulling me into his arms.
“How did you know?”
“Devlyn called me.”
“She is so dramatic; the door was stuck. It’s probably from the humidity.”
Zombie, Ambush, and a few others were standing just inside the door. Ambush was inspecting the frame and when he looked at Jude, he shook his head.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Jude said as he kissed my head. My eyes closed involuntarily at the contact. “I want her moved upstairs.”
“On it, Prez,” Zombie replied before moving into the hall.
“This room is fine. Zombie said it was all he had available.”
“He’ll make something available. Until the guys get everything moved upstairs, I don’t want you down here.”
“Jude, that could take days.”
“Morgan, please. The basement is not a good place for the baby.”
I swallowed my protest, and my body filled with anger. “I would never put the baby at risk, Jude,” I ground out through clenched teeth. I shoved him away and stalked out of the room.
“That’s not what I meant,” he called out behind me.
It took eight days.
Eight freaking days to empty a room next to church and knock down a wall to another room, giving me twice as much space as I had downstairs. Jude also had a door installed that opened into church.
His explanation was that I needed a second way out, never mind that the room my things had been moved into had two doors already since they didn’t close up the door in the second room that they added to the first.
I wanted to complain, but being next to church, Jenna wouldn’t risk destroying my room again. She wouldn’t be able to come in here without being caught.
“Hey, darling,” my mom said as she walked into my workroom.
“Hi, Mom.”
She looked around the room at the shelves and jars and bowls. I watched her as she moved from shelf to shelf, reading labels. Then she turned around and pierced me with her knowing gaze.
“Where are all the items you’ve already made?”
I turned my back, pretending to straighten items on a shelf across the room from her. With the room as large as it was now, it was easy to keep the distance between us.
“Morgan Amelia Delany, I asked you a question.”
My shoulders slumped, and I knew I would have to tell her. I turned around and faced the woman who raised me, protected me... loved me. Bernadette Delany loved fiercely, and when I told her what happened, she would tear Jenna’s hair out.
“I need you to listen and not react.”
My mother crossed her arms over her chest, and her foot started tapping. I crossed the room and placed my foot on top of hers.
“You are already getting worked up.”
“Where is it, Morgan?”
My hands went to her biceps, and I held her in place when I said, “It was all destroyed.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. “I told them to be careful,” she started.
“It wasn’t the move. It was before that.”
My mother narrowed her eyes and glared at me. “Explain.”
“A few days before my doctor’s appointment, I went downstairs, and the room was trashed. Everything had been broken.”
“That’s why you ordered new stuff,” she surmised. “Did you tell Jude?”
“No, and I’m not going to.” I walked away from my mother before she saw something in my eyes I didn’t want to admit. That I didn’t think he’d care. That he might even be happy and try to use it as a reason to make me stop working.
“Do you know who it was?”
“No, but I suspect it was Jenna. She seems to think Jude belongs to her. I told her she could have him—”
“Morgan!”
I spun around. “What, Mom?”
She pressed her lips together, and her nostrils flared as she tried to contain her temper.
“Everything okay in here, Benny?”
I looked over my shoulder and found Smokey standing in the doorway. I had seen the way he looked at my mother. Saw him following her with his eyes whenever she was in the room. I turned back to my mother and lifted a brow.
“Everything’s fine, Smoke. Just a little mother-daughter spat.”
My mother walked past me and whispered, “We’re not done talking about this.” Then she left the room with Smokey, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
My whole life all I’d ever wanted was for my parents to be together. I understood now that it was never going to happen, and I wanted my mother to have someone, but I planned to go home after the baby was born.
Back to Rosewood.
And I wanted her to go with me. I didn’t want her falling in love with someone here. Staying here without me.
You can stay.
I shook my head at the voice I heard.
I couldn’t stay.
Not here.
My phone rang, and I smiled when I saw the number. I was still angry with him for interfering, but I was happy to hear his voice.
“Hi, Dad,” I greeted cheerfully.
“Hi, baby. How’s New Orleans?”
There was something in his voice that told me he knew. Had my mother told him? She promised me she wouldn’t. Rian had promised the same, but when his boss called, he didn’t make the same promise.
“Um...”
“Why are you in Arkansas? And why didn’t your mother tell me?”
“Who told you?”
“Your brother let it slip.”
“King knows?” I said, just as Jude stuck his head into the room. He tried to slink back out, and I clipped, “Don’t you move!”
“Excuse me?”
“Not you, Dad.”
I glared at Jude and pointed my finger to the chair in the corner. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.
“Why are you there, Morgan?”
I took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something, but I need you to keep that Irish temper in check, okay?”
“Morgan, if that son of a bitch hurts you again...”
“I’m pregnant,” I said, spinning around and giving Jude my back. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to keep the tears from falling as I waited for my father’s reaction.
“You’re pregnant?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered.
“Is it...” He cut his question, and I knew he wanted me to say no.
“Yes.”
My father let loose a string of curses in Gaelige. He tried to teach me the language, but it never stuck.
Jude stepped in close behind me and took the phone. “O’Malley,” he said as he walked away. I couldn’t hear what he was saying over the blood roaring in my ears. Jude walked through the door that led to church and disappeared.
And I just stood there.
Staring at the closed door.
Wondering what he could possibly be saying to my father.
The head of the Irish Mob.
The man who wanted him dead, because he’d hurt his little girl.
My hand covered my mouth, and I felt things I’d tried to bury. Feelings and emotions that were tied to Jude that I had tried to stuff down and ignore.
Because Jude Peterson, the man I loved, the man I would always love, had just put his life on the line by confronting the one man who meant as much to me as he did.