CHAPTER 20
WINDY
Three pink lines.
Positive.
Pregnant
I don’t know how it could be any clearer.
I’m pregnant.
Pregnant by mates who don’t want me, making my life difficult just because I stand up for what I want.
I thought I was just sick due to the pressure they’ve put me under for the last three months, but now I know.
It’s because I was pregnant. When I missed my second period, I just knew something was wrong.
It’s the reason I bought a test in the first place.
When they decided I wasn’t enough, I felt shocked and hurt.
Since then, they’ve gone out of their way to make my life miserable, especially because I won’t agree to a Select-A-Mate rematch.
At first, I tried to ignore them, but they keep pushing, and it’s getting harder for me to handle their torment.
Most of the pressure comes from Wolf. The other two just go along, neither for nor against mating with me.
It’s gotten much worse since they figured out where I work.
One night, Wolf followed me while I escorted a client to Le Petit. I still don’t know how he got the information about where I work. Everything is pretty hush-hush when it comes to Lavish Darlings. I know my boss wouldn’t rat me out because that would affect business.
Since then, it's felt like pure hell. Wolf has been relentless: he called my boss to complain, accusing me of embarrassing him in front of a big client and costing him a five-hundred-thousand-dollar contract.
My boss didn't ask for credentials or blink an eye—she just took him at his word.
No matter how well I bring in clients, I'm on my last strike with her.
While she may be my friend, she’s a businesswoman first and foremost. Anything that threatens her business threatens her very way of life. She doesn’t take threats too kindly.
Leaning back against the bathroom wall, I slide down to the floor.
Pulling my legs up, I wrap my arms around them and tuck my face into my knees.
Dozens of questions tumble through my mind at the speed of light.
I can’t focus on one thing, even when I try.
One of the things I keep thinking about is how I will be doing this all alone.
My mates don’t want me.
Their need to escape makes life hard for me. I’m stuck in survival mode and exhausted.
I’m so tired. It’s the kind of exhaustion that drains you physically and emotionally. I can’t remember the last time I felt whole, or like I could face another day without falling apart.
I don’t know what to do.
Do I continue to fight for them, for the right to be by their side?
Or do I let them go like they let me go?
Tears fill my eyes, sliding down my nose and onto my pants. My chest aches at the thought of giving up, but I know I can’t keep living like this. The last three months have been pure hell.
Words can’t be taken back.
Actions cause pain you must live with for life.
What am I really fighting for?
Three men who don’t want me.
Three men who would rather settle for someone fate didn’t design for them, rather they want to take for themselves.
Do I really want to be with a pack that refuses to put me first?
Do I want to be so pathetic as to fight for people who won’t fight for me?
When did I become so weak?
It’s not only me that I need to think of now. There’s a little life relying on me to take care of it, to put it first.
I need to get my priorities straight.
Even though I want my mates with everything I have, I can’t keep doing this.
I can’t keep fighting for something they don’t seem to want, even if part of me thinks they do.
Something is stopping them, but honestly, I don’t care anymore.
If I let them treat me this way, I’ll be teaching my child that it’s okay to chase after something that isn’t good for you and treats you badly.
I can’t do that.
It’s time I throw in the towel. Having peace and serenity is a lot more important than needing them. Nothing is more important than making sure my baby gets here safely. I refuse to be the cause of anything happening to my child.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here.
When I come to, it’s already dark outside.
I wipe my face, get off the floor, and catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Sadness and exhaustion linger in my eyes.
I see a woman at rock bottom, finally finished with not being enough for someone.
The weight of not being enough turns into resolve—I will not try anymore.
I see a woman who’s finally going to admit defeat and live, rather than merely survive. And I’m not even mad about it anymore. I got the best part of them, and they don’t even know it.
At least, they don’t know yet. Unfortunately, they deserve to know, and I’m not the type of person to keep something like this from anyone. I may be a vindictive person, but I’m not an outright bitch unless you’re really terrible. Even then, I wouldn’t keep something like this from someone.
With my mind made up, I leave the bathroom, slip on my shoes, and grab my purse, keys, and cell phone. I check my phone—it’s just after nine on a Saturday night. I have no doubt they’re at Luscious, where all three always meet on Saturdays. Tonight, I need that.
I get into my car and close the door, maybe a bit harder than I need to.
I throw my bag and phone onto the passenger seat.
When the engine starts, the low vibration helps steady me as I drive away.
The town passes by in a blur of storefronts and traffic lights.
I notice people who seem to have somewhere to go, which feels strange at this hour.
They look carefree, while I’m stuck with this knot of dread in my stomach.
By the time I turn onto the road that leads to Luscious, my pulse is already climbing.
I feel the whoosh of my heartbeat in my ears.
I pull into a parking spot, kill the engine, and step out of the car.
I try to look as if I belong here, like I always do when I come here.
It’s how I kept getting past the bouncer without him knowing the owner really didn’t want me inside.
Tonight, though, I’m not dressed to party.
I’m in a pair of worn jeans, a loose sweater, and a pair of Ugg boots.
They are the most unflattering clothes I have in my closet.
The neon sign hums above the entrance, casting a soft glow over the doorway. I take a deep breath, pull my purse up onto my shoulder, and walk toward the front door. Before I can reach the handle, a wall of muscle steps in front of me, halting my progress.
The bouncer.
His arms fold across his chest, and he shakes his head once. His voice is low but firm when he says, “You can’t go in.”
“Why?”
“Your access has been restricted. You need to leave the property immediately.”
Embarrassment fills me to the brim. My cheeks heat, and I tuck my chin into my chest, not daring to look at anyone around me.
There are whispers and low giggles from the ladies.
The bouncer wasn’t quiet just now, and I know everyone heard him.
By the smirk spreading across his face, he is reveling in my embarrassment.
Jackass.
Also, his words hit harder than I expected.
I knew I was teetering on the line of being kicked out, but I didn’t think they’d actually do it.
Anger simmers in my stomach, hot and sharp, but beneath it is humiliation.
He must see the devastation on my face because he loses the smirk and understanding dawns in his eyes before it quickly turns into pity.
Tears blanket my vision, threatening to spill, but I force them back.
I won’t give them—or anyone—anything more than I already have.
I straighten my spine.
I made my decision.
There’s no going back after this. I can take a lot of things, but humiliation is not something I’ll tolerate.
They knew what denying my entry would do.
Considering the bouncer being as vocal as he is, I already know he’s been tasked to make my humiliation known to everyone around me. That is a new low, even for them.
Our differences should stay between us and not become a humiliating situation.
They’re just like my parents. Down to the blue blood running through their veins. They’ll never change.
“Fine,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Then tell your boss this: I want one thing. Just one. If he gives me that, I’ll leave him alone. He’ll never hear from me again.”
The bouncer hesitates, and for a moment the world holds still. I stand there, awfully underdressed, refusing to look away. I refuse to break in front of these strangers. Whatever happens next, I’m so far past done it’s not even funny.
Before finding out I was pregnant, I was more than prepared to fight until the bitter end. Now, though, I can’t do this anymore. They’re starting to hit below the belt by embarrassing me in front of people, like my family used to do to me.
No more.
The bouncer wipes his expression clear of pity, and his hand lifts toward the earpiece tucked into his ear. Two fingers press it as he tilts his head to the side just slightly.
“Yeah,” he murmurs into the mic clipped to his shirt. “She’s here. Says she wants one thing. Only one. Then she’ll leave.”
A beat of silence. His eyes stay glued to me and unreadable. Then he nods his head once, sharp and certain, like whatever he just heard sealed something inside of him. He drops his hand, giving me a tight smile.
“Head inside. To the right, down the hall, last door on the right.” His voice lowers, almost gentler now. “They’re waiting for you.”
He glances back at the bouncer at the door. “Let her pass,” he says, voice firmer now. Touching his ear, he says into the microphone. “All of you. Let her through. She's here to see the boss.”