Chapter Forty-Nine #3
“I’m a musician. I’ve seen this play out before. It’s okay to have all the feelings,” he replied.
They were bombarding me all at once, even though I should wait to have confirmation before my mind went into overdrive.
The easiest thing would be to go to the clinic and end this before I got attached. Before anyone else smelled me and got opinions. There were so many reasons not to have a baby.
But on the other hand, it wasn’t a terrible thing to have a child at my age. Assassins could be mothers. I was also taking a break, both the voluntary one for our safety while everything died down, and with the whole fact that right now I was technically off the rosters.
Of course, it would make it more difficult to get a cover job if I was pregnant.
At the same time, I didn’t really need one. Also, I could simply take out my mate’s offer to work for him. I could record with him. Spend time with Fiona. Then go back to being an assassin eventually.
“Do you know I’m older than you?” I asked suddenly.
“It doesn’t surprise me. How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-seven.” Four years older than Fiona. Which was part of why I’d been wary of her chasing me at first.
“Oh, I’m almost twenty-six.” He nodded.
But I knew that. I went silent again.
He gave me another big squeeze as we went to the store. We walked down the aisle of the pregnancy tests, and I got a couple of different ones.
“Do you want to use the bathroom here? We also don’t have to go to the townhouse. We can go to my place,” he added.
“Can we?” Yes, that sounded better.
He nodded. “I want you to see my place. Um, I plan on keeping it, though obviously you’re welcome there whenever you want.
I’m keeping it as a recording studio, not as some sort of a fuck house.
Really, I didn’t take anyone there for sex.
It was more like a good place to have friends over without my moms trying to feed everybody constantly. ”
“I can understand how at your age you may not want your mothers to bring you snacks while you play video games,” I replied as we checked out.
I followed his lead as we took the subway and ended up in an area I hadn’t been to. We went into a clean, but understated building.
“This is one of those work and live buildings. It’s a lot of recording studios, influencers, small businesses, and artists. We have regular socials on the roof,” he told me, as we got off the elevator and he unlocked an unmarked door with his phone.
Plaques hung on the wall, recognizing his songs and achievements, along with photos of him with various people.
A couch sat there with matching chairs and a coffee table.
It looked like part lobby, part living room.
Three doors were closed, two of which had numbered keypad locks on them.
There were shelves of books, making it feel homey.
A beautiful painting hung on one of the walls.
“One of your moms painted that?” I asked.
“Yep.” He took me over to one and punched open the door. “Here’s my recording studio.”
“You’ve come a long way since the shower,” I replied. It wasn't large but probably perfect for his needs.
“I have.” Dusty nodded.
We went back into the living room, and he took me to another locked door. It was a small room with a bed that had a bunch of stuff on it, an open closet, and a messy dresser
“I was in here a few days ago, rummaging through everything trying to figure out what I wanted to move into our place and what I wanted to leave here. I never fully moved out of my moms’, so I just bounced back-and-forth, depending on what worked best for that day.
But don’t worry, I’m all in at our place,” he assured.
“It’s okay to want your own space. I like my own space, too.”
“You can always come here. I’ll give you all the codes,” he offered.
“Thank you. Where’s the bathroom?” I looked around, there was a closed door that wasn’t the closet.
“I have a guest bathroom, it is probably a lot cleaner.” He led me to the third door off the living room, the one by the bookshelves that wasn’t locked with a keypad.
“I’ll make some tea.” He gave me a kiss.
The small bathroom was quite clean. It even had a window and a shower. Closing the door, I followed the instructions, peeing on the stick. As I waited, I checked my phone. Fiona had texted.
Fiona
Getting a lot of anxiety. Are you okay?
Me
After our workout, I had to go announce my presence just so no one thought I was here to cause any wars with Russia.
Fiona
I could see how that might cause anxiety.
The little plus sign appeared, and I tried very hard to block my feelings from Fiona as much as I could.
Shite.
I did the next test to be certain, as I continued to get love through the bond with Dusty.
“The tea’s ready when you are,” he said through the door.
The second test was the same.
No. No, no, no, no.
I sank down to the floor, my back against the bathroom door as I stared at it. If I stared at it hard enough would it change?
It did not. No. I was pregnant with Dusty’s baby.
Shite.
A multitude of emotions swarmed me. Fear. Angry. Worry. Could we do this? Should we do this? What had I even been thinking? How could this have happened?
A tear streamed down my face as I rested my head on my knees.
What worried me was that part of me was happy about it.
Perhaps I was ready for a family. And not just to spite the people who said I didn’t deserve one.
Maybe I wanted to actually have Dusty’s chaotic spawn and be happy with him, Fiona, and our pack. Dusty would make a great dad. The entire pack would make great parents.
Yes. Part of me was ready to embrace this.
And that frightened the rest of me most of all.