Chapter 7
Dixie
The morning didn’t do much to make me feel like things were on the upswing.
I thought seeing my home burning down on live TV was going to be the worst. Until I realized after I showered that I’m putting on big box store panties and clothes from the night before because I have literally nothing else.
Penn had breakfast made and ready when I came out, and I have to admit that it’s kind of nice feeling doted on. I’m always the one who takes care of others, and knowing I’m going to be doting on another human for the rest of my life both thrills me as well as fills me with dread.
I will be solely responsible for making sure this tiny human stays alive. Alive, healthy, and happy. That’s a tall order for someone who doesn’t even have a roof of her own.
Now, we’re sitting in Penn’s pickup as we drive to Castlerock to hit up the mall there.
I’m not sure exactly what I’ll be able to afford with the small amount I have sitting in my bank account, though.
I do still have about a thousand dollars that Stephen tossed at me in my purse, but I don’t think that’ll get me very much nowadays. Especially at a mall.
I glance in the side mirror and notice two motorcycles following behind us.
The clean-shaven jaw of Capone jumps out at me.
That man is a walking contradiction. Or, riding, I suppose.
He looks like he should be wearing an expensive three-piece suit and driving luxury cars.
Total mob like. But he wears leather, has slicked-back black hair, and a clean jaw.
Which I think makes him the only one in the club without a beard. Or scruff. The man’s always pristine.
Then there’s Kannon behind us. I don’t know the story behind Kannon, but he’s the complete opposite of Capone.
Ragged would describe him best. He’s almost always drinking—unless he’s riding—with unruly hair that could use a good trim and a bushy beard that’s long enough that he ends up eating his mustache most of the time. He’s got demons I can only imagine.
“They’re following us?” I ask.
Penn doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror. “Yep. Until we get back home, we have shadows.”
“It feels unnecessary.”
“It is necessary until you tell me the name of the guy you think may have tried to kill you by setting your home on fire.”
And there it is again. No matter how hard he pushes, I won’t give him a name. I’d think he’s punishing me, but I know he’s just being protective. Someone tried to kill me, and I have to imagine it’s not easy for an alpha male like Penn to not take action.
Why he’s so intent on helping me, though, I don’t really understand.
There was no attempt at intimacy last night.
Not that I was in a place to make a coherent decision one way or another after everything, but there was nothing.
There’s really no bigger boner-killer than having a woman carrying another man’s baby. It just doesn’t make much sense.
We find a parking spot close to the entrance, and a heaviness fills my chest. I have to start completely over. I don’t even have the basics to fall back on.
“Ready?” Penn asks, turning off the ignition.
“Not really,” I admit, but I step out of the pickup anyway. “But I can’t wear exactly one outfit forever.”
A faint smirk touches Penn’s lips, and he nods toward the mall. “Let’s go.”
We walk inside, and the blast of the air-conditioned air doesn’t help the sweat already beading on my back. My anxiety has kicked up at least three notches, and the loud noise of the mall doesn’t help. Squeaks of sneakers on the floors, overlapping conversations, and bright lights overwhelm me.
I’m a homeless pregnant bartender walking beside a massive biker with two more only God knows where right now. They’re near. I know that much.
Passing a maternity shop, I notice the mannequins wearing beautiful, flowy pastel dresses as their fake hands hold their fake baby bellies.
My hand rests on my stomach before I realize it, and I wonder what I’ll look like once I start showing.
It shouldn’t be too long now. Would this be a look I’d want to pull off?
Then the rest of it hits me. I need a crib. Stroller. Diapers. Baby clothes. Wipes. Blankets. Bottles. And a whole host of things I know I’m forgetting.
I don’t have the money to afford all of this. With Stephen, I knew we could make it happen. But now? I’m actually worse off than I was at seventeen.
What does that say about me now?
“Dixie?” Penn asks.
“I need to sit,” I choke out and stumble over to a bench in the middle of the large hallway as people pass by in blurs.
He crouches before me and places his large hands on my knees. “Breathe. Do you need me to get you something? Is it morning sickness?”
There’s such concern in his tone, and it almost makes me burst into tears. He’s so considerate, and I was nothing but sarcastic with him. And now look at him. He’s helping take care of me.
“I don’t have enough,” I manage to get out.
“Enough what?”
“Money. Stability. Plans. Anything,” I say.
He frowns. “You have time to get everything squared away.”
“I have six hundred dollars in my bank account, and money that St—I was given for the abortion I’m not getting. That’s it. I need more than sixteen hundred dollars’ worth of stuff. And that’s just the start of it all.”
“You’re not doing this alone, Dixie,” he says, his voice soft. “I told you last night that you’re staying with me. That way, you don’t have to worry about rent, security deposits, or electricity. I’ve got that covered.”
The pathetic chuckle comes without trying. “I’m a charity case.”
“Not at all.”
“You just told me that I can live off of you, Penn. That’s charity.”
Shaking his head, he sighs, and I think he might be trying to pick his words carefully.
Considering I’m a wash of emotions and hormones right now, I can’t really blame him.
“Accepting help doesn’t mean you’re a charity case.
But you have to remember that you have one job right now, and that’s what you need to be focusing on. ”
“One job?”
“Growing that human inside you. Let me worry about the rest of it. That’s what I’m here for, and it’s something I can do to help.”
I have to know. It doesn’t make sense, and I need to understand what I’m walking into. “Why are you doing this?”
“Excuse me?”
“You barely know me. I’m just the girl who pours your drinks and turns you down when you flirt with me. Why do you care so much?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, and his thumbs rub unconsciously along my thigh, sending little jolts of electricity between my legs. For a second, I think he might decide I’m right and pull away. Get me set up at the motel and grab some thrift store items for me while I figure out the rest.
“Because you deserve to be safe. And because I can. It’s really as simple as that.”
Standing up, he pulls me gently to my feet. I feel a little stronger now, but I still don’t fully understand what’s going on. “I’ll pay you back.”
“We’ll see about that. Now, I saw you eyeing up those maternity dresses. Should we start in there? You’re going to need something to grow into. Might as well get a few things now to have on hand.”
If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d be overly offended. But he’s right. I’m only going to grow outward, and I need something that fits me when it happens. “I don’t know if I’m a flower gal.”
“I think you might be surprised,” he says with a smirk. “Let’s go see what they have. We can always come back for more when we need it.”
We. We can come back. When we need it.
This is how I expected Stephen to react, not Penn.
It’s not even his baby, but he cares more than the real father. What does that say about Stephen?
And Penn?