Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Britton
The machines I’m hooked up to are beeping incessantly and it’s beginning to grate on my nerves.
Thankfully, I’m not malnourished or dehydrated, but according to the doctor, they’re taking preventative measures by monitoring my heart rate and oxygen levels in case there’s something lingering that hasn’t been detected yet.
He also put me on a venturi mask since when I was rescued, we had to traipse through an area where fires had just been extinguished and I got a few lungfuls of smoke.
I also received other news when my labs came back, I’m definitely expecting and I’m both nervous and excited about the doctor’s confirmation.
More often than not, my hand ends up cupping my belly, feeling overly protective of this little one.
He or she may not have been planned but they’re a blessing in disguise.
I find my way of thinking shifting in another direction.
For once, I don’t want to run, I want to stay.
As much as I want that to be with LoneStar, I don’t want him to feel pressured either.
We don’t have to be a couple in order to co-parent our kid, we just need to be respectful of each other and make sure we’re on the same page when it comes to our morals and beliefs.
That thought causes me to snort because I don’t have any idea outside of what I’ve read of what those moralities entail.
I know lying is wrong because honesty matters. I know mental, emotional, and physical abuse can leave lasting scars and triggers that surface in an instant. And I know inserting yourself into someone else’s business can end badly. Beyond that, I’m mostly clueless.
But LoneStar feels like my true north, so I’ll use him as my compass and trust his guidance to get me where I need to be.
There’s a disturbance outside my room. It sounds less like a scuffle and more like a tense conversation, and my heart begins to pound.
The voices are muffled by the thick door, so I can’t make out who they belong to.
Still, one of them sounds familiar, and a spark of anticipation flares inside me.
When the door swings open, the first thing I see is that infamous cream-colored Stetson.
LoneStar steps in right behind it, and tears spill from my eyes.
God, he looks good. I’ve missed him and his presence more than I’ll ever be able to express.
“LoneStar,” I croak.
“Hey, beautiful. You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he replies, his long legs stride through the room and before I know it, he has his arms wrapped around me, making me feel safe, and I break.
I sob big, fat, ugly tears, soaking his shirt.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe. I’ve got you.
” He rocks me from side to side, comforting me.
“I-I-I was coming back,” I swear, my words stumbling out through my wails. I’m an emotional mess. “It all happened so fast!”
“I know it did, baby. The detective told me. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong, darlin’.”
“How could he do that to me? I don’t understand what I did that made him target me.”
“What makes you think you did anything, Britton? Some people are just born with a screw loose. They have obsessive personalities and tend to fixate on certain people. Don’t take on his burden or make it your responsibility.”
I continue rambling, voicing my inner thoughts and questions.
“What was it about me that caught his attention? I don’t want to be the object of someone’s obsession.
I want to live freely, without feeling the need to look around every corner before I cross the street.
Now, I’m scared of my own shadow, and I hate feeling this way. It’s not me!”
LoneStar buries my head into his neck as he brushes his hands up and down my back. Clearing his throat, he tells me, “That feeling won’t last forever, darlin’, but you’ve just been through a traumatic event and it’s gonna take some time to digest it and come out the other side.”
A mirthless giggle escapes me and I say, “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this or not, but I’m not a patient person. When I want something to happen, I want it right then.”
“I gathered that,” he says, laughing. “I’d call it being ambitious.”
“I am a bit of a ball buster when I want things my way,” I tease, my chest feeling lighter than it has since the last time I was in his presence. It feels good to smile and be surrounded by his warmth.
“As long as my balls don’t get caught up in the mix, you can bust as many as you want,” he jokes.
“Will you be there with me?” I shyly ask. Usually, I’m more confident and not as hesitant to ask what I want, but right now, I’m petrified of his answer being no instead of yes.
“Always. As long as you want me there, I won’t be anywhere else,” he promises.
I lick my dry lips, then blurt out the words I’ve been holding in since I saw him enter my room.
“I hope you mean that, LoneStar, because you’re going to be tied to me for at least eighteen years and seven and a half months, give or take.
” To make my point, I take his arm, thread my fingers through his, and press our joined hands over my womb.
“I didn’t know for sure until I was admitted and the doctor confirmed it, I wouldn’t keep something like that from you, but I started having suspicions over the last few days. ”
“You having my baby, Britton?” he asks, his eyes shiny as he stares down at me.
“Yeah. You’re going to be a daddy, LoneStar,” I convey. He lifts the mask from my face and crashes his lips on mine. Monitors go crazy and our kiss is broken when a team of nurses and the doctor come rushing inside.
He gives them a bedazzled look and utters, “Oops. Sorry about that. I just found out I’m gonna be a dad and we may have gotten a little excited.”
“Overzealous is more like it,” I giggle.
“I guess it’s a good thing I was about to come and remove that mask from you then,” the doctor states, giving me a scolding look.
“All of your labs came back clear so we’re ready to release you.
Normally, I’d keep you overnight for observation, but as I understand it, where you’re going, there’s someone there that can monitor you. ”
“There is?” I ask, nobody coming to mind.
“Splicer’s a medic who has the training to see you through this,” Riptide replies as he comes walking into the room. “How you doing, Britton?”
“I’m surviving, Rip,” I answer. “How are things on the homestead?” The only reason I ask him that question is because I remember Professor Stratton mentioning there was some unusual activity going on with the club.
“Same old, same old,” he nonchalantly answers. “Same thing, different day. You know how that goes.”
“I do know how that goes and I’d like this one to be over.” I twist to the doctor and ask, “When can I be discharged?”
“I’d like to get a sonogram done before you leave and they’re a tad backed up at the moment so it’ll be at least four hours before I can sign off on your discharge papers,” he informs me, which causes me to pout.
“Turn that frown upside down, darlin’. I’d like to see our little one and know how they’re doing,” LoneStar admits.
“Little one? Are you pregnant, Britton?” Riptide asks, a blinding smile spread across his face, spanning from one cheek to the other.
“Yeah, man. We’re gonna have a little one in a few months,” LoneStar brags.
“Congratulations, to the both of you,” Riptide raves. “It’s time we start making preparations for the next generation.” I roll my eyes because Elodie is the oldest and is nowhere near ready to start training for club life.
Shaking myself out of that musing, I lightly shove my elbow into his gut and criticize, “You make it sound like it’s going to happen sooner than it is. Give me some time to wrap my head around being a mom before we start planning the birth.”
Riptide barks with laughter, and LoneStar fixes me with a narrow-eyed look. “Britton, I’m not sure whether you know this about me, but I’m a planner,” he says, echoing my earlier words and turning them back on me.
“Would you look at that,” LoneStar exclaims. “We made that.”
My eyes stay focused on the screen. I can’t tell what I’m seeing because it looks like an alien to me. Everything is unrecognizable at first glance until the sonographer points out the fingers, toes, torso, and head. “It looks like a bean to me,” I tease.
“Babies usually do at this stage of pregnancy,” she tells us, not making me feel stupid for referencing our baby as being bean shaped. “You won’t start seeing the details more clearly until you hit your second trimester.”
“Something to look forward to,” LoneStar states, still mesmerized by watching our baby move inside of me. “You’re holding my soul inside of you.”
Those words make me break out into hysterical sobs. I wave away his concern when I see him out of my peripheral lean down into me. Sniffling, I say, “S-sorry. Hormones.”
“Would you like me to print out a copy of your baby’s first photo?” she asks as we hear the machine spit out images of the sonogram.
“Two if you could,” LoneStar requests. “I’m gonna keep one in my cut, close to my heart.”
“Dammit!” I wail, losing the battle of keeping my emotions intact.
The sonographer, Kim, leans over and whispers in my ear, “He’s a keeper.”
“Yeah, he is,” I reply, agreeing with her wholeheartedly.
An hour later, Riptide comes back to the room after heading down to the lobby to make a private call. “The brothers are here to escort us home. Indiana took Splicer to get your car, Britton, and he’ll be driving you back to the compound. I want him with you in case there are any complications.”
“I don’t care how I get home or who drives me, as long as I get out of here.
I hate hospitals and doctors. Fuck knows not one of them ever did a damn thing for me when I went looking for medical help,” I admit, thinking of all the times I needed it most. Instead, they slapped a Band-Aid on the problem and sent me on my way.
“You’re going to explain that to me later, once you’ve had some rest,” LoneStar insists.
I’ve opened up to him a little about my youth, but some of the deepest scars inside me come from more than just my parents. I buried those wounds a long time ago, but I guess it’s finally time to start repairing the damage left by the adults who passed through my life, one way or another.