UNDRESSED: Soul Catchers MC

by Zoey Parker

  I push out of the sofa, her arm falling away. She doesn’t chase me as I pace back and forth from the TV to the couch. I’m running from what she’s implying. Asking Luke should be out of the question, but we’re talking a pregnancy here. His baby. Luke Hanley is the father of my child.

  Could I look him in the eyes and confidently tell him he’s going to be a daddy?

  My hands grip my belly; I massage soft, pliant flesh. Soon I’d be showing, and putting it off would be impossible in a few months. And then there’d come a time where the baby would be kicking…

  I notice Kerry’s gaze on my wandering hands. I drop them, letting my heavy hands squeeze into fist at my sides.

  “I can’t tell him. He doesn’t love me.” I come to the conclusion, and saying it aloud makes it all the more real. “Kerry, he doesn’t love me...and he won’t love this child. You don’t understand. I can’t open this baby to that.”

  “So what? You’ll hide it?”

  “If I have to!” I stare at her wildly, my eyes wide, bulging, fists rising up in front of me. “I won’t let him hurt this baby. And I’m not going to get rid it.”

  Kerry stands slowly, her hands out in front of her in a placating manner. I might have found it funny she’s taking such a stance, but I do feel a bit like a skittish foal. A deer-in-the-headlights staring at my unknown future as it crashes into me.

  “All I want is for you to see where this is headed. You can’t hide it, hon. This baby is as much a part of Luke as it is a part of you.” Kerry’s words unleash the well of tears I thought I had exhausted after all five tests popped up with two bright pink lines.

  Her words, wise and true, come down a tunnel at me. Like an out-of-control car I’m seeing my new future as a sudden young, unwed mother with no clue how to raise a child.

  “Luke is here now, and that says enough. He chose you; he chooses you every time he walks into your apartment,” Kerry says. “Give him a chance to be a father first, before you act as his judge, jury, and executioner.”

  “Executioner?” I snuffle.

  Kerry grins. “Okay, I took it too far. But you get what I’m saying.” She grabs an ice cream container and wiggles it. “Now come here and take your medicine.”

  Coaxed back to the couch, the fight ebbing from my fatigued body, I consider what she’s said. I should give Luke a chance, I know that. The sane part of me is nodding her head enthusiastically, but she’s also a hopeful romantic. That part of me conjures a fantasy where Luke and I have our family surrounding us for a dream wedding.

  Fantasy Luke grips for my belly, now swollen with his child. He beams down at me and traps my mouth in a passionate, toe-curling kiss.

  The fantasy pops.

  I’m back on the couch, my hand cold from clutching the ice cream container, my tongue thick in my mouth. I glance at Kerry. She’s chattering away, trying her best to keep the mood light.

  She’s become such a champion for Luke. She doesn’t know Luke and I have a deal. An alibi is the glue holding us together, maybe a bit of lust, but not love. At least not on his part. If Kerry knew, would she still be encouraging me to speak to Luke?

  I only remember it’s past noon on a weekday when Kerry stands to announce her departure.

  She stopped over during her lunch break after I sent several texts to her at dawn. She gestures to the ice cream. “Eat as much as you can. Don’t worry about calories or cavities for today.” She brushes a kiss on my forehead, squeezing my shoulder. “I’ll be back later to check on you.”

  I called in sick to work. It’s a first for me.

  I’m not even experiencing morning sickness. Not yet…something else I have to look forward to now my life’s taken a different turn.

  I rub my belly, wondering how something so tiny—about poppy seed size according to the pregnancy websites I scoured through in bed after sending the texts to Kerry—could take over my life.

  Instead of doing as Kerry remedies, I put the lids on all the ice cream and juggle them in two trips to the fridge. Stocking them in the freezer, I head to my bedroom and return to bed, my hand finding my phone on the nightstand.

  I find myself tapping into my contacts tab. Luke’s number is under my parents’ number, aptly named ‘Home.’ But I haven’t recognized it as home since they all but kicked me out.

  One mistake and I was blacklisted in their eyes. I was no longer their coddled little girl but a flawed young woman who should be able to pull up her big-girl pants and handle herself.

  I blink away the tears, forcing my mind from them to Luke. It’s not a good place to be either, not when I think how such a wonderful blessing, and I can’t think of a baby as anything else, could have arrived at such a wrong time. If only the stork stayed away for long enough. I could have sorted my feelings for Luke, figured out what he felt for me too.

  “Now it’s too late,” I sniffle, wiping at the tears tickling my cheeks, warm and salty. I toss the phone to the space behind me, giving my back to it. I quietly cry myself to sleep.

  # # #

  A knock in the early evening rouses me from a dreamless slumber.

  I feel zombified. Staggering into the bathroom first, I sluice water on my crusty face. The knock is heavier now, loud and demanding. I blink, wondering why Kerry’s pounding so hard.

  Then my sleepy brain pushes out a realization. It’s not Kerry at the door at all.

  It’s a slow walk, and I startle when the door pounds again with the heavy rapping. Someone’s eager to be answered and it gets me wondering how long they’ve been out there, pounding away and trying to get my attention.

  I’m standing in front of the door, ready to tiptoe to the peephole when Luke’s voice stills me.

  “Lily, open up.”

  I stare wide-eyed, hand reaching out to caress the cool door like it could substitute for Luke’s hard, muscle-rippling chest.

  “I know you’re in there. I fucking swear, if I have to hunt down the landlord or the whole fire department to open this door, I’ll do it.”

  Not wanting that drama, I unlock the door, stepping back for Luke to let himself in. I hug my arms around my middle.

  And then Luke’s gathering me into his arms.

  He’s locked us in the bubble of my apartment, and I can’t stop the waterworks. I’m a sobbing, hiccupping mess when he turns me to his chest and holds me to his heart. One of his hands massages my scalp, the other smoothing up and down over my back.

  I’m crying so much I feel empty when the tears stop and the shuddering calms. Little ripples rock through me as he pulls me back, his hands cupping my cheeks. Luke’s green eyes are bright, astute, but even he can’t guess what’s eating away at me.

  “Why are you here?” I ask, voice hoarse and sorrow-weighted.

  “Really, Lily?” Luke lifts his brows. “You weren’t at work. I noticed. I worried. I almost tore apart the office trying to figure out just how sick you are. So tell me, what hurts? What can I do to make the pain go away?”

  Before I can control the word vomit, I blurt, “My heart. And you can’t make that pain go away.”

  Luke rears back from me, his hands falling away slowly, and his gaze boring down from his full height. I try to turn from him, but he grabs my wrist.

  “Let go,” I blubber, tugging feebly. “Let go of me. Please.”

  “Not until you explain yourself.” He’s back to bossy Luke, though I think I hear a roughened catch to his voice.

  “I don’t have to explain anything to you.” I turn on him sharply, punching my free hand into his chest. He captures my other hand and holds my fist fast to his chest. I’m trapped. “You never share anything with me!”

  “What haven’t I shared with you?” he snaps. “What would you like to know, Lily?”

  I stop struggling, glaring up at him. The anger feels better than the gut-emptying, soul-sucking depression. “Did you do it? Did you really kill that man? And why? How could you?”

  Luke’s bitter laugh is frightening. He push
es his face to mine, his hot, minty breath teasing me. “So you want to know why I killed Derrick Smyth? Why I had him killed? I’ll tell you, Lily. I’ll share the bastard’s story and leave it up to you to decide, but I won’t apologize for it and I won’t look back.

  “Derrick Smyth was a rat, a traitor. He played to my sympathies because, as he saw it, I was young, innocent, and too damn weak to dole out the punishment he deserved.

  “Mr. Smyth made money however he could. If he could sell stolen kidneys, rip them out of unsuspecting victims, he would and he did. He pushed young girls into prostitution as a pimp, and he sold child pornography.

  “And years ago, way before you sauntered into my father’s office, he came to my doorstep and he asked for a loan, and I was a stupid, young fool who didn’t do his research. I unknowingly funded all of those disgusting projects, Lily, for years. And he was always one step ahead of me when I tried to hand his ass over to authorities.

  “So when I got the chance—when I finally had Derrick in my grasp, yeah. Yeah, I pulled the trigger. And I’d pull it again because one thing I’m not anymore is a man who regrets his decisions.”

  I let his story, his history sink in. Meanwhile my eyes dart over his features, taking in the slashing vee of his brows, the flaring nostrils, bared teeth, and angry flush staining his cheeks, creeping up from his chest where the top buttons of his dress shirt parted open.

  I’ve really gotten to him, with the help of Derrick Smyth’s vile ghost.

  It’s hardly the right time to make the announcement, but it’s tumbling out of my gaping mouth. “I’m pregnant.”

  It’s so breathy, that one word, I don’t figure he’s heard. Yet his brows sink deeper, his mouth clamps close and his gaze darts over my face. I can hear the cogs working in his mind as he jumps from Derrick Smyth’s evil legacy to my news.

  “You’re what?”

  I lower my head, unable to say it again staring him head on. All of this is happening so fast. One moment I’m determined not to share anything with Luke and the next I’m rushing through it, like the window of opportunity is shutting, closing forever.

  “I’m pregnant. In the family way. Carrying your child.”

  “I heard you,” Luke pushes out the words on a long exhale. “How? I mean, I know how, but when? But how too? Weren’t you on the pill?”

  I glower at him. My wrath at his implication of my being at fault with the birth control pills makes it easier to look at him. “Last time I checked I was taking my pills just fine. Besides, what happened to wanting to do it without the condom on Sunday?”

  “That was three days ago. You don’t get pregnant in three days.”

  He’s right, but it only irritates me more. “Well, how do I know you weren’t popping holes into your condoms?”

  “Oh, Lily,” he shakes his head.

  “Don’t do that.” I snap. “Don’t turn this on me.” And then the wrath slips away and exhausting melancholy supplants it. My hands lay limp in Luke’s hold. I stare holes into his strong chest. “I didn’t want this, but I’m not going to lose the baby. I’ll raise him or her alone if I have to.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  I find his steely eyes, horror replacing the waves of coming and going sorrow.

  What I hadn’t factored into my planning a new future around the baby is Luke’s wealth, not to mention his charisma and sway in Potentia. He could easily take this child from me and keep him or her far away.

  Once that idea is implanted, I can’t uproot it. Struggling against him with renewed vigor, I yell, “I will. I will! It’s my baby. Mine! You’re not going to muscle in here and do what you want, not this time, Luke!”

  “Lily—” Luke’s tone is warning. I’m pushing him…and he’s not used to it. Well, he better get comfy because this is how I’ll be treating him from now on, so long as he plans to rip my child from me.

  “You don’t even want the baby,” I snap.

  “Who said I didn’t want the baby?” Luke roars.

  I yelp, shutting my mouth, my eyes wide with a surge of shock.

  We’re both panting. It’s as close as we can get to being hot and bothered in each other’s company without actually doing the deed.

  “So,” I blink, licking my lips. “You want the baby then?”

  He glares down at my belly like he’s got Clark Kent’s laser vision and can see our little fetus nestled away in there, safe from mommy and daddy’s angry words. “Of course I do. It’s my baby, isn’t it? A Hanley doesn’t turn their back on family.”

  I’d say something smart and snippy then, maybe along the lines of how I don’t know much about the Hanleys, but there’s a subtext in his statement—more to the comment than a random boast of bravado. I have no doubt Luke will take care of whatever he sets his mind to, and if he really does care for this baby, then he’ll be there.

  For the baby, I remind myself. And in nine-ish months, I won’t come with the baby as a two-in-one deal.

  “Fine,” I say.

  “Fine,” he echoes.

  A silence stretches on endlessly until Luke gives my wrists a squeeze. “So, you’re not really sick?”

  I bite my lip, shaking my head slowly.

  He nods curtly. “Good. I guess we have two reasons to celebrate.”

  But I’m not sure either of us is up to celebrating, not after the ugly words we’ve traded. They could have been nastier, sure, but this is the closest to a fight we’ve had since that first time.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t want you think you have to raise the baby. I can do it alone, really.”

  Luke slowly raises my hand on his chest to his lips, brushing his mouth over my knuckles. “You’re not alone. Not ever again.”

  I’m tearing up again. Luke’s small smile is coming through a blurry veil. I hate to be falling into hope when I’m not even clear on what he means. Surely he isn’t suggesting we…

  “We’ll get married, if that makes you happy. Or we could wait, see the pregnancy through, and then talk wedding.” Luke’s deep voice rolls out more possibilities, planning our lives. He mentions how he’ll have to talk to his father, introduce me to Floyd Hanley more properly, and how he’d like for me to move in with him.

  It’s everything my heart wants to hear, but I’m telling him the exact opposite. “I can’t.”

  Blinking rapidly, I raise my eyes to the ceiling to get my grounding. A couple deep breaths help. Luke waits, confused, for me to elaborate.

  “You’re doing it for the baby, and as much as I appreciate hearing you’ll be a good father, I can’t move in with you. And we definitely shouldn’t be talking marriage—” I’m cut off, Luke’s hand cupping my mouth. The rest of what I had to say, along the same fall-over-my-sword lines, is muffled.

  “Has anyone ever told you, you think too much?” Dropping his hand away, Luke sighs. He releases my hands, freeing his arms to snake around my middle, pulling me against him.

  In my camisole and leggings I can feel all of his delicious male hardness. If I wasn’t waiting with bated breath to see what he has to say, I’d have been rubbing against him, trying to get to the thickness kissing my belly.

  “I would have done this eventually.”

  “Married me?” I ask, breathless at this odd proposal.

  “Yeah, someday…maybe,” he says.

  At my frown, he rushes on, “I would have liked to get to know you more, have this unfold more organically, but we’re having a baby. And I’m fucking ecstatic.” Luke smiles shyly, his gaze darting to a spot over my shoulder. “And, uh, yeah, I’m happy it’s you. Not that I’ve been seeing any other women.” He winces.

  I laugh.

  Luke’s deeper, gruffer laugh mingles with mine.

  “Not my finest moment,” he says when we settle down from the hysterics. So much has happened—the laughter is what we needed. The mood between us clears up, right as rain, and the future is brighter, crisper, and more welcoming.

  “About tha
t celebration then?”

  “Trying to change the subject,” I laugh. “I do have ice cream in the freezer.”

  Luke’s gaze scorches a path to my chest. “Ice cream sounds great. And I think I know where I’d like it.”

  Flipping me around then, Luke presses me to the door, his body covering mine. I drag a leg up and hook it over his hip and around to his ass. I push him closer, almost getting our crotches together. Luke has to help me there, his hands hoisting me up. Then using the door as support, we grind against each other.

  My clit finds purchase in his relentless hips. They work fast, his zipper bumping me a couple times, sending skitters of pussy-clenching pleasure through me. I moan my release, seizing back against the door, allowing the cresting waves to rise and crash before rippling off to calm.