Another Round

by Belaire, Nikki

  “Really?”

  My own heart thuds in my chest with the crack in her voice. She wants to be as ecstatic as I am but has to make sure. “Yeah, really. You know I don’t lie.”

  She nods and spreads her legs, reaching for me, consenting to me taking her. Her arms glide around my neck squeezing me tight. I hold her just as fierce. Waiting to push inside until her lips find mine, confirming she’s ready for me. I’m beyond ready for her and force myself to slide slowly inside her. Careful not to overwhelm her in my fervor.

  Once I’m buried as deep as I’ll go, I brush my lips to her ear. “Marry me.”

  “What?” The seriousness of my question sinks in, and she shakes her head. Long hair rustling on the pillow from her shocked giggle. “That’s crazy. We don’t even know for sure yet that I’m pregnant.”

  My responding laugh is a thousand percent genuine. I thrust into her with caution just in case. “It doesn’t matter. I love you and want to be with you, and if you’re not pregnant, then I’m going to get you pregnant.”

  “You’re absolutely insane.”

  I answer with my fingers on her clit. Caressing slow and purposeful to quiet down her contentions. Picking up the pace and the pressure to eliminate her arguments. Which is evident in her body rising to meet me and my touch and my promises. “You’re absolutely right.”

  I love the sweep of her tongue over her lips when she’s teetering on the edge. The rhythm of her hips cradling mine to keep us connected. The possessive clutch of her fingers curving around my rib cage as I hover over her. Proving I belong to her just as much as she does to me. “I want you to be my wife. I want you to carry my babies in your belly. I want you to let me take care of you.”

  Her body spasms with the orgasm I induce from my fingers and my words. Which I need to do again and again. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and slide the other under her arse to pull her as close to me as she can get while I drive into her. Protecting our baby within her but making damn sure he knows too how much I love his mother. “I’m going to be your husband, your bodyguard, your protector standing beside you and defending you as you rule the fucking world.”

  So damn close. Her fingernails scrape my skin, doing everything she can to hold on. To withstand me angling to pump deeper into her. “I’ll do anything and everything you want as long as you’re mine.”

  Panting and shuddering and nodding but she doesn’t utter a sound. “Just say yes trouble. Say yes.”

  Until I feel her lips on my drenched chest. Three times she whispers the word I need to hear, and I can’t hold back. Unable to control myself or my release. Blinded for a second from the intensity that overwhelms me from exploding inside of my fiancée.

  “Another round sir?”

  She’s funny and adorable. Radiant as she tops off my glass of bubbly. Glowing from the news I’ve assured her is good. Fucking excellent. Her father’s going to murder me but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is I got another fucking round in life. A second chance I never believed possible in love either. That only my gorgeous, amazing Evie has been able to give to me.

  I run my finger over the row of twelve plastic sticks lying on the counter in front of me. She wanted to be absolutely sure, and with a dozen positive lines, we definitely are. I’m still chuckling over the clerk’s expression when we checked out. A trolley full of pregnancy tests and two bottles of champagne because I already knew we were going to celebrate even if she wasn’t expecting.

  “What are you laughing about?”

  “Just enjoying my turn to be the lush while you’re the bartender.”

  Feisty as always, she gives me the eyebrow twerk and shakes her head. Feigning how insufferable I am when she really thinks I’m hysterical. “Bar’s going to close early if you don’t watch out.”

  So damn beautiful I can’t stop wanting to touch her. I circle her tiny wrist with my fingers and yank her to me, halting her teasing.

  Yeah I want to fuck her. God if I don’t always want to fuck her. But I need to be serious despite the booze saturating my body. “Sometimes it fucks me up how much I love you trouble. I know you think I’m half crazy, and I probably am, but it’s the heaven’s truth.”

  “You are crazy, but I believe you.” Her tone turns solemn too. Burrowing into my chest with her fingers clutching my shirt with a ferocity that slays me. “And I love you too.”

  Another reason I utterly adore her. She may be young and innocent—all the reasons that should probably keep us apart. But she’s also fiercely protective and devastatingly loyal to everyone she loves, which makes me unable to live without her. “I know you’re worried, but we’ll figure it all out. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Just with my Dad and school and everything, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  That’s the easiest answer of all. “I’m going to take care of you just like I always do.”

  A simple nod and a soft kiss confirm she believes me.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Soft lips brush my temple. My mind much too fuzzy from lack of sleep and the extra champagne she talked me into drinking. Double for her since she can’t have any. I crack open one eye, but relax and drift back to my pillow when the bathroom light flicks on.

  I lay my arm across her side, warming her spot so she can slide in toasty warm like she always says she loves from my body heat. Smiling like an idiot in the darkness. Her side. Her spot. Her place next to me. When all I need is her here to be happy.

  Her grinning face floats in front of me. Making me even more pansy arse knowing that she’s happy because of me. Bells ring from far away while she talks to me. Only I can’t make out what she says with the damn wailing in the background. I only want to see her, touch her, but my chest hurts because I know the annoying sound is some kind of warning. Some kind of problem tugging at me. Some kind of reminder telling me something’s wrong.

  The alarm.

  The alarm in the stairs.

  Someone’s coming up the stairs.

  Fuck! I bolt up and fling off the blankets, searching the room for her before I’m even off the mattress.

  Not coming up the steps but going down.

  She’s gone.

  Gus’s gone.

  My entire fucking world is gone.

  I’m swearing and running and grabbing. My jeans and my gun. Jamming my feet into my shoes.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  A plea for each step. A prayer for each stair. A petition for each second.

  I slam open the door, only to be pelted by huge drops stinging my face and torso. “Evie!”

  My head swivels back and forth. Unable to see a damn thing in the stormy darkness. I call her name again and hear nothing. See nothing. Find nothing.

  I race all the way to the river front. Unsure if my Nikes touch the ground or my heart beats in my chest. I scream and scream for her, for him, for them, until my voice cracks. Raw and burning. I cough and I run. Back past our place. All the windows remain dark. Reflecting the emptiness raging inside me without them.

  My feet slip and slide inside my sneakers. Squishy and flooded from the puddles growing on the sidewalk. I skid to a stop in front of the bakery that has the red velvet cupcakes she loves and the oatmeal pumpkin bone-shaped treats he loves when a muffled cry floats toward me on the breeze.

  Fuck! Not a cry but a howl.

  Gus.

  I follow the echo of his pitiful wailing reverberating down the narrow alley between the bookstore and design studio. His soaked tail thumps against the concrete as I approach, and he whimpers in anticipation as I get closer, nosing at a row of black garbage bags half hidden in the shadows. I don’t give a fuck about what he’s found digging through the rubbish until I get closer and fire explodes through my body despite the freezing downpour.

  Evie.

  With some motherfucker kneeling over her.

  Only a surprised yelp sounds from the bastard when I jerk him to his feet by his filthy, drenched
sweatshirt and snap his neck before tossing his body forward into the trash where he belongs. Tamping down my craving to slowly and painfully torture him with the need to get to her.

  Gus stands guard over the woman we both love. She looks like an angel sprawled on the concrete between the uneven piles. The handle of his blue leash lays inches from her palm as if she held onto him until she couldn’t hold him anymore. Blood circles the back of her head like a halo and I can’t tell in the dim light if she’s breathing. If her chest raises up and down like it should. If her heart beats as frantic as mine.

  With shaking hands, I brush the damp strands from her face and her eyelids flutter. Thank all the holy angels above. I cup her pale cheeks more gently then I think I’m capable of with her broken and suffering. “Evie?”

  Emotion and abuse strain my voice, but she seems to hear me. She swallows and lifts her chin slightly, struggling to speak.

  “Help Gus. He hurt Gus.”

  He hurt you. She’s got to be fucking kidding me. Worried about that damn dog while she’s laid out on the god damn fucking ground. I can’t focus on him right now. “What happened?”

  “I-I told him I didn’t have any money, but he wouldn’t let me go. Gus kept jumping on him and…he kept k-kicking him.”

  Motherfucker. I glance over at our dog, cowered down with his wide brown eyes glancing from her to me to her again. “Good boy. Good boy!”

  He barks from my approval to the accompaniment of the rising scream of sirens in the distance. Almost as if he senses the relief in my taut muscles from help on its way, he lays his head back on his paws. I turn back to her, cradled in my hands. “Does anything hurt?”

  “J-just my h-head.”

  Her slight body shivers, and I’d give everything I own to have a blanket or coat to cover her. I curl her to me, trying not to jostle her too much, while giving her the little heat I can offer. “Just a few more minutes, and I’ll be able to get you out of here where it’s warm and dry.”

  Adrenaline races through me, making me almost fucking superhuman. That’s the only way I can possibly crouch down and pull Gus to us. Lifting him awkwardly but somehow getting him settled on her lap. Making me flinch and feel like a bastard when he groans in pain from the rough movements. But he’s safe. They’re both fucking safe now and that’s all that fucking matters.

  I carry them the hundred feet back to Main Street. Following the blue and red flashing lights reflecting on the empty businesses with a few people stepping out onto their balconies from the apartments above. Yet absolutely zero guilt for disturbing anyone because all I care about is getting her to the medic climbing out of the ambulance. Flanked by two officers, hands on their service pieces probably hoping for a false alarm yet ready for the unexpected. Which is definitely me carrying a half-conscious woman and a hero dog out of the darkness shrouded in the bright lights of their headlamps.

  I push out of my chair the second he says I’m free to go. I want to murder him too for keeping me from Evie for so damn long. But a dead man, killed by my own hands, warrants a long conversation. At least in their eyes. Repeating what happened over and over to make sure I’m consistent with the details and match what she told them. At least what she can remember with the minor concussion she’s suffered.

  Bastard deserved so much worse than the easy death he received, and they know it too for attacking a pregnant woman and goofy but fucking brave dog. I did what I had to do and so do they. So despite my ire I keep my mouth shut as I stride out of the make-shift interrogation room only to be stopped by the original officer who helped me after I found them.

  He hands me a yellow post-it note with scribbled handwriting. “Here’s the emergency vet clinic we took your dog to. They’re doing everything they can for him.”

  Appreciative of his concern and assistance, I shake his hand. Although we have opposing viewpoints of what we consider justice, I’m still grateful for his help regarding Gus. “Thank you.”

  He gives a brief nod before turning away. Already on to his next call if his squawking radio is any indication. “Hope it works out for all of you.”

  Me too. I race back to her room and shove open the door. My gut churns from how fragile she looks lying against the beige sheets. Swallowed in the gown they gave her and so broken with matted hair and ashen cheeks. Silent as the doctor talks to her.

  “Everything seems good Miss DeMarco. I don’t—”

  Her gaze meets mine when I step inside. Terror flooding her expression, and she lifts up from the mattress reaching for me. “How’s Gus? Is he okay?”

  Jesus. I clutch her shivering body to me. Attempting to warm her up and calm her down. “No news yet.”

  “I want to see him.”

  “I know but we’ve got to take care of you first.”

  I meet the physician’s eyes, who nods to me over her head. “As I was telling her, aside from the concussion and a few scrapes and bruises, there are no other injuries or areas of concern. But there’s one more test I need to do.”

  I sit next to her, grasping her tiny hand, and keep a constant watch over the technician who’s prepping equipment by Evie’s hip. I’ve had enough bullshit for one night—well now morning—and I’m not in the mood for anyone doing anything else that will harm her or my baby. “Is this really necessary?”

  The doctor glances up from his tablet. He doesn’t seem to be offended by my question. Or maybe he pretends not to be from my tone and appearance.

  “I understand your girlfriend—”

  “Fiancée.”

  Now Evie squeezes my fingers, giving me a weak yet authentic smile. Reassuring me they’re fine. It’s fine. When nothing about this ordeal has been fucking fine.

  “I understand that your fiancée has been through a lot, but this is the only way to evaluate the pregnancy since she isn’t very far along. I want to double check for the heartbeat. It may be too early, but we’ll take a look just to reassure ourselves.”

  There’s nothing I would love more but Evie’s already been through hell, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize her health or her pregnancy. We both look at her and she nods, eager with the speed and force.

  “We want to hear please.”

  “Well it’s too soon to detect it audibly but we’ll be able to see it on the ultrasound as a flashing light.”

  I shouldn’t allow myself to be excited. But I do. I am. Unable to stop myself with her smiling so huge now with the anticipation. Still trembling despite the heavy blankets covering her until the young woman lifts them up to her thighs and down to her stomach, helping her position her feet in the stir ups.

  No one says a word. I’m not sure if Evie and I are even breathing as the physician twists a wand across her smooth skin. Tears actually prick my eyes when the squiggly circle blinks on the black and white screen. Tiny but strong. My child.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Beast mode, only awakened by her, activates when she sobs and not with the same joy exploding through me. The first time I’ve ever seen her full-on cry and the emotion fucking guts me. Her head twists side to side against the rough fabric of the pillow as she squeezes her eyes shut. Huge droplets slip underneath the lids and flow down her pale cheeks. I jump up from my chair so fast the stupid thing flips backward but I don’t give a damn. All I want is her—to find out what’s wrong with her—and fix it. I lean over, cupping her face to hold her still and shut out the rest of the world. “What’s the matter?”

  “I messed up.” She sucks in a huge breath, unable to stop the flood and grasps my hands. “I almost lost all of this because I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have gone outside in the middle of the night without you. I thought it would just take a minute, and nobody would be out there, and I’d be fine, and I’d—”

  “Shhhhh.” Hysterical with fear as reality sets in of what could have happened, she pinches my skin from her manic grip. I pull her against me again, ignoring the awkwardness of the other people in the room watching and her half naked
with a stupid instrument shoved in her vagina. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “It’s not okay. You were right. I’m naïve and reckless. Please don’t hate me. I love you and our baby, and I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want Gus to die because of me. I don’t want you to hate me.”

  She’s exhausted and not making much sense. Yet I still know what she means. I understand the terror and relief and panic she feels because I feel them too. I curl her tighter to my chest muffling her words and hopefully eliminating her anxiety. “I could never hate you. I’m pissed as hell at you but that doesn’t change a damn thing. I love you too and our child. I’ll never leave either of you. I swear to god I won’t. Gus is going to be okay too. I just know it.”

  After a few more sobs, she settles down and her body relaxes in my arms, but I don’t let her go. Not yet. Not when we just saw the first tangible proof of our future together.

  A throat clears next to us. “Well then. I think we’re all done here. I’ll send in the nurse to finish your release papers and home care instructions.”

  I rotate out of the way to give the tech room to work yet remain silent. We’ve already shared way too much personal information with these strangers, and they don’t need to see or hear anymore. Once the woman slides out the end of the bed and draws the cover over Evie, I sit next to her. Gently lifting her up to a sitting position and laying her against me. Needing to hold her so close while we wait.

  “You’re mad at me.”

  I want to say ‘no’ when I hear the uncertainty bobbling in her voice. Lying would be so much easier to just relieve her worry and move past this. But I made her promise to be honest, and I owe her the same. Even when telling the truth isn’t easy. “Very.”