by P. Jameson
“Where will you stay?”
He pulled the cup away and set it on the side table before answering. “Here, with you.”
“Oh.”
“Someone needs to watch you,” he explained roughly. “Might as well be me.”
Great. Now she was even more of a burden to him. He probably couldn’t wait to be free of her.
“You don’t have to. One of the Dolls will do it,” she answered quietly. “They’ve always been there for me before. And now that they know the truth… well, you’re off the hook.”
“That might be so, but I still have nowhere to stay. So I’ll stay here.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “You don’t have to worry about the smoke. I quit. And I’ve asked Mama Kitty to wash all my things so you won’t smell it. Just in case… you know, in case it makes you feel queasy.”
She blinked as his words hit home.
He quit smoking. For… her?
Something wrapped around her heart feeling like a soft blanket. Warm and comfortable. She didn’t want to name the emotion because she didn’t know what name matched it. But damn, she really liked what it did to her inside. Especially after the emptiness of the nightmare.
“It’s not good for the baby,” Smokes muttered. “Doc says smoke can really mess shit up for ‘em.”
No, not for her then. He’d done it for the baby, right? But the baby was part of her.
“I’ll have ‘em bring in the extra couch from Felix’s room. There’s room for it right over there.” He pointed to the wall adjacent to her bed. “I’ll sleep there until you’re better.”
Until she was better. “So you’re planning on being here for nine months?” She had a feeling she wouldn’t feel better until the baby was free of her body.
Finally swinging his gaze back to her, he frowned. “If that’s what’s needed.”
His answer wasn’t what she had expected. But was he serious? Because why would he make that kind of commitment?
“You won’t need to do that, okay. What’s in the water?” she asked to change the subject, half expecting him to list off something illegal or harmful.
“Electrolytes. Something the other doc brought.”
“Other doc?”
“Yeah. She’s helping get the things you need.”
She. The word threw Janet into a strange spiral of jealousy. She had never—not even in her wild college days, never—been jealous of another woman. Sometimes she envied the happiness the other Dolls had, but that was a different emotion.
She stared at Smokes as he fidgeted beside the bed. She desperately wanted to ask him more about this woman doctor, wanted to gauge his thoughts on her. Did he find her appealing? Was she staying in his room too? Janet remembered staying there for a night while the clan had patched up the bullet holes left in her room from one of Bastian’s attacks. Smokes had stayed elsewhere for the night, but she’d slept in his bed, touched his things, wondered about whether or not they were important to him.
Was the girl doctor in there now, doing the same things?
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Your cheeks have more color in them than they’ve had in the entire time I’ve known you. Don’t tell me nothing.”
“Just trying to get my bearings.”
He crossed his arm over his chest, his gaze telling her he didn’t believe what she said.
“Is she pretty?”
His expression went blank. “Who?”
“The doctor.”
“Weaver thinks so.”
“What do you think?”
Smokes stared at her, his eyes narrow and intense in that way that she was coming to realize was just him. He didn’t say anything right away. He only held her gaze until she felt like she was on fire. Or maybe that was just her cheeks blushing to death.
“I think you should get some more rest while you can.”
What kind of answer was that?
She knew what it was. It was avoidance. Because the doctor was obviously beautiful. And here Janet was looking like twelve shades of ill. Even on her best day, she looked like a shell of her former self. What he must think of her.
Oh, who was she kidding. Even if she was gorgeous, she was carrying a stranger’s baby. What man would want her like this?
None.
And what the hell was she thinking about a man like that anyway? Men were monsters. She didn’t want one. Didn’t need one. Mating was for the other Dolls. Not her.
Turning onto her side, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the fact that she was alone. Or… wasn’t, as was the case.
Chapter Eight
Smokes stared at Janet’s back, studying the careful way she breathed. In and out, yes, like any other person. But with her, there were hitches and intentional pauses that left him wondering just how long she’d been trying to control her nausea.
He lowered himself back to the chair he’d pulled alongside her bed.
What had made her ask about the female doctor? As if she cared what he thought of the woman. No one’s prettier than you, he wanted to tell her. No one I’ve known before, and no one will compare after. But he’d kept it in. Just barely.
Hyperemesis Gravidarum. That was the technical name for what was wrong with Janet. Nausea so extreme that it became dangerous.
The fluids the doctor pumped into her were helping. She wasn’t as weak, and didn’t seem like she’d drift away when Smokes wasn’t looking. But she was still too fragile. She would need to be strong to carry the pregnancy and bring the baby into the world.
Janet shivered, curling her legs up as far as they’d go.
“Are you cold?” he asked. It was unlikely, since her room felt like an oven and she was piled with quilts.
“Mm hm. Can’t get warm these days.” Her response was bracketed with a hard shudder.
Smokes stood. “I’ll go find some more blankets.”
“Don’t bother,” she murmured. “They don’t help. They’re just… heavy.”
He stared at her back, measuring her breaths again. “What will help then?”
She let off a weak snort. “Lay me on a fire? I dunno. Get one of the cats to torch me? That would feel heavenly right about now.”
“You’d also die,” he deadpanned. “So that’s not an option.”
“Well, you asked.”
Smokes raked his palm across his jaw, thinking. He had an idea, but it was probably a shitty one. Hell, she might even hate it more than he would. Only one way to know.
He turned for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back.”
Smokes shut her in and hurried down the hall to Fang’s room. The idea of borrowing the cat’s clothes wasn’t altogether welcome. But his room was close and contained a dresser full of smoke free options. And bonus, Fang was gone for who knew how long, tracking down the Lost Daughters of the clan. He wouldn’t miss a random t-shirt or pair of sweatpants.
In the room, Smokes rummaged through the drawers, looking for something he could use. The first drawer was full of random junk. Smokes only gave it a quick glance but definitely had to pause when he spotted a floppy rubber chicken sticking out among the rest of the stuff.
What the fuck? Don’t think about it. Whatever Fang was doing with a rubber chicken was none of his goddamn business.
The second drawer wasn’t helpful either. It contained piles of papers, each stacked neatly in each of the four corners. The middle was more randomness. Pocketknives and watches and pens and spare tools.
In the third drawer, he finally found what he was looking for. A row of neatly folded t-shirts in every shade of monochrome, from white to black.
“Well, shit…” Smokes was impressed. His own t-shirts were just thrown in a drawer at random, along with his socks. Unmatched. Either Fang had his shit together better than they all thought, or he was looking for ways to distract himself and figured he’d give organizing a try.
Smokes yanked off his own shirt and pulled on one of Fang’s black ones. It smelled like the detergent Mama Kitty used. Better than the smoky one he was wearing. Then he tracked down some sweatpants and traded them with his jeans.
There.
Now he could help Janet.
Making his way back to her room, he wondered if what he was considering was dangerous. It could be. If he messed up.
No. He wouldn’t fuck this up. It would be easy. He’d held women before.
Just not any that he wanted as bad as her.
He entered the room quietly, and avoided her gaze, walking around to the side of the bed where his chair was. She hadn’t moved while he was gone, and for a moment, he just stood there. A million doubts ran through his head. There was no possible way he was going to get this right.
Pulling back the quilts, he eased into the bed beside her, feeling like a nervous teenager instead of a man. How did she do this to him?
His hand shook as he pulled up the blanket.
Shit.
This wasn’t going to work.
Janet turned her head to watch warily over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Smokes cleared his throat. “You’re cold. I’m hot. I can help.”
Her eyes fluttered away, but he didn’t miss the sadness in them. “You don’t have to. You’ve done enough.” His heart lurched in his chest. Nothing would feel like enough until she was warm and smiling and healthy.
They had a long ways to go.
He moved closer, sliding his arm up under her pillow, and she stiffened at his nearness. “Lean into me.”
“I... I don’t…”
He brushed the hair away from her cheek and leaned in to murmur, “Do you trust me?” He held his breath waiting for her answer. He wanted a yes. He would understand a no.
“Yes,” she whispered, and his heart rattled double-time in his chest.
“Then lean into me.”
A second passed, then another. Doubts and more doubts. But he waited. He decided right then, he would never ever push her. She deserved patience, even if he had none to offer.
Another shaky breath before she shifted backward, pressing her slight weight against him. And the moment felt heavy. Huge. Her trust was more than he could hope for.
He normally tried not to touch her as much as possible, to keep himself under control. So that he wouldn’t hurt her or tempt his beast too much. But now… now his touch was necessary. She needed it.
Moving slowly, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and found her icy hands where they were tucked under her chin. He curled them in his to keep them warm. Janet was stiff with trepidation, but after a moment, her body released a hard shiver and she relaxed.
“You’re so warm.” The satisfaction that seeped from her voice made him feel like he could rule a kingdom. One where she was the queen.
“Shifters usually are. Even more so if there’s a Firecat inside.”
“A Firecat,” she murmured sleepily. “Will you have one?”
Not if he had anything to say about it.
“Would it scare you if I did?”
“No.” She sounded sure. “The Firecats are… good. They protect. They’re safe.”
“They’re not safe, Jan. They are dangerous. Just like any other beast.” He remembered what Skittles and Ratchet and Monster did to Bastian’s mansion. Razed the thing to the ground with nothing more than a few roars. They’d lost Felix in that fire.
“Mmm. But they don’t want to ruin people. That’s a big plus in my opinion.”
It was true as far as he could see. The new animals that grew in some of them didn’t want to destroy, even though they easily could. They wanted to grow and multiply.
And save. The one inside of him, desperately wanted to save Janet.
Mine.
No.
Janet pressed closer to his chest, shivering as her body warmed, and he couldn’t help the thread of pride that zinged through his center. It was working. This contact was helping her feel better. Too many times in his life he’d tried to help, only to fuck things up even more. But this time…
She stiffened against him. “What’s that?”
“What?”
“That sound. Rumbling.”
The sound cut off when he realized he was making it. Purring. He hadn’t made noises like that since he was a young panther.
“It sounded like—”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”
“I’m not worried,” she said. “Just… curious.”
Of course she was curious. They were so very different. And here he was in her bed, closer than she probably wanted him. He owed her an explanation. But what was the easiest way to explain.
“It just means… it means I’m… glad.”
“Glad about what?”
“I…” He sighed. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
She shrugged, easing back against him. “I’ve never heard anything like that before.”
Maybe telling her wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe sharing this little bit with her would appease his unwanted beast.
“You’ve heard about our raising, haven’t you? About the way our Father’s trained us to be monsters?”
A small nod. “As children, they hurt you until you shifted. And then tortured the animal to force it back inside.” Her voice was small and sad. It reminded him of himself as a boy. Small and sad.
“They would punish us for things beyond our control. Things that just happen with children. I was older than the others. Not by much, but a little. And I had learned how to take the scourge better. Could withstand it more. So I would try to help sometimes. I’d take their beatings. Take the blame for whatever shitty mistake they’d made in the Fathers’ eyes.”
Janet turned to look at him, her brow furrowing. “You tried to protect the others.”
“I figured it would make me even tougher. That’s what they taught us. The meaner they were, the stronger we’d become. So, the way I figured it, I helped out the littler ones, and get stronger in return. Easy tradeoff. Except, it didn’t work like that. My idea of helping just fucked things up more.”
“What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. The point is, sometimes I want to help, but helping turns into hurting. This time, you were cold, and helping… actually helped.”
“So you were glad.”
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
He held her gaze too long, getting lost in it, in the sweet way she watched him. Like she wanted to know more. He wished he could show her so much.
Don’t kiss her, don’t kiss her. She wouldn’t understand, and neither would his heart.
“Are you warm enough now?”
She nodded. “Mostly.”
Releasing her, he rolled onto his back, putting space between them.
“You changed clothes.”
“The others were smoky. These are clean.”
“Oh.”
“Try to sleep, woman.”
“Okay.”
Janet closed her eyes and he pulled the covers up to her chin. In minutes, she was fast asleep, and he let his eyes get their fill of her. He committed details to memory. The darkness under her eyes, the hollowness of her cheeks. Things he was going to make sure filled out to healthy as quickly as possible. And the parts of her that would always stay the same. Like the tiny brown freckle above the peak of her upper lip. He would kiss it one day—no.
No, he wouldn’t.
He was disgusting and vile and charred. He tarnished everything he touched. It was true. He would never poison her with his mouth.
Never.
Sadness choked him harder than any smoke ever had, as he swallowed back wave after wave of pointless emotion. He was thankful she was asleep and couldn’t see him.
Keep her safe. It was his only fucking priority. Even if denying his own heart felt like ripping it straight from his ribc
age. He could withstand so much pain. More than anyone knew. He’d withstand this, and much more for Janet.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. Even if it meant staying far, far away. He wondered if the arm’s length he had put between them was enough.
Chapter Nine
Janet knocked on the door of Mama Kitty’s office and took a deep breath. For the first time in too many days, she was freshly showered, wearing clean clothes, and had even brushed her hair. She felt more like herself than she had in a long damn time. She had Smokes and the doctors to thank for that.
It was a miracle what a week could do. A week full of electrolytes and anti-nausea medicine and rest. Lots of rest. So much rest that she was feeling a touch antsy and ready to do… something.
And she hadn’t seen Smokes since the night he slept in her bed. He’d kept his distance since Dr. Gregory was taking care of her now. But if she was honest, she missed him.
“Come in,” Mama Kitty called. Her real name was Leah but almost no one around the warehouse used it. She was just Mama.
Janet edged the door open to find the woman with the telephone receiver tucked between her shoulder and ear. She waved Janet toward the sofa and urged her to sit.
“Mm hm. Sure thing, Dr. Gregory.” She paused, a quiet laugh slipping from her lips. “Sorry, Logan. Of course. I’ll let her know. Thanks.”
She was still smiling as she hung up the phone, but when she looked over to find Janet staring at her, she quickly straightened her expression.
“That was the doctor. He’ll come by later this week to do your checkup, and he’s bringing the ultrasound machine.”
Ultrasound. This week. Wow, that was quick.
“The ultrasound machine. That means…” Janet’s hand went to her growing belly. “That means I’ll see the baby.” The idea of seeing what grew inside her… well, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Mama Kitty nodded. “Yes. If you want. Is that something you’d like to do?”
Janet opened her mouth to answer but no words came. “I don’t know,” she said finally.
“Well, you don’t have to decide right now. Think about it.”
What would seeing that gray blob on the screen mean? It wouldn’t change how it got there.
