His Miracle Baby: A Bad Boy Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  I took a deep breath and sat there, waiting for the full magnitude of my decision to come washing over me.

  Nothing happened. If anything, I felt a little bit lighter and freer.

  I was finally done with the mob. No more worrying about what they thought and what they wanted. No more buying their hookers and paying for their services. No more sending a little extra as a kickback every once in a while just to keep the bosses happy. I was done, plain and simple.

  The thought didn’t scare me. They could definitely destroy me if they wanted to, but that didn’t matter at all. Maybe I was ready to be destroyed. Maybe I was ready to find out what I was really made of.

  Maybe I was ready to burn it all the fuck down and start afresh.

  I laughed out loud and grinned, looking out over the city.

  21

  Charlotte

  Three Weeks Later

  I stared at the computer screen, feeling like absolute shit, and clicked the save button.

  It uploaded to my Dropbox and I took a deep breath.

  It was finished. The article was finished.

  Three weeks of my life were poured into this thing. I showed Coop an early draft only two days ago, and he put researchers at my disposal, real, serious researchers.

  But I didn’t write the article he thought I was writing. I didn’t write the article I refused to write, because I knew I wasn’t going to betray Bull like that.

  Nobody had seen it, not yet. It was just saved to my personal Dropbox, and nobody else had access to that.

  I felt horrible. I felt drained and exhausted and bloated and bad. That wasn’t entirely from writing the article, and as I sat there staring at the computer, I couldn’t help but reflect on the fact that my period was exactly two weeks late. I was incredibly regular, and I’d been counting the days since it should have happened.

  It hit me like a lightning bolt. The article, Bull, my period. I stood up and got a glass of water, feeling dizzy. I glanced at the clock, and it was only six o’clock on a Tuesday evening.

  The article was done at least. I didn’t know what I’d do with it, or what would happen if I showed Coop, but I couldn’t let myself care. He’d probably be pretty pissed, considering I wrote something completely unlike what he wanted me to write.

  I even kept him off the scent by asking the researchers for a bunch of useless information. He probably thought I was hard at work on the original hit piece, but he would be very, very wrong.

  I walked back to my desk and shut the laptop lid and then walked into the bathroom. My heart was hammering in my chest as I got the pregnancy test out of the cabinet and read the instructions.

  “Great,” I mumbled to myself. “Pee on a stick and find out if you’re screwed or not. Pretty simple.”

  I took the test out of the box, sat down on the toilet, and tried to make myself pee.

  But I was too nervous. I just kept thinking, over and over, about what the hell I would do if I really was pregnant.

  I hadn’t spoken a word to Bull since the day Marta caught me and he threw me out of his apartment. I couldn’t stop thinking about how he knew that I was a journalist the whole time. He knew that I might be playing him, and yet he stuck around anyway.

  He didn’t need to do that. He told me things, knowing full well what I might do with them.

  I shook my head. I had made the right decision. I didn’t write the article I had set out to write, just like I promised myself I wouldn’t.

  I sighed and peed. I held the test under the stream, finished up, and then placed it on the sink.

  I leaned against the wall to ponder my fate for one minute.

  I stared down at my feet. The memory of Bull’s body came back to me. He wore a condom, I was sure he wore a condom, but they weren’t perfect, especially when it came to a man like Bull.

  He wasn’t gentle. He could easily tear one of those flimsy, thin things into shreds. Of course he broke the condom. How could I have expected anything different?

  I picked up the test a minute later.

  It was positive.

  I stood there, staring at the test.

  Little blue plus sign.

  I checked the directions.

  Yep, definitely pregnant.

  I dropped the test into the trash and got out another one. I sat down, peed, and waited.

  I picked it up. I was definitely pregnant.

  I groaned and wished I had a third test, but I had only been paranoid enough to buy two. I had never really believed I was pregnant, but I was, I really was.

  I was pregnant with Bull’s baby.

  I sat down there on the bathroom floor and stared at the second test in my hands. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry or scream or run away. How could I be pregnant by a man who didn’t even want to talk to me?

  But I was, and there was no changing that. I didn’t know a thing about having babies and raising kids, and yet I was expected to have one in nine months. There was no way I could give it up for adoption or have an abortion; those options were just against my morals. I understood why people made those decisions, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  I felt so incredibly stuck and alone. I knew the world was still happening all around me, but sitting there on the cold tile with my hands squeezing a plastic pregnancy test that just kept screaming in my face, you’re pregnant, you’re pregnant, I felt like everything came to a screeching halt. I felt like the air in my lungs was on fire and nothing was going to continue.

  But I took another breath. And another one. And eventually I threw away the test, stood up, and left the bathroom. I got another drink of water and was glad that I hadn’t been drinking any alcohol. I’d been too busy to go out with friends and coworkers for the last few weeks, and I’d been too nervous to drink when I was around Bull before that.

  At least I was probably going to have a nice, healthy baby.

  Not that it mattered, since I was so totally screwed.

  22

  Bull

  She was young and pretty, exactly what I expected her to be. She sat on my couch with her back straight, her posture perfect, her tight pencil skirt tugged slightly up her creamy thighs. The glasses she wore almost made her look like a porn star, but I guessed that was the point.

  I was barely listening as she talked. She was exactly the right kind of woman for this, and I knew she’d be great, but there was just something about her. I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly was drawing me toward her, but it was really bothering me.

  I hadn’t heard from Charley since that day three weeks ago. There were a hundred different times when I’d wanted to call her and talk to her, even just to hear her voice, but that was just weakness talking. Bull wasn’t weak and didn’t beg women to come back. She betrayed me and broke my trust, so we had to be finished.

  But that didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about her. Truth was, ever since I threw her out of my life, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I couldn’t get her out of my head, no matter how much I wanted to.

  She wasn’t the only person I cast aside that day. Rafa had called me a few times over the last three weeks, but his last message had been two days ago. I hadn’t given that piece of shit a second thought, except for when I saw his number blowing up my phone.

  The message, though, that kept echoing in my mind. “Bull, listen. You should call me back, otherwise I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be crying. Better hire someone to help out. Call me.”

  The bastard was still threatening me. I didn’t care what he thought he was going to do, but I knew I needed to try to protect myself, even if I couldn’t exactly.

  Which was why I found myself sitting across from one of the most highly recommended PR girls in the business.

  “Any questions?” she said, and looked at me with that perfect smile. Lacy Gray was a consummate pro, and much younger than I thought she’d be.

  “Not really,” I said.

  “Listen, Mister Dixon.”


  “Bull,” I said. “Please.”

  “Okay, Bull. I can help you. Let’s not pretend like you don’t have a really bad reputation. If it weren’t for your skills on the field, I doubt you’d still have a job.”

  I laughed. “Yeah. I’m aware.”

  “But you’re getting older. You’ll start slowing down. You have a good career ahead of you, but you’ll need someone to help you navigate it.”

  “And you can help me?”

  “I can.”

  “What if something major happened? What if they caught me with a dead hooker?”

  “I’d spin it. Or I’d use my contacts at the police to keep it out of the media. Or we’d bribe whoever could be bribed.”

  I grinned at her and instantly liked her. She was no bullshit, even if she was playing it up a little hard.

  I leaned back against my couch. A storm was coming, and Miss Gray had no clue what she was getting into. But if she was half as good as she said she was, she might be able to help me keep my job at least. I didn’t expect to get through this completely unscathed, but I hoped to at least remain employed and getting paid. Maybe my already shitty reputation was about to get worse, but I could handle that.

  Suddenly, my phone started to vibrate. I made a face. “Sorry,” I said as I took it from my pocket. I stared at the number for a second, very surprised.

  It was Charley.

  What the hell was she calling for now? It had been weeks, and we hadn’t so much as spoken a word to each other.

  “Excuse me,” I said, and stood up. I walked across the room and answered the phone.

  “Charley?”

  “Hi, Bull.”

  There was a short pause. “What’s up?”

  “I need to talk. It’s pretty important.”

  “I said everything I needed to say a few weeks ago, Charley.”

  “I know, but this isn’t about any of that. It’s really, really important.”

  “It’s a bad idea. We’re finished.”

  “I’m at your building. Your doorman won’t let me up.”

  I blinked, surprised. Charley didn’t seem like the crazy stalker type to me, but maybe I was wrong. She was downstairs, totally uninvited and out of the blue. This was very, very weird.

  But something was telling me to give her a chance. Maybe it was something in her voice that I couldn’t exactly understand, but I felt like I needed to let her up.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll have him send you up. Five minutes and then you’re gone. Get it?”

  “Okay,” she said.

  I hung up the phone and then called the front desk and let the doorman know that she was fine to come up.

  The elevator slowly drifted up. I walked over to Lacy. “I’m sorry,” I said. “This won’t take long.”

  “Take your time,” she said, because of course she’d wait. I was going to be very worth her time if she landed me.

  She’d have plenty of work on her hands soon enough.

  The elevator dinged and I walked over. Charley stepped out, and the first thing I noticed was how tired she looked.

  “Bull,” she said. “Thanks for letting me up.”

  “I’m not giving you an interview,” I said right off the bat. “And you can’t take pictures. I don’t know what you wrote, and I don’t fucking care. As far as I’m concerned, you and me are done. Get it?”

  I hated myself for saying it, but I knew I had to be hard if I was going to get through this.

  If I let my guard down for a second, I knew I’d forgive her and give it another chance. It was so stupid and weak of me, but I couldn’t help it. Just seeing her brought back all those fucking feelings, intense desire and calm need, all of it mixing together in this one beautiful person. But we were done, and I couldn’t go back on my word.

  “This is hard,” she said.

  “I get it. It’s hard, but we have to be done.”

  “No. I mean, what I have to say. It’s hard to say.”

  I felt impatient and sad all at once. “You should go.”

  “Wait. Listen, Bull.”

  “No. I decided I don’t want to hear it anymore. I don’t care what you have to say. I gave you a shot and you fucking stabbed your little dagger into my back, so get the fuck out.”

  “Bull,” she said, exasperated.

  “What do you need me to say to get you to leave?”

  “Bull, I’m pregnant.”

  I stared at her, practically stumbling backward. “What?”

  “I’m pregnant. I haven’t slept with anyone but you in, god, months I guess. I’m pregnant with your baby.”

  “Holy fuck,” I said. “Fucking hell. When?”

  “I just found out.”

  I took a couple steps back, not sure exactly what I was feeling. It was part panic, part fear, and part something I couldn’t exactly name.

  Something like pride mixed with joy.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I said.

  Just then we heard another voice, snapping us out of the moment.

  “Pregnant girlfriend?”

  Charley and I both looked over. Lacy Gray was standing there a few feet away.

  “I can help with that. Give me a call, Bull.” She handed me her card and then got into the elevator. The doors slowly shut.

  I shook my head and felt like this wasn’t real. I felt like I was losing my mind. The room felt tiny, and it was getting smaller every second.

  23

  Charlotte

  I couldn’t read the expression on Bull’s face as we sat out on his balcony. I remembered the view, but my memory of that day wasn’t exactly positive.

  And so far, this day wasn’t going great either.

  I knew it would be hard. I hadn’t spoken to Bull in weeks, and the way things had ended between us was pretty bad. I was embarrassed and angry and mortified, and the last thing I wanted to do was to tell him.

  But I knew I had to. I couldn’t just go through with having his child and never tell him. I’d done some bad things to Bull already, but I wasn’t about to do anything worse.

  That was why I just showed up at his place. I knew he wouldn’t want to talk to me any other way, and I had to tell him in person. It just wasn’t the kind of thing you texted someone about. I mean, what would I have even said? “Hey, Bull, you knocked me up! LOL!” That didn’t exactly hold the kind of serious weight I was going for.

  He stood up and put his hands on the railing, looking off into the distance.

  “So what are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  He looked back at me. “You can do whatever you want, just so you know.”

  “Thanks.” I bit my lip. “I was thinking about, you know, keeping him.”

  “Him?”

  “Her maybe. I don’t know.”

  He nodded. “Well, okay. Whatever you want.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m not sure that fucking matters.”

  “It does to me.”

  “I want a lot of this to have never happened.”

  That hurt. I felt like he knocked the wind out of me.

  “Oh,” I said.

  He looked at me. “I don’t regret you and me. I just—I wish you hadn’t done what you did.”

  “I get it.”

  “I’m still angry.”

  “I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just had to tell you. I don’t want anything from you.”

  He nodded and looked back out into the distance. “I guess this is good for your article. Or maybe it’s bad. I don’t really know anymore. Journalistic ethics seem pretty shaky these days.”

  I deserved that, but I didn’t understand why he was being so distant. Regardless of what had happened between us, I was having his baby. In the end, that was all that mattered. I was having his baby and we were going to have to deal with that fact. I wasn’t asking him for money or even to be a part of this child’s life. I just wanted him to know what was going on.


  If he wanted me gone, then I would be gone. It was as simple as that. I wasn’t going to force him into something he didn’t want to be a part of. I was done manipulating Bull for my own damn selfish reasons.

  This baby was bigger than either of us. That was all I cared about anymore.

  “Forget about the article,” I told him. “I didn’t write it.”

  “You didn’t?” He glanced back at me. “That’s a shock.”

  “Well, I did. I wrote something, but it’s not what you think.”

  “Ah,” he said, laughing. “Can’t stop yourself from lying, can you?”

  “I’m not lying. Bull, it’s not some hit piece. I haven’t even submitted it yet.”

  “Not some hit piece? There’s no point writing about me if it’s not just some piece-of-shit slander article. How else will you get all those clicks and likes?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “You know it is. You used me. I knew you probably were, but I took a chance anyway.”

  “It started out that way,” I admitted. “I’m not going to lie. It started out with me using you for my job, but it changed into something else.”

  “What did it change into, Charley?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, “but I was going to tell you. That day, I was going to tell you. I was going to destroy those pictures and tell you, but Marta walked in at the exact wrong time.”

  “You were taking more pictures.”

  “I know.”

  “So you decided to scrap the whole thing as you were violating my privacy?”

  I sighed, shaking my head. It was so stupid, and the truth sounded like a lie, but that was what had happened.

  I shifted myself in my chair, leaning toward him. “That’s what happened.”

  “Too bad you didn’t just come clean to begin with. I would have understood. Hell, I knew who you were from the start.”

  “How did you know, by the way?”

  “My mafia friend told me.”

  “Our mafia friend.”

  “Well, not mine anymore.”