Don't Take My Baby (Twisted Ghosts MC)

by Zoey Parker

  I blinked at him. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to make a phone call,” Zane snapped. “Just do what I said, Isabella. Don’t even fucking think about going anywhere.” His eyes flashed in anger and he stalked towards the door of his bedroom, opening it and slamming it behind him.

  I listened to his footsteps grow fainter and fainter. My heart was slamming against my ribs. I had no idea what to do, and I was terrified that he knew about the baby. But since I knew he wasn’t fucking around, I slowly lowered myself into bed and covered my body with the sheet. I swallowed hard. What was he going to do to me?

  Chapter 12

  Zane

  My mind was racing as I ran down the stairs with my phone clutched in my hand. Suddenly, everything made sense. I knew the words before I could even think of them. She’s pregnant. And it’s your baby in her belly. “Fuck!” I cursed loudly, balling my hand into a fist and slamming it down on the counter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I half expected Isabella to let herself out of my room and come down the stairs, but even if she heard me causing a commotion, she didn’t make a sound. I couldn’t believe it. This could ruin everything. The coke deal. My life. Isabella’s life.

  I couldn’t believe she hadn’t told me. The more I thought about it, the more obvious everything became. I knew that she’d seemed different, and this seemed to answer almost every question. She’d been in a somber mood, she’d been starving, and the vomiting? God, it was too easy! I felt like such a fool for not questioning her sooner. And for not wearing a rubber during one of the times we’d fucked. Hell, even if she hadn’t been pregnant, she probably would have been after the marathon sex we’d had earlier that night. I could just see Lionel now, chastising me for not wrapping up my dick. He always warned me to be careful around women, and I winced when I imagined his reaction.

  As a kid, I thought his attitude towards women had been cold. But now I almost understood. You didn’t want anyone getting too close; you didn’t want anyone trying to attach themselves to you. The family business could be a very dangerous business, and I had a feeling that if Isabella knew what having a baby with me entailed, she never would have let herself get pregnant. Too late for that shit. She’s already knocked up. It’s not like I can take the kid back.

  With trembling fingers, I dialed the number of a doctor Lionel and I had helped out a few years back. He’d had a problem with gang members showing up to his practice and harassing some of the women he treated. Now, he still owed us a few favors. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Hi, Zane,” Dr. Jennings greeted me in a tired voice. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need you to come over to my place, pronto,” I snapped. “Bring your bag.”

  Dr. Jennings hesitated. “Is it…another one of the same cases?”

  I rolled my eyes. A couple of months back, Dr. Jennings had to come over. I’d brought a girl home and she’d OD’d on heroin when I was in the bathroom. Jennings had fixed her up and sent her home. I knew he was worried about liability, but damnit. He owed me, for fuck’s sake.

  “No,” I snapped. “Just get here. No one’s gonna sue you, old man.”

  The line went dead with a click. I couldn’t keep thinking about Isabella or I was going to snap. I was so angry with her. I couldn’t believe she’d kept this from me! It was my fucking child, too, and I deserved to know. Maybe she’s not really pregnant, I thought. Maybe it’s a big fucking misunderstanding. But then my eyes caught sight of the pizza box on top of the recycling container. I remembered how Isabella had inhaled half of the pizza before I’d even made it through one slice. No, she was definitely pregnant. There was no way a woman like Isabella would be able to get over her self-consciousness and eat like that, not in front of a man she was still trying to impress. I shook my head. Great observational powers, Sherlock, I thought sarcastically. You’ll make a fuckin’ good detective.

  In the back of my mind, I remembered Jake’s car show. It was tomorrow. I frowned. I’d have to do something, get someone to watch Isabella so I could leave the house for a couple of hours. I’d never had a woman staying with me for protection before, and I was just now starting to realize just how much energy I’d spend on keeping her locked up safely.

  There was a soft knock on the door. I opened the door and saw a breathless Dr. Jennings, clutching a worn leather bag. I stepped back and Jennings followed me into the house. “What can I do for you, Zane?”

  My jaw clenched so hard a pain shot through my mouth. “There’s a woman in my room,” I said through gritted teeth. “She’s pregnant, or at least we think she is. Give her a blood test. I need to know the results now.”

  Jennings looked visibly relaxed. “And the woman,” he started in a soft voice, “is she here of her own free will?”

  I laughed drily. “Sort of,” I said. Jennings looked alarmed as I led him up the stairs.

  Isabella was sitting in bed. She’d dressed in her shirt and a pair of my pajama pants. She looked alarmed when she saw Jennings.

  “Relax,” I snapped. “He’s here to give you a test.”

  Isabella nodded, looking numb. I couldn’t stand the sight of her so I went downstairs, plugging my fingers in my ears so I wouldn’t have to hear Jennings explain the process to Isabella.

  I paced back and forth in the marble foyer, clenching my hands into fists at my sides. I never prayed, but I let out a silent prayer that Isabella wasn’t pregnant. It was more than I could deal with at the moment. Having a kid would fucking ruin everything.

  God, he was taking forever! It had been at least thirty minutes. I checked the clock: it was after two in the morning. Shaking my head, I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. I gulped it down in two swallows, then reached for another and did the same. Finally, a warm, familiar buzz came over me. I tried to sit down but I couldn’t sit still, and finally resorted to pacing in front of the stairs, like a fucking dog waiting to go for a walk. Come on, come on, I urged silently. Hurry up! I’m fuckin’ waiting here! I kept my ear turned towards my door, listening for a sound, listening for anything. I didn’t know if Isabella was the type to shriek and cry at bad news, but I winced every time the floor creaked above me.

  After what felt like an impossibly long wait, Jennings emerged from my bedroom at the top of the stairs. He started down the stairs, walking silently in his orthopedic shoes. When he looked at me, I realized I couldn’t read his face.

  “Well, doc? What’s the damage?”

  Jennings swallowed. “The young woman is, indeed, with child,” he said. “And she has told me there’s no way it could be anyone’s but yours.”

  The news hit me like a punch to the gut. Even though I’d suspected as much, I didn’t want to believe it was actually happening. This was too much. Isabella, pregnant with my child. After a fucking one-night stand! When I’d never even wanted to see her again!

  I put my head in my hands.

  “Bad news?” Jennings touched my shoulder and I angrily pushed him away, as if the whole situation was his fault.

  “None of your fucking business,” I snapped. “Get out of my house.”

  As I watched the headlights from Jennings’ car fade away, I realized I was now going to have to protect Isabella and our unborn child, no matter what. If anyone found out she was carrying a child, she’d be the first target on their list for a ransom. And there was no fucking way I was going to let that happen.

  Grimly, I turned towards the stairs and glared at my closed bedroom door. I may be angry as hell with you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you, I thought as I closed my eyes. I swear.

  Chapter 13

  Isabella

  “This will only take a second,” Dr. Jennings said in a soothing voice. He wrapped a rubber cord around my arm and held it tight. “I only need a little blood.”

  I blinked. “Couldn’t you do a urine test instead?” I hated needles, and the sight of one was making feel even sicker.

  Dr. Jennings shook his head. “Bl
ood tests are more accurate,” he said, focusing on my arm. He placed a rubber bulb in my hand. “Pump this slowly,” he said. “With urine tests, there’s always a little room for error. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

  The panic rose in my belly as I saw the light reflected off the needle. Dr. Jennings moved closer and I winced as I felt the sharp tip poke the soft flesh of my arm. Even though he’d assured me it would be over in a second, the needle still hurt like hell. The foreign feeling of cold metal invading my body made me shudder, but I couldn’t keep from watching the blood fill the tube coming out of my arm.

  Dr. Jennings chuckled. He was a nice, respectable-looking old man. I couldn’t understand how he knew someone like Zane on intimate terms.

  “How do you know Zane?”

  He chuckled again. “We’ve been friends for a long time,” he said drily. “I help him out now and then. He returns the favor.”

  Part of me wondered what someone like Zane could offer a doctor, but I didn’t ask. Dr. Jennings’s curt tone made it clear he would rather be done with the subject sooner than later.

  “We’re almost done now,” Dr. Jennings said in a soothing voice. I winced as he gently slipped the needle away from the crook of my arm. He was holding three tubes filled with my blood. “We just need to run these now.”

  I sniffled. “I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “I feel really embarrassed about the whole thing. It’s the middle of the night, and you probably had to wake up to come over here.”

  “Hush,” Dr. Jennings said in a mild tone. “I’m a doctor. I’m used to getting out of bed in the middle of the night because a patient needs me. Zane is no different. This isn’t exactly the first late-night call he’s made.”

  I frowned. I wished he hadn’t told me that. It made me wonder if Zane had thousands of bastards running around out there. Or thousands of women who had gone through abortion because he didn’t want to step up and be a father.

  “He knows I’m not going to blackmail him, doesn’t he?” I craned my face up to meet Dr. Jennings. “He doesn’t think I was trying to do this on purpose, does he?”

  Dr. Jennings shook his head. “Dear, he said nothing of the kind to me,” he replied in the same mild voice. “And I wouldn’t assume the worst. He’s a good man, just very hotheaded. He needs space when he gets angry.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s probably downstairs pacing like a nervous father.” I laughed awkwardly. I hadn’t meant to spark any conversation about a baby, but I hadn’t really been thinking about my words either. When Dr. Jennings gave me a pointed look, I blushed. “Do you think he wants a baby?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

  Dr. Jennings looked at me. “I couldn’t begin to tell you. A lot of men aren’t exactly welcoming of the news that their partner is pregnant. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t devoted fathers when the baby arrives.” He walked over to the other side of the room and pulled some pamphlets out of his bag. “Have Zane read these. They might help him understand.”

  “So I’m definitely pregnant?” I looked around, feeling lost.

  Dr. Jennings sighed. “It looks that way,” he said, gazing down at the test kit. “You’re about eight weeks along. For now, we’re going to book you a couple of appointments down at the clinic. And after that, well, you have a lot of waiting to do. Nine months doesn’t seem like a long time but for a woman with baby in her belly, it’s going to seem alternately too long and too short.”

  I blushed again. I couldn’t believe I was pregnant. I did feel different, but I’d never been pregnant before. I had no idea what to expect. I wished I could go back in time and ask my mother what it had felt like when she learned she was pregnant with me. Had she been excited? Had I been planned? Or had she been disappointed and scared and alone?

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about stuff like that, not if it meant dredging up memories from the past. I wondered about how my father had felt, too. Even though he died when I was young, I had a few good memories of him. He used to let me sit on his lap after dinner when we’d be watching television, and he used to read to me at nights. I remembered his strong voice, slightly accented with a bit of Italian. Dad had been like me: blond and blue-eyed; he’d been from the northern part of Italy. Mom had been from the south. I remembered her squat, dark frame, her masses of black hair, her heavy, angular face. Part of me wished I looked more like her. Instead, I was like a carbon copy of my father.

  Was that what would happen with our baby, too? Would he favor one parent completely over the other? And the sex! What were we going to have, a boy or a girl? Suddenly, a wave of giddiness swept over me. I knew it was the middle of the night, but I felt awake and full of energy. Like I could run a marathon, or even something more challenging.

  “There is one matter left to discuss,” Dr. Jennings said in a smooth tone. “Are you planning to terminate the pregnancy?”

  The visions of cute, chubby Italian babies vanished from my mind, along with the sudden burst of energy. I blinked, feeling disoriented. “I’m not sure,” I said softly. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I just found out a few days ago myself, when I took a urine test at home.”

  Dr. Jennings looked at me thoughtfully. “I understand you’ll need some time to make a decision. The reading material you have will help you. But if you do decide to proceed down that path, we’ll need to schedule the appointment sooner than later. Time is definitely not on your side here, Isabella.”

  I blinked. “How soon do I need to make up my mind?”

  “Fairly soon,” Dr. Jennings replied. “The time is almost up for a medical abortion; you’d only have about another week where that would be a good idea. Then you’ll have a few more weeks to decide about whether or not to have a traditional procedure.” He looked at me over the tops of his rimless glasses.

  My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. All I could do was nod. I felt dazed, bleary, exhausted. Like I wanted to go back to sleep.

  Dr. Jennings sensed a change in my demeanor. “I’ll be leaving now,” he said softly.

  I watched as he gathered his supplies and slipped them back into his bag. When he was in the bathroom washing his hands, I sat down on Zane’s bed. My limbs flopped gracelessly on the silk sheets and I let out a long sigh.

  “Thank you,” I said shyly when Dr. Jennings had returned. He’d straightened up and he looked very much the respectable doctor once again. “I appreciate you coming out here tonight. I know it probably wasn’t much fun for you.”

  “It’s my job,” he said drily. “Will you be all right? I can prescribe you a light sedative if you need it to sleep, but I’d recommend staying away from anything heavier.”

  “Please,” I said softly. “My head is swimming right now.”

  Dr. Jennings dug in his bag and handed me a blister pack of pills. “Take half of one with a full glass of water, about ten minutes before you want to go to sleep,” he said in his calm, sedate voice. “And, Isabella, I want to be very clear with you: if you decide to continue with the pregnancy, there are a few things you’ll have to avoid.”

  I blushed, feeling like a schoolgirl. “I know I can’t drink or smoke. Or eat sushi.”

  “Caffeine is also not recommended,” Dr. Jennings said. “And your appetite will increase dramatically, but I want to encourage you to eat smarter, not just more. Gestational diabetes is rising in this country, and I wouldn’t want you to have to deal with that on top of everything else. Try snacking on avocado toast or a whole grain carb with almond butter. It’s the kind of healthy fat your body needs.”

  I nodded. “I promise I’ll take good care of the baby,” I said softly. Emotion overcame me and I found myself sniffling as Dr. Jennings got up to leave.

  “Good night, Isabella,” he said from the doorway. “Sleep well.”

  I expected Zane to barge into the room immediately but he didn’t. I got up and started pacing. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he coming to talk to me? I felt a shiver of fear run down m
y spine. He wasn’t going to hurt me; if he wanted to hurt me, he probably wouldn’t have called the doctor. But what was taking him so long?

  Just then, Zane burst into the room. I jumped at the shock as the door banged against the wall. Zane’s dark eyes looked menacing as he stalked towards me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the baby?” Zane gestured towards my still-concave belly. “Why not, Isabella?” He glared at me and I cowered, pulling the sheet over my frame. “Isabella, this isn’t the kind of shit you keep to yourself!”

  “You were ignoring me!” I cried out. “You kicked me out after we spent the night together and then you never called me! What the fuck was I supposed to do?”