by Lane Hart
“Fine, see you there,” I tell her before getting in my car without answering her question. Driving past Havoc, my thoughts first go to Senn and not Linc or even Luke. Maybe because for the past few mornings I’ve been eating the saltine crackers he brought over before I get out of bed and so I haven’t been sick. Well, not until later in the day at least. When I found the plastic bag on the table after he left, at first I thought Luke had brought them, but then I realized the bag had the logo from a beach store. Knowing Senn had gone to get them for me that morning is beyond sweet and surprising. But it doesn’t matter. He’s probably already fucked his way through half a dozen non-pregnant women by now.
A few minutes later, Whitney and I are seated at a table in the busy Mexican restaurant.
“So, how are you feeling?” Whitney asks once we’ve ordered.
Reaching for a salty chip from the basket to settle my stomach, I tell her, “Pretty good. Morning sickness is still making me its bitch. A few nosebleeds and fatigue. How have you been?”
“I’m trying to stay strong and think positive, but it’s hard. Why couldn’t you be an evil stepsister?” she asks, and looks away when she uses her knuckle to brush away a tear.
“I’m sorry we’re biologically related,” I tease.
She laughs before grabbing her own nacho chip and dipping it in salsa. “You know what I mean. So distract me with gossip. Tell me about Linc’s wedding. Was his bride hideous in a burgundy dress or something equally revolting?”
That gets a smile out of me. “Nowhere near hideous,” I admit. “Claire wore a Princess Zelda dress.”
“No shit!” Whitney giggles.
“It was beautiful. Everything was. And Linc seemed ridiculously happy.”
“Oh yeah?” she asks. “That sucks.”
“I’m happy for him,” I tell her. “But I’m not sure it’s gonna last.”
Of course I feel a tad guilty for what I plan to do and the problems it may cause, but I’m just trying to do what’s best for the baby. A little girl deserves to have a mother and a father.
Chapter Eight
Senn
The gym’s front door opens and in walks Luke, the cocky bastard, with a gym bag over his shoulder. I hate him because Abby lets him stick around. In fact, over the last week and a half while I haven’t seen her once, he’s probably been with her every damn night. Fucker.
When he sees me and starts heading in the direction of the boxing ring where Mason and I are taking a breather, I straighten up from the ropes and pound my gloved fists together. There’s nothing I would love more than going a few rounds with him, even though I know it wouldn’t be a fair fight. I outweigh him by at least forty pounds and have years of experience under my belt.
“Congrats on the big win,” Luke tells Mace with a grin. Reaching up, he offers a fist bump that Mace hits.
“Thanks.” Mace looks back and forth between me and the blond asshole who’s not even old enough to drink yet. Hell, Mace isn’t either, but he just seems older and more mature than this prick.
“Run along now,” I tell the boy when he keeps standing there, arms hanging casually over the lowest rope next to Mace. At least he’s smart enough to stay out of my reach. “Aren’t you late for the tween karate class?”
“Abby has a doctor’s appointment Monday at eleven, Wake OBGYN at 2200 New Bern Avenue, Suite 314,” he quickly rattles off. “You should go.”
That’s not what I expected to hear come out of his mouth. I assumed he wanted to linger around to tell me how good it feels to fuck her or brag about how many times they’ve screwed each other’s brains out.
“She doesn’t want me there,” I reply when I recover from the shock.
“It’s your baby, too,” he says with a shrug.
“Why do you give a shit?” I ask curiously.
“Because I care about Abby, and I think you do, too,” he says, and I would almost swear there was tremble in the pussy’s chin before he starts to walk away. “Let’s just say that I have my own selfish reasons, okay?”
“What the hell was that about?” Mace asks when the underage douchebag is no longer in sight.
“Not real sure,” I grumble. “All I know is that Abby’s been fucking him.”
“Oh,” Mace mutters. “Well, in that case, I’m surprised you haven’t given him a beat down yet.”
“Don’t tell Linc or Jude, but I actually have.” One of Havoc’s rules is that there’s no outside brawling allowed once you step out of the gym doors, especially with teammates. All offenders are immediately kicked out and never allowed back.
“I hate to break it to you,” Mace says with a gloved hand on my shoulder. “But you’re already head over heels for Abby, bro. Alanis wrote a song all about that shit.”
“Who the fuck is Alanis?” I ask, refusing to acknowledge that he may be more right than I care to admit. There’s something gut-wrenchingly wrong with the idea of Abby being with someone else. It’s not reasonable or logical, but I can’t seem to shake the wrongness it causes inside me, bubbling like lava. One of these days I just might erupt. Erupt as in pound my fist into that fucker, Luke’s face over and over again.
“Alanis Morissette,” Mace answers my question, but then waves his gloved hand through the air. “Never mind. I forgot that you don’t have any sisters. So, are you gonna go to the doctor’s appointment or what?”
“Why should I? To get rejected again?” I ask.
“Don’t do that,” he says with a shove to my chest. “Don’t pussy out because you’re scared of getting hurt or looking like a fool. You’re gonna have to step up with actions instead of words if you want to be a part of your daughter’s life and prove to Abby that there’s more to you than being a careless dickwhore.”
“Asshole,” I reply, flipping him off with both gloves in the air since I can’t flip him the middle finger.
“Man up and get ready for her to knock you down a few times before you finally get the upper hand,” he says. Moving back to the center of the ring, he’s clearly ready for us to keep pounding on each other. “You won’t know unless you try, right?”
…
Abby
I lay on my horn with the heel of my hand when the Mercedes in front of me doesn’t budge at the green light. Finally, grandma wakes up and puts her foot on the gas. I’m already running five minutes late for my ultrasound appointment after getting held up on a conference call at work. The bride flip-flopped on purple or pink lilies for the centerpieces until I was ready to pull my hair out. I finally said to hell with it and told her I would pay for both myself.
Squealing my car’s tires into the medical park lot, I pull into the first available space, grab my purse and hightail it to the elevators. I’m pushing the up arrow button repeatedly, like that will make it come faster, when a familiar deep, masculine voice behind me says, “Pregnant women shouldn’t drive so recklessly.”
Spinning around on my black strappy heels that are killing my swollen feet, I find Senn leaning against the hallway wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans, wearing my favorite shirt to see on any fighter, the tight, black, cotton Havoc tee that shows off all the hard earned muscles across his chest and down his arms. The shirts also remind me of Linc.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, more breathless than I should be from the short hike from my car. I hate to admit it, but Senn looks good. Better than good, all big and intimidating with his long wavy hair pushed behind both ears. Just the sight of him has me cowering like a damsel in distress, wanting to beg him to save me and then carry me off to be thoroughly ravaged. I’m obviously a glutton for punishment.
“I’m going with you to your appointment.” He doesn’t even formulate the words into a polite question. And I really shouldn’t be even more turned on by his assholy assertiveness. Stupid hormones.
“How did you know this was my doctor’s office or when I had to be here?” I ask.
He glances away, looking out the glass windows in the lobby inst
ead of answering me. Before I can play detective to figure it out myself, the elevator dings. And as soon as the doors open, Senn steps forward, following me on. He even presses the number three on the panel, so he must know my doctor’s on the third floor.
“I didn’t say you could come with me,” I point out after the doors close.
“Does it look like I’m taking no for an answer?” he asks, stepping into my personal space, threatening, and…and hot. So hot. He smells good too, that familiar, comforting scent of sandalwood that I swear still lingers in my bedroom from the first night he came over months ago.
Thankfully, the elevator door opens again before I have a chance to do something stupid like kiss him. Or yank his zipper down and fuck him. The pregnancy hormones are a slutty bitch with low standards and not a single ounce of shame. Despite how horny I am, I still haven’t slept with Luke or let him go down on me, even though he spends practically every night in my apartment. I do make sure that he doesn’t have to leave with blue balls the next morning. Why haven’t I taken that final leap with him? I’m not completely sure, but I know it has something to do with Senn. Maybe I’ve been giving him a chance to say he wants…more with me and will give up other women. Stupid I know, since it’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens.
Making my way to the front desk, feeling my gigantic shadow follow me, I check-in, and then take a seat to wait for them to call me back. Thinking through this while Senn silently taps on his phone next to me, I figure there’s no harm with him coming back today. HIPAA law protects my health information from being shared with anyone without first getting my permission. I should be fine. Everything is gonna be fine.
“Abby Merchant.” Christy, the usual ultrasound tech, short like me with a cute, brown bob haircut, calls me back, offering me a smile even though I’m late.
“Hi, sorry if I held you up,” I tell her, and watch her eyes go upward to assess the giant behind me.
“No, you’re fine. We were behind anyway. Is this your boyfriend?” she asks.
And here we go. “No. Baby’s father,” I tell her as I follow her down the hall to her room.
“Nice to meet you–”
“Senn,” he fills in for her.
“Senn,” she repeats and it comes out sounding sort of dreamy. “Have a seat there, and, Abby, you know the drill. Undress from the waist down, cover yourself with the sheet, and I’ll be right back to get started.”
“Thanks,” I tell her as she disappears, probably wishing she could get Senn undressed from the waist down. Hussy.
Since I’m wearing a black maxi dress because nothing else fits anymore, I lower my panties and lay them on the extra seat next to Senn. Then, I hike up my dress before sitting down in the reclining chair. I reach for the sheet and unfold it to spread over my naked lower body.
“Nice,” Senn says once I’m settled in.
“What?” I ask, looking up to meet his smug grin.
“I didn’t know I would get to see some pussy as part of this whole deal.”
I roll my eyes. “That is where the baby comes out, or did you think they pull them out of the navel?”
Christy comes back in before he has a chance to respond and takes a seat on the stool next to my chair. “So how are you feeling?” she asks softly.
“Great,” I say maybe too enthusiastically.
“Glad to hear it,” she replies, squirting gel over my belly and moving the wand around. “Ah, there she is.”
Senn jumps clear out of his seat and stretches his neck across me to get a good look at the screen. “Wow, she looks like a baby,” he says, voice full of wonder, and I have to bite my lip to hold in my giggle.
“She’s very modest. See how her legs are crossed?” Christy points to the area on the screen with her mouse cursor.
“Good, maybe she won’t be a stripper,” Senn mutters, and that time I do laugh. “You’re sure she’s a girl?” he asks, probably because he’d rather have a boy to follow in his fighting footsteps or whatever. While I had hoped for a girl, Linc wanted a boy from the moment I told him I was pregnant. He was so excited the day we found out…
“Oh, yeah, she’s definitely a girl,” Christy replies pulling me out of my reminiscing. She moves the wand around on my belly, and then she’s pointing out what she says are the female parts. I take her word for it.
“How is she?” I ask, holding my breath while she takes all the required measurements.
“Perfect,” Amy assures me when she’s finished. “Your amniotic fluid levels look better, and she’s a big girl, growing right on schedule for sixteen weeks.”
“Good,” I exhale in relief and could’ve sworn I heard Senn do the same.
“You can go ahead and get dressed. Let me just check to see if Dr. Jacobs wants to talk to you before you leave.”
“Um, okay,” I reply. I’m guessing the doctor will want to talk to me, but hopefully I can try to shoo Senn on out before that happens.
Unfortunately, I barely get my panties on before the doctor bursts into the ultrasound room just as I lower my dress again. She didn’t even wait for me to go to a regular exam room.
“Abby, how are you doing?” she asks, sitting down on the edge of the spare chair where my panties just were.
“Great, fine,” I answer, nodding my head in the direction of Senn, as if to say, watch your mouth.
Dr. Jacobs’s long, white hair goes flying when she jerks her head over like she just realized she’s sitting next to Bigfoot. She takes him in for a second, pushing her glasses up on her nose before facing me again.
“Is this your boyfriend?”
“No. Baby’s father,” I explain with a sigh. She nods before plowing on with TMI.
“So, I assume you’re still set in your decision?”
“Yes,” I reply tersely. When the floor begins to tilt, I plop my butt back down on the side of the reclining seat.
“Dr. Robertson just sent over your recent labs. Have you talked to his office?”
“Yes,” I snap again. I got the call bright and early on the way to work this morning. “Senn, can you wait out in the lobby for me?” I ask as nicely as possible with a fake smile.
“Um, okay,” he says, getting to his feet.
“It’s not too late, Abby, but the sooner the better. There’s no deadline for abortions when it’s a necessary medical procedure to save the life of the mother.”
Senn spins around and exclaims, “Abortion?” so loudly that I cringe. I’m pretty sure the bitch spilled the beans before he left the room on purpose.
“I’m not getting an abortion,” I assure him. “You can wait in the lobby, and we’ll talk when I finish up.”
“She should either terminate the pregnancy or agree to treatment,” the doctor says, standing up to talk to Senn. I really want to punch her in her big mouth.
Senn glances back and forth between me and the doctor with his Shar Pei forehead scrunched in confusion. “Why the hell do you think she should have a fucking abortion?”
“This is none of his business!” I stand up to protest even though the room spins around me like I’m in the center of a vortex. “How many times do I have to tell you that’s not gonna happen?”
The doctor frowns at me a second in disapproval before she turns back to Senn. “Has Abby told you that she likely won’t make it to full term?”
“I’m gonna make it to full term!” I argue.
“That’s extremely unlikely based on your recent blood work,” the doctor disagrees.
“Why not? Because she might have a miscarriage?” Senn asks the doctor, shoving his fingers through his long hair. “The girl with the wand thingy just said the baby’s healthy.”
“No, it’s unlikely Abby will make it to full term because she’s refused chemo and radiation treatment for her relapse of acute myeloid leukemia. Without treatment…her oncologist says she only has maybe three to four months.”
“That’s just a guess,” I explain.
“Thre
e…three or four months…for the pregnancy?” Senn poses the question slumped against the closed door, breathless like he just ran a few miles. If I didn’t know better, I would think he actually sounded worried about the baby.
“Three or four months to live,” the doctor helpfully clarifies.
Chapter Nine
Senn
I pinch my arm because this has to be a bad dream. A fucking nightmare. Abby’s gonna die because I knocked her up.
Oh God.
Yanking on a fist full of my shirt collar that’s tightening around my neck, I gasp in air, needing more oxygen in my lungs.
“Abby,” I start even though the doctor is still standing between us. “You’ve got to terminate. Why the fuck haven’t you already?” I exclaim.
“This is a tough decision that no one would want to make, but I’m glad that you already understand the best course of action for her. Really the only option.” The doctor speaks to me, and it sort of sounds like gibberish. “The fetus could possibly survive treatment, but it will likely result in major birth defects.”
“No,” Abby says with her palms over her bump that looks way bigger than it did just a few weeks ago. “No!”
“Abby—” I start.
“I’ll make it to full term,” she says with her chin raised stubbornly, her tone full of conviction.
“But that will be too late for you!” the doctor yells at her in frustration.
“Abby, you should at least get the treatment,” I say calmly when I really want to get on my knees and fucking beg her to do something.
“I’ll let you two discuss this,” the doctor tells us before grabbing my arm to pull me away from the door that’s holding me up so she can make her escape. Abby glares daggers at the woman through the door even after it closes again.
“She’s healthy and perfect. I won’t be the one responsible for mentally or physically crippling her, or worse,” Abby explains, rubbing a thumb over the tattoo on her wrist. “I’ve already lost Thomas. I’m not gonna do anything that could hurt her or cause me to lose her, too.”
