by Gemma Weir
I sit in the car in a state of shock. My nausea has long passed, but now I feel sick for a different reason.
Oh my god, I’m fairly sure I’m pregnant with Cam’s baby.
I’m a sensible, mature, responsible woman. I run a successful business and have a net worth in the millions. How the fuck did I forget something as simple as a fucking condom?
I have literally no excuse, nothing to tell myself to make me feel better. I forgot, and judging by the look on Cam’s face, so had he. Perhaps forgot is the wrong word, forgot would suggest it was a one-time thing, but the truth is we’ve had sex several times and protection just never crossed my mind. Whenever he touches me all I can think about is more: more kissing, more touching, more orgasms. I’m mindless in his arms, so consumed by the way he makes me feel that everything else becomes small and meaningless. This isn’t something either of us did deliberately, we just got caught up in the moment and we forgot.
A cold sweat ripples across my skin and an overwhelming tide of exhaustion washes over me. I need to be proactive. I need to get a pregnancy test and find out for definite, but my body is screaming ‘bed, sleep’, and right now I’m a slave to its desires.
My sister pulls into my driveway and I drag my weary body from the car and head for the front door. Dove follows closely behind me, my keys gripped tightly in her hand. At the front door she steps in front of me and unlocks it, pushing it open for us both to walk through. I point to the bowl on the side table. “Just drop my keys in there please.”
She nods and drops the keys into the bowl, pulling the front door shut behind us. She follows me as I kick off my shoes, pad into the living room and slump down into the couch. Dove takes a seat in the chair opposite me and leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “Are you pregnant?”
I lift my eyes to hers and blink out a single tear. “I don’t know for sure, but I think I could be.”
Her face softens, and she moves from the chair and sinks to the floor in front of the couch. She takes my hand in hers and squeezes. “Sissy, I haven’t asked, because firstly it’s none of my business and secondly because you didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it; but what’s going on with you and Blade? Are you together? Are you just sleeping together? What?”
Groaning, I roll onto my back and cover my face with my hands. “He told me he was falling in love with me,” I say.
“What?” Dove asks, practically shrieking.
Sitting up, I lower my hands from my face. “Five weeks ago, he told me he was falling in love with me and I said nothing. I couldn’t speak. I tried, but nothing would come out.”
“I don’t understand,” she says coaxingly.
“It’s hard for me to let people in, Sissy,” I admit, my gaze locked on my feet.
Dove moves to sit next to me on the couch and her arm curls around my back. “What happened?” She asks.
“He left.”
“But you’ve seen him loads in the last few weeks. He’s helped with the renovations on this place. You’ve both been at the club together, at parties.”
“I know. He comes here every night and we sleep together, just sleep. He holds me in his arms all night long, but he’s gone by the time I wake up every morning. But he hasn’t spoken a single word to me since that night, until two nights ago,” I say, my voice cracking as tears start to fall down my cheeks.
“Oh, Sissy. You guys will figure it out,” she says soothingly.
“We were supposed to talk about it tonight. I was going to try to tell him how I feel, but now with this,” I say, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach.
“He loves you.”
“I’m a mess, Dove. I can barely tell him I have feelings for him. Plus, I saw his eyes when Liv said I could be pregnant; he was fucking terrified. What the hell am I going to do?” I cry.
“I don’t know, Sissy, but we’ll figure it out,” she says, resting her head on my shoulder.
Closing my eyes, I try to draw strength from my sister. For years I’ve tried to be the strong one for her, but I’ve never needed her more than I do right now. “I’m so tired.”
“Okay. Nap now, real life later,” she says, sighing deeply.
Lifting my head, I turn to face her. “I love you, Angelique.”
A tear rolls down her cheek. “I love you too, Nicole.”
She stands, and I silently follow her to the front door. She turns, sighing deeply, then pulls me in for a tight hug. Closing the door behind her, I’m left all alone again. I drag my heavy, tired feet up the stairs and into my bedroom. Stripping off my clothes I pull on a baggy sleepshirt and practically fall into bed, barely two seconds later my eyes fall shut and I let the exhaustion overwhelm me.
My eyes are heavy with sleep, but I fight to wake up—my body lethargic and unwilling to relinquish the peace of exhausted, dreamless sleep. The pillow beneath my head is warm and comfortable and seeking its comfort I curl my face in closer. I breathe in his scent and I know without being fully conscious that he’s here with me. Reality washes over me, and Cam, the baby, fear and panic all start to consume me. My heart beats faster and even though I don’t know if I can, I know that it’s time to deal with my current situation.
Rolling off his chest, I push up until I’m sitting with my knees folded into my chest. “Hey,” I say, my voice small and weak.
Cam tilts his head to the side and stares at me, his eyes wary and uncertain. “Hey.”
We fall silent, and the tension in the air feels like it’s choking me. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“Tired,” I reply.
“You’re pregnant,” he says, a statement rather than a question.
I flinch at the word and close my eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do, Duchess. We both know. My baby is growing in your belly and you’re shit out of luck if you think I’m going to pretend it’s not happening,” he growls.
Pushing myself away from him, I shuffle back in the bed and pull the covers up over my waist, conscious that I’m only wearing a t-shirt. “Why do you sound so pleased about this? I could be pregnant, Cam, with a baby, an actual baby that I’ll carry for nine months and then give birth to. A baby that will change my life and be my responsibility until the day I die.”
“Our,” Cam says, interrupting me.
“What?”
“This baby will change our lives, not just yours, and if I sound pleased it’s because I am. You’re pregnant, Duchess. My baby is growing inside of you right this second. Her little heart and limbs are all developing and she’s getting stronger every day. It’s a fucking miracle.” He pulls me back across the bed and into his arms again. “I can’t think of anyone I’d want to make life with more than you, Nikki. Our kid is gonna be soft and caring and beautiful, but she’s also gonna be strong and resilient and full of so much fucking attitude just like you are.”
Tears pool in my eyes but I fight them back. This isn’t right, he shouldn’t be pleased that he knocked me up; he should be angry and running. I don’t know how to deal with it. Why is he calm?
I push away from his touch and wrap my arms around myself. “Why are you treating this like we planned to have a baby? Like we’re a couple and this is the next milestone? We’re not together. You haven’t spoken to me in weeks.” I shriek, before a gasping sob escapes from my throat.
“Nikki, we’re together,” Cam says with a bitter laugh.
“If we’re together then we have the most dysfunctional relationship in the world. This is serious, Cam. You’re a guy. You can walk away whenever you want. If I’m pregnant and I decide to have this baby, it’s a lifetime commitment. I can never just say I don’t want to be a mom anymore.”
“What the fuck do you mean, if you decide to have it? There’s no way in hell you’re getting rid of my baby,” Cam says, his shoulders pulling back and his body tensing ominously.
Needing to escape, I flee from the bed and stand on the other side of the room, my arms wrapped tightly around mys
elf, literally holding myself together while everything falls apart around me. “We don’t even know if I’m pregnant. I’m not going to argue about something that could be a moot point.”
Cam unfurls himself from the bed and lifts a white paperbag from the bedside table. “So go find out.”
I shake my head and back away from him until my back hits the wall. “No,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not ready.”
“Duchess,” Cam says an edge to his voice.
“No, Cam. I’m not ready.”
He storms around the bed, pulls my body into his with one hand and cups my cheek with the other. All his sweet understanding is gone and in its place is hard resolve. “I don’t give a fuck what you’re ready for and I couldn’t give a crap if you want to do this. It’s happening, so get your ass into the bathroom and pee on this stick.”
I open my mouth to protest but he cuts me off with a ferocious growl. “Now.”
Anger rises in me, pushing the fear down. I narrow my eyes at him and push at his chest until he releases me. Snatching the paper bag from his hand I move past him and into my bathroom, slamming the door behind me. A second later the door swings open and Cam stands in the doorway, his beautiful mouth twisted into a scowl.
“I’m not peeing with you standing over me,” I seethe.
“Hell, you’re not, Duchess. I’ll keep you in here until you pee on that fucking stick. I got all day and nothing to do.”
“God, I hate you.” I hiss at him.
“Well that’s okay, ‘cause I love you enough for both of us.” he snarls with a wolfish grin.
I physically jolt at his words. He loves me. If he’d said that to me this morning I’d have thrown myself into his arms. But now everything has changed. This baby has changed everything. Lowering myself to the toilet I pull down my panties and sit down. I snatch the bag from where I’d dropped it on the counter and rip it open. Inside are four different types of pregnancy test, my eyes widen in surprise. “Why the hell are there so many?” I cry.
“’Cause I didn’t know which one was the best, so I got one of each. Use them all.”
I stare at him. “I don’t need to use them all, one will do.”
“All of them,” he snaps.
Grumbling under my breath I open all four of the boxes and uncap the tests. “Can you at least turn away?”
“No.”
“Fucking asshole,” I say, pushing the first test between my legs and starting to pee. One by one I pee on all four sticks and then place them in a row on the counter. Wiping, I pull up my panties, flush the toilet and then fasten the lids onto the tests. Pointedly ignoring Cam who is still barricading the door, I cross to the basin and wash my hands.
“How long do they take?” Cam asks.
“How the fuck should I know?”
Scowling at me, he reaches for one of the boxes and studies the back. While he’s distracted, I take the opportunity and escape the bathroom, sinking back down onto the bed. I pull my legs into my chest and rest my head on my knees. My future lies on four sticks covered in my pee. How did this happen? I’m not the girl who forgets protection. I don’t take risks in my personal life. I don’t make friends or have meaningful relationships. The past two years have been about being independent and creating a life for myself. How did I let this happen?
“It takes four minutes,” Cam says, stepping back into the bedroom.
“Okay,” I say quietly, not lifting my head to look at him.
The silence between us seems to stretch for hours, but in reality it’s only been a couple minutes. Why is it when you have no idea what to say, the quiet is worse than jabbering on about nothing?
“It’s time,” he says.
I nod, but I don’t make any effort to move.
“Duchess,” he says, his voice as much a warning as a request.
Sighing deeply, I lift my head and slide my feet to the floor. I force my limbs to move; my muscles filled with a fear that’s making them heavy and lethargic. Cam steps toward me, his hands reach for me, but I bat him away. I need to do this alone, to take this step into the unknown by myself.
He crowds behind me and I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck as he shadows me into the bathroom. The sticks—innocuous plastic harbingers of joy or desolation—sit on the counter waiting for me. How can inanimate objects look smug? The four little plastic sticks seem to be sneering at me, daring me to look, but my feet won’t move. My body is rigid, frozen to the spot and incapable of getting any closer.
I need to run. I can’t do it. I can’t allow a plastic stick to dictate my future.
“I can’t look,” I cry.
“Fine,” I say, stepping around Nikki and moving on stiff legs to the pregnancy tests that are lined up on the counters.
My heart’s pounding like it wants to jump out of my chest and the urge to puke is so strong I’m amazed I’m keeping myself together. Depending on what they say my life might change completely today.
I’m trying to be strong for Nikki. She looks like she’s about to have a meltdown, but really I’m fucking shitting myself. The thought of my kid growing in her belly makes me want to beat on my chest and scream “My woman. My kid.” But then I start to think about who I am. I’m a murderer. I’ve killed people for money and that’s stained who I am so dark I barely recognize the light anymore.
I don’t deserve to find something that brings light into my world. I hid in the shadows, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to be judge and executioner. I’m the angel of death, only I was too fucked up to realize it wasn’t my job to appoint myself to the role.
My chest starts to hurt as breathing becomes harder. Fuck, if she’s pregnant this kid is gonna have me as a dad. Is he or she going to inherit my sins? Will they be as tarnished by my acts as I am?
Rasping in shallow breaths, I look up to see Nikki reflected behind me in the mirror and suddenly breathing becomes easier. Tears are running down her cheeks and her hands are wrapped tightly around her waist, like she’s trying to make her body form a barrier around herself. But despite how scared she is, she looks beautiful and regal and powerful. Even if I’m tarnished and damned, she isn’t. Nikki is a fucking beacon of light, hope, and strength, and any kid that is half hers could never be touched by darkness. She’s frightened, but when she embraces the baby growing inside of her, she will fight for it so fiercely that our demons will run in the opposite direction rather than face her wrath.
I never considered becoming a parent until her, and although I didn’t expect this, my heart is glowing with more love than I ever thought it was possible to feel. A sense of calm washes over me and I march over to the sticks. The lady in the store told me to get the digital ones. She said they were easier to understand, like I’m a fucking moron who can’t read one line or two. But I bought them anyway and as I look down on the tests I’m glad that I don’t have to try to interpret lines and crosses.
Exhaling, I let my eyes focus on the first test. The little display window shows the word ‘Pregnant’ in clear black text. A smile twitches at the edge of my lips and I turn my gaze to the next stick.
Pregnant.
I look at the next.
Pregnant.
Then I look at the final stick.
Pregnant.
One single word, eight letters, that shatter the world as I know it. I can’t help the huge grin that overtakes my face. From one second to the next my fear evaporates and all that’s left is elation. My Duchess is growing a person inside of her. My kid: half me, half her. I know I should be worried, but I can’t help thinking this happened for a reason.
Slowly I turn around and look at her. My eyes fall to her stomach and she instinctually lifts her hands to cover the place where our baby is growing inside of her.
“Oh God. I am. I’m pregnant, aren’t I?”
I lift my eyes to meet hers and I nod. “Yeah, Duchess, you are.”
“Fuck,” she whispers, a tear falling from her w
ide, frightened eyes.
In a single stride I reach her and pull her into my chest. “I’m sorry you’re sad about this, Nik, but I’m not sorry it happened.”
Her body trembles with her sobs and I lower my lips and drop a kiss to the top of her head. “I, don’t, think, I, can, do, this,” she says between shaky sobs.
“You can. You’re so fucking strong and you’re gonna be an amazing mom.”
Her sobs seem to increase at my words. I don’t know what to do. The last couple days she had let her guard down and was letting me in. I want to make this okay for her. I don’t want her to regret our baby.
She pushes at my chest and reluctantly I allow her to step out of my embrace. “I need some space, Cam. I need to deal with this on my own.”
“No.”
Tear-swollen eyes snap up to mine. “What?”
“You heard me, I said no.”
Fire sparks in her eyes and I watch as she comes to life. The fear and trepidation replaced with anger and indignation. “Excuse me?”
My Duchess seething with anger is a sight to behold and right now I want her more than I ever have before. Stepping into her personal space I smirk at her. “I. Said. No. You don’t get to deal with this on your own, because you’re not alone anymore. Both you and the baby growing inside of you are mine. You don’t get to fob me off with your independent attitude, Nikki. It’s time to stop pretending and admit that you want me just as much as I want you. I love you, Nikki, and I love our baby because it’s a part of us.”
Her sharp inhale of breath is like balm to my ears. Angry or eager, she’s always fucking amazing to watch and I fold my arms across my chest and wait for the show to start. “Cam, this is too much, it’s too much.”
I silence her with a kiss. I don’t touch her anywhere other than my lips on hers and she groans. Pushing my tongue into her mouth she meets it, matching my rhythm stroke for stroke and within seconds her arms are wrapped around my neck and her tits are pushed into my chest. I keep my hands by my sides. My fingers itch to touch her, but I need to make a point.
“Touch me,” she gasps between kisses.
