Page 146 of Crimson Tears

Then, I have to take into account the type of people we deal with. They would be at risk, their life would always be at risk.

I can see it now, raising them to be strong and teaching them all of these skills just to have them resent all of us in the end and run away. Only for them to eventually be kidnapped and tortured by someone as unhinged as Green, and maybe even killed before we could get to them.

Or worse, they grow up in this life, love it, and become a ruthless assassin with no morals or sense of right and wrong. It’s wrong to kill people.Well, most of the time.But how do you teach a child the difference? What age is it appropriate to buy them a gun?

Oh my god. Cillian is going to buy them a gun before they can walk, I know it.Then, Boris is going to yell, and it’ll confuse the kid as I sit there and try to explain the situation.

Some people say there’s no manual for raising kids, but that’s not true! Tons of people have written manuals, but no one has ever written a book about how to raise a child in a crime family.

Maybe I should write that book?

No, stop it, Nessa. We aren’t going there because we aren’t having this baby.

Doc is coming back soon with equipment to see if the pregnancy is even viable. There’s a possibility it’s not, and I’ve done all of this worrying for nothing.

A knock sounds at the door, and I close my eyes to collect some strength because the look Boris gave me when I told him we can’t keep this baby already took everything out of me.

My nausea has finally subsided, and Boris removed the IV once the fluids finished. He looked like he needed some space, so I told him to leave. I couldn’t stand the way he was staring at me, hope and disappointment warring in his eyes.

“Come in,” I say, knowing it’s Cillian. He never wanted kids; maybe he’ll be on my side here. Except, the moment he enters the room, I can see it on his face too. He wants this baby.

I turn away from him in the bed, intent on hiding my face so that he can’t see how angry I am. It hurt when he left, but I would have done the same if I could have, so I can’t fault him for it.

“Ness?”

I shake my head, refusing to look back at him.

“Please, just hear me out.”

The plea and pain in his voice makes me want to stab him. He isn’t the one making this decision. He isn’t the one whose shoulders this falls on at the end of the day. They may hate me for making the problem go away, but what if I keep the baby and they hate me later for bringing a child into this world who will always be at risk?

It’s a lose-lose situation.

“We are not talking about this, Cillian.” I almost never use his actual name. Not since the day he asked me to be his. I can see how much it hurts him when I finally give in and face him.

“This is our decision too.”

His anger is boiling over, I can practically see him fuming. Cillian has his fists clenched at his sides and his scowl stubbornly set in place. “This isourbaby too. You can’t make a decision like this for all of us.”

I toss the blankets aside and stand in front of him, pushing his chest even as the IV line tugs on my skin, causing the pole the saline hangs on to jerk to the side. “This ismybody,mychoice. I will be the one responsible for them, always. What if it isn’t even yours? Will you resent me when the baby pops out and you see none of your features on their face?”

I shove him back again and he lets me.

“I don’t care whose baby it is, Ness. I would die to have another piece of you in this world.”

“That’s the problem!”

I’m yelling, utterly losing my mind as I look at one of the men I love and tell him something I never wanted to have to tell either of them.

“I would never forgive you if you died for them. I know in my heart I would resent my own child if I lost one of you for saving them. I can’t do this and risk losing you. I won’t!”

I should have just gotten sterilized like Laney or asked my men to get vasectomies like Evie.

My face is hotter than I’ve ever felt, as I keep pushing Cillian until his back hits the wall. The IV line tugs again.

Screw this all to hell!

I rip the whole thing from my arm with a swift jerk. The site starts bleeding as saline drips onto the floor, but the feeling hardly registers over my anger.

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