Page 106 of Stone

Words I vowed to John on the night of his twenty-first birthday floated through my mind.

I’d die for our kid. I’d sacrifice myself over and over to keep them safe and away from harm, son or daughter.

Then, an inner realization hit me so hard that I flinched slightly.

John was gone, but not everything was lost. I still had our baby, and I’d protect her with my life.

Even if it meant from her own kin.

“Looks like you’re havin’ a girl,” the doctor said casually—at least I thought he was a doctor. I couldn’t tell through his scruffy clothes, long beard, and greasy hair.

My gaze slid toward the screen of the ancient-looking sonogram machine, and I smiled. “I know.”

The ‘doctor’ glanced at Robert, who stood next to me and smirked. “You’ve been busy. Two due at the same time, give or take a week—”

Robert’s hard stare shut him up.

The doctor pressed the wand back into my stomach, his eyes returning to the screen. “Goin’ by the dates you gave me, she’s measurin’ a bit small, but nothin’ to worry about. I’d put your due date around April 25.”

“Small?” I asked.

He put the wand down and snapped his gloves off. “Babies come in different shapes and sizes. Yours is measurin’ small, but like I said, she’s developin’ okay.” His eyes met mine, and he grinned. “At least you don’t gotta push out a ten-pounder. That shit’s gotta sting.” He grabbed the leather cut which had been thrown haphazardly over the back of a chair and shrugged it on. The patch showed a flame-filled skull with a rocker conveying the club name: Burning Sinners MC.

I decided there and then that he wasn’t a doctor. He was an asshole.

“Thanks,” I murmured, wiping the gel away from my protruding belly before pushing my top down and sitting up.

Robert moved to the corner of the room and went into his pocket, pulling out a stack of cash. After peeling off a few hundred-dollar bills, he murmured something to the doctor and handed them over.

My forehead furrowed.

I had no idea Robert was so well-off. I knew he did some legal work here and there, and the mayor told me once that his son was an entrepreneur, but it was just in passing. I assumed he dabbled in the stock markets, like Michael Douglas in the movieWall Street.

I’d seen it, but it wasn’t my thing.Working Girlwith Melanie Griffith was more my speed.

Jumping down from the table, I went to grab my coat, but Robert was already there, sliding it across my shoulders. Heturned and propelled me toward the door. “Remember what I said, Scalp,” he called back. “Not a word.”

Scalp chuckled. “Shall I tell Slash he’ll be seein’ ya later?”

Robert came to an abrupt halt, turned, and spat, “Shut the fuck up.”

My eyes flew up to his face, widening. I’d never heard him speak that way before.

After a pause, his taught shoulders visibly relaxed, and his blue eyes rested on mine. “Come on.” He reached for the door and ushered me through without another word.

“Is everything okay?” I asked as he ensconced me in the car.

“Fine,” he clipped out, closing the door and hurrying to the driver’s side. “There’s a way to treat those kinds of people, Elise,” he continued as he slid onto his seat. “You’re precious, and with John gone, it’s my responsibility to keep you safe. If you want to keep the pregnancy quiet for now, I’ll do all I can to support you, but by doing so, I had to expose you to filth. I’m sorry, but taking you there was a calculated risk.”

“Who is he?” I asked.

“A friend of an acquaintance,” he replied, starting the car and pulling onto the main road. “Unfortunately, in my line of work, I sometimes come into contact with scum,” he glanced at me, “It’s not something I like, but it’s necessary if I want to grow my business.”

I cocked my head curiously. “What is your business?”

He kept his eyes glued to the road as he drove. “Acquisitions, sales, imports, exports. I find things, use them up, then sell them to the highest bidder when they’re no good to me anymore.”

“Oh,” I said thoughtfully, staring at the lights of the superstore as we drove past.

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