Page 77 of Deserter

She looked back down at me with a grin, palms patting at my chest as she panted, “Jamie… that… was… amazing!”

“You’re not hurt?”

“Are you kidding me? I feel fantastic!” She lifted her arms up over her head with a giggle.

I tentatively brought my palms back to rest on her belly and sighed, “Jesus, babe, you scared me. I just worry with the baby—”

“She.”

“She?”

Celia nodded and covered my hands with hers. “She. We’re having a little girl. I wanted to tell you when the time was right, but the time is never going to be right.” Her stomach shifted suddenly beneath my hand and I looked up in alarm, causing her to giggle again. “It’s okay. She’s just saying hello.”

I was having a daughter.

“Can she hear me?” As if to answer, the baby pushed against the palm of my hand again and my throat tightened.

Mikey was mine; I’d known it since I first laid eyes on him, but I hadn’t felt a connection with him before he was born. Feeling my baby girl kick my hand left me with a feeling I didn’t even know how to describe though. I was protective over someone I hadn’t even met yet.

I rubbed her belly again. “Hey, it’s Daddy.” My voice had gone husky on me and judging by the way Celia was scrunching up her nose, she was fighting back tears too. I watched, mesmerized, as her belly continued to shift and transform beneath my hand.

“So,” Celia cleared her throat. “I was thinking we could name her Mary Katherine.”

My mother’s name.

“Where did you hear that?”

She bit her lip. “Well, I found a Bible in one of the closets and the name Mary Katherine Quinn was inscribed on the inside. If you hate it, we could just call her Mary—”

“No,” I said, much louder than I meant to and Celia pulled away. I couldn’t hear that name and not picture my old man screaming it in anger. “What if—what if we called her Kate?”

I didn’t want to see my dead mother every time someone said my little girl’s name. The baby stretched against me and I smiled. “I think she likes it. What about you, babe?”

“Kate,” she repeated with a nod. “I like it.” The baby continued to dance around, but Celia’s eyes had grown heavy.

It was my turn to take care of her.

I gently lifted her in my arms until my cock slipped free from her body before yanking the blankets down. I got her settled on her side before climbing in and pulling her back to my chest.

Tonight, the demons were silent, and I fell asleep, with my daughter dancing beneath my palm.

* * *

A baby began crying from somewhere nearby and I sat up in bed with a start. The familiar decor of the clubhouse was gone, replaced with the decor of my childhood bedroom.

“Celia?” I looked around the empty room in alarm before throwing the blankets off my legs and running into the hallway.

I swayed into the wall as the icy fingers of fear wrapped around my chest.

The furniture looked exactly as it had the night I walked out, nine years ago. I stepped around the couch with a growing sense of panic, knowing I was going to see her body behind the front door.

The entry way was empty, and I sighed with relief until I saw the trail of blood on the carpet, taunting me.

“Celia!” I screamed and the baby’s cries grew louder. I covered my ears and yelled her name until my voice was raw.

The blood wound through the den and down the hall to our bedroom and I stumbled toward it with a groan.

Why had I moved her into this house?

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