Page 87 of Deserter

“Betsy, I shouldn’t—”

“You cunt!”

I winced as she shoved me forward, sharp pain slicing through my belly. I gripped the edge of the sink and tried to straighten before doubling over again with a cry.

I felt a soft popping sensation and then a gush of fluid began trickling down my thighs. “I—I think—”

The bathroom door swung open and slammed against the wall with a thud, but I didn’t look up from the puddle gathering near my feet.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Jamie’s boots came into view, stopping at the edge of the river flowing out of me.

My water had broken… it appeared that it was still breaking as every little movement sent another flood down my legs. A pale pink stain spread across Yiayia’s dress and I found myself wondering if it would lift.

I brought my eyes up to meet his and carefully said, “I’m in labor.”

My thoughts were jumbled and nonsensical. I wasn’t concerned with finding a hospital, but with finding a dry cleaner to ensure that my grandmother’s wedding gown could be restored. As if that was my most pressing concern at the moment.

“Okay.” He began pacing before coming back over to me. “Okay. Don’t fuckin’ panic, Celia.”

Betsy watched him with an ashen face before looking back to me and I realized that I had it wrong. Her weakness was Jamie, not Comedian.

“I didn’t touch her, I swear,” she forced out, daring me to say something.

My stomach clenched and I let out a rough exhale, drawing Jamie’s attention back to me. “We need to go.”

“I can drive her,” Betsy offered. “You should stay and enjoy your night.”

Oh, hell no.

I gripped his leather vest in my hand and yanked him closer to me. “If you don’t get her out of my sight and me to a hospital, Jamie Quinn, so help me, I will murder the both of you.”

He reached for my hand and lifted me easily into his arms. “Betsy, get the door and then get the fuck out of my sight,” he growled.

I kept my head down and remained silent as Jamie carried me through the clubhouse and out to my car. I couldn’t look at him as he settled me into the passenger seat and deposited his leather vest in the trunk. I didn’t have a coat and immediately began shaking. Maybe it wasn’t even the cold anymore; maybe I was finally going into shock.

My new husband wasn’t about to become a father. He was already one. He just hadn’t told me. Another contraction hit and I closed my eyes, breathing through the pain.

Jamie cranked the heat up and managed to navigate the dirt roads without jarring the car too much. It was the only thing I could find to be grateful for when it came to the man in the driver’s seat.

“Say something, Celia. Call me an asshole… beat the shit out of me… whatever. I can’t take you being quiet.” His words were like ice water, rousing me from my thoughts and pulling me back to the present.

“It’s true then.”

Jamie stared straight ahead as flakes of ice began to pummel the windshield. “It’s true. Mikey’s mine.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “So, you and Betsy were—are—”

“Fuckin’ nothing, babe. It was one night; I swear to you. I didn’t know who her Ol’ Man was, or I never would’ve touched her.”

I’d known that he hadn’t cheated on me, but it didn’t make the confirmation of a son any easier to bear. Now that I knew her true motives, I didn’t want Betsy anywhere near my family.

“Did she hurt you?” His voice was soft, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles were white.

“She shoved me into the sink.” I turned to him. “But, you know what? That’s not what hurt me the most. What hurts the most is knowing that you kept this from me and put me in a situation with her where she had the upper hand.”

My belly tightened with another contraction and I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the headrest. Jamie’s hand connected with my knee, holding me until it let up. I looked at the clock on the dashboard.

“That was eight minutes, right?”

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