Page 100 of Devil's Dilemma

“Don’t tell me that.” She laughs as she leaves me alone.

I reckon she’ll be fine. She might not have a man, but she’s got a club full of members who’ll keep her boys on the straight and narrow, or not, as the case may be.

Mel’s still asleep when I get back to the room. Having dismissed Meat who was still standing guard outside her door, I undress as quietly as I can, making sure my boots don’t thump on the floor. Leaving on my jeans, I lie down on the bed beside her.

As I close my eyes, all I can see is that motherfucker telling her to get a DNA test, his malicious words and dismissal of her winding me up. I don’t think I’ve heard anything so spiteful in my life. Finally, fuck knows when, my mind eventually switches off, and I fall asleep.

It’s still dark when I awake to find her moving beside me.

“You okay?”

“I need to pee,” she explains.

“Put the light on. I’m awake now.”

She leans over and switches on the lamp on the table next to her side casting a dim illumination across the room. She swings her legs off the bed, then walks across the room and disappears into the hallway.

The clubhouse is deathly quiet, all I can hear is the hum of the air conditioning. It’s that time of the night between the late-nighters having at last taken to their beds, and the early risers not yet stirring.

My door opens again. One look at Mel’s face, and I know there’s something wrong. Immediately I’m out of bed and moving toward her.

“Darlin’?”

“I’m bleeding.”

Oh fuck. No.

“Much?” I try to keep panic out of my voice.

She nods. “Too much, Pyro.” Her voice is shaking. “Pyro…”

“Get dressed, darlin’. I’ll wake someone and take you to the emergency room.” I’m already pulling on my boots as I’m speaking.

I realise I have fuck all idea whose room the door that I’m banging on belongs to.

“What the fuck?” Crash pulls it open.

“It’s Mel. It’s the baby. She’s bleeding.”

“Give me two minutes to throw some clothes on. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Pyro?” Mel’s right behind me. “Pyro, I…”

“We’ll get you checked out. It’s probably nothing.” I try to reassure her, while deep down inside I have the dreadful feeling that something is very wrong. Even I know bleeding is not a good sign in a pregnant woman.

She clutches my hand as Crash drives. When we arrive the emergency room isn’t crowded, and they prioritise her, rushing her into a room to be examined. She still hangs onto me, her fingers tightly wrapped around mine, even though the nurse wants to throw me out.

“It’s my baby,” I tell her with a growl.

It’s eerily similar to that visit to the doctor’s office just a week ago, when Mel undergoes another ultrasound examination. But this time, there’s a significant difference. Last week we heard the reassuring, exciting sound, of a heart beating. This time, there’s nothing.

The technician moves the probe, this way and that, but nothing changes.

“Is the machine fuckin’ working?” I snarl.

“Wait here.” She disappears.

“Pyro, I’m scared. There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

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