Page 25 of Dirty Behavior

As the hunger pain dissipated, a cramp took hold of my lower belly. Gripping my stomach, I closed my eyes and hoped it was the feeling I expected it to be.

Stepping into the bathroom, I rubbed my stomach. I was a week late for my period; which with everything that had happened, shouldn't have been a big surprise. The stress I was under was enough to make it disappear completely and send me into early menopause, stealing away my fertility.

After finishing my business, my monthly reminder of youth was nowhere in sight. The cramps had subsided, my heart thudding heavily at the idea of being pregnant.

What if? No, I can't be.

Could I?

I couldn't remember if I had last month or not. It came and went, sometimes late, sometimes early. When I was at Remo's, it had a mind of its own—but it always showed up.

A nervous jitter cascaded around my body, but it felt like more of an excitement than a depressive weight smothering my lungs.

Maybe the dark side of my personality saw it as a fuck you to Remo, a fuck you to the man who wanted what I had chosen to give away to another.

Or maybe it was the idea of having a family again, a hint of what I was torn from. The single notion I could create the love for another that I longed to have, it made me smile. I wanted to feel a life inside me, I yearned to share the same love I was taught to have. But nothing could replace what I lost.

And still I wanted it back in some form, I wanted to share myself with a life I created.

The timing might not fit the lives we were living, but Dante and I weren't cautious. Which was both stupid and invigorating in the same breath.

We both knew that we were playing with a loaded gun.Pun intended.We didn't use protection or even try the good old fashioned pullout method.

Both of us just let the moment happen, giving in to the need.

There was always the chance I could get pregnant, that his seed could chisel its way through and plant itself inside me.

But I also didn't think either of us really cared.

At least I knew I didn't care. But Dante hadn't even mentioned being careful, he never tried to stop himself from coming inside me. We were both adults, we knew the risk, even if neither of us said it.

My life had been confined to a single home, to a man who I didn't want, to a life I never asked for. When Dante stormed in, stealing me away and claiming my heart. . .

Well, I guess the idea of having his child wasn't a fear or a nightmare like most young women my age might view it.

It was a blessing, it was cementing our love together and freeing me completely from the past I couldn't escape.

A child meant we would always be connected no matter where life took us. That was something no one could take from us regardless of what happened.

I'm not pregnant. I'll get it any day now.

Stress or no stress, it's always come at some point.

Holding the sink with both hands, I let my head fall to my chest as I sighed.

If I am pregnant, then everything right now would be worth it to give our child a real life.

I needed to grasp something to solidify and rationalize what we came here to do. And our baby would deserve a good life, a free life.

It would deserve to grow up running around a yard and playing out in the open. It deserved to chase fireflies at night and bury their toes in the sand, free of fear.

If things kept going the way they were now, our child would grow up never experiencing the sun on its face, or wind in its hair.

It wouldn't be fair to the baby for Dante and myself to bring it into the world under those conditions.

We're doing the right thing, I won't doubt that.

I couldn't fault myself for thinking too hard about what we were doing. Fuck, we were about to kill a man. Deserving or not, that didn't mean I didn't have to reiterate it to myself at times.

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