Page 3 of American Hellhound
Her heart gave a little bump, despite the fear and overwhelming urge to vomit.
Ghost stood the moment he saw her, gaze asking her a dozen questions. His mouth asked: “You alright, baby?”
She gave him a tired smile. “Actually, not so much. I’m feeling kind of sick.”
Concern tugged his brows together. His hand found her hip on instinct. “Why? What’s wrong?” His unspoken declaration oftell me what it is and I’ll kill it!His expression said he thought the pictures had overwhelmed her. Which, they had, in a way…but that wasn’t why she’d felt sickbeforeshe got here.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “But maybe Ava can take me home? I don’t think I’m up to the bike right now.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
She patted his cheek as she passed him, and their family of three filed out the main doors. The cold air was a blessing against her hot cheeks, soothing the most urgent element of the nausea.
Mercy waited in the parking lot, standing beside his bike, massive arms folded. The sight of him eased the tension inside her another notch. It was always hard to feel vulnerable and shaken when Mercy was on patrol.
“Take your mother home with you,” Ghost said to Ava, in his President Voice. He looked to Mercy and the men exchanged a nod. “I gotta go back and tell the guys about this.”
“I’m not an invalid,” Maggie said with a sigh.
“I know you’re not, baby.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead, which was a smart move considering what her mouth tasted like. “I’ll call before I head that way. You call when you get there.”
She nodded. “Love you.”
He knew better than not to say it back. “Love you, too.”
Walking to the passenger side of Ava’s truck and climbing inside took a lot more effort than normal, her tongue salty and heavy. She hated the idea of the truck actually being in motion, but she had to get out of here.
“I’ll follow you,” Mercy said through the open driver window, and Ava cranked the engine.
When it was just the two of them, Maggie said, “We gotta make a stop at the drug store on the way home.”
“Pepto?” Ava guessed as she put the truck in gear.
“No. A pregnancy test.”
~*~
The problem, she reflected a half hour later in Ava and Mercy’s guest bathroom, was that they’d both stopped being careful. Condoms had gone out the window back in the very early days, and she’d slowly stopped taking the pill over the last six months. She was forty-one now, and she was starting to worry about the long-term health risks associated. She’d asked Ghost, a few months ago, if he’d ever thought about a vasectomy, and his expression had been so horrified she’d laughed herself into a stomach ache. So careful was something they definitely hadn’t been lately.
Forty-one.
Ghost was fifty-two.
Well, guess what, Daddy. There was another one on the way.
Maggie stared at the “pregnant” reading on the test window for three solid seconds, then sat down hard on the edge of the bathtub. This was the kid’s bathroom, and it was full of soft loofas and squeaky toys, no-tears shampoo and a stool nestled up to the sink. It had been predominantly green and blue for a while, but there were touches of pink now, here and there, for Millie, though she was too young to appreciate them now. If she was anything like her mother, she wouldn’t ever appreciate them; she’d ask for a pair of Fryes for her eighth birthday and never look back.
There was a soft rap at the door. “Mom?” Ava called through.
“Come in.”
She did, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it.
It struck Maggie, suddenly, like a physical blow, that Ava was a long, long way past the girl who’d come home from college a few years ago. She was still slender and beautiful. But there was a new sharpness to her eyes…and a new understanding. Motherhood had both honed and softened her, that powerful contradiction of fierce and gentle that a woman found when she realized she loved something so much she’d kill to protect it. She’d always felt that way about Mercy, though – and shehadkilled for him.
“What’s it say?” she asked, bouncing a little on her toes.
Maggie released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “I’m pregnant.”
