Page 35 of Mountain Daddy

Pregnant.

I'm pregnant with Nikolai Vetrov's baby.

The test slips from my numb fingers and clatters into the sink. I grip the counter so hard my knuckles go white.

This isn't real. This can't be real.

But the evidence stares back at me, tells me to look again at the two pink lines that just changed my entire life.

I sink to the bathroom floor and let the panic wash over me.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

I can't tell him.

Won't tell him.

Nikolai Vetrov is one of the most feared names in the city.

Men like Nikolai don't want unexpected pregnancies from waitresses they've fucked a handful of times.

Men like Nikolai have people who make problems disappear.

And I've seen what his version of “making problems disappear” looks like.

He can make my toes curl and my brain short-circuit all he wants. But the man who split a guy’s face open with brass knuckles isn’t exactly PTA material.

No. Absolutely not.

I will not let my child grow up in that world. Will not put my child in danger.

This desperate, addictive pull I feel toward Nikolai? It's not love. It's danger masquerading as desire.

I can no longer confuse good sex withgood for me. Good for my child.

Good sex doesn't make a good father. And a man who beats people bloody for a living doesn't make a good role model.

My phone buzzes. A text from Trish asking where I am. I'm supposed to be at work now since my shift starts in twenty minutes.

I stare at the phone like I forgot how to use it.

Work. My job. My life.

Everything I've built here, small as it is, suddenly feels fragile. Temporary.

How long before Nikolai shows up again? How long before his enemies decide I'm leverage?

I think about the bruises he left on my hips. At the time, they felt like promises. Now they feel like warnings.

The bathroom walls feel like they're closing in. I scramble to my feet, stumble into the bedroom.

I need to leave. Need to disappear before he comes back around here. Before anyone else in his world notices I exist.

My hands shake as I pull my suitcase from the closet. It's a small thing, barely big enough for a week's vacation. But it'll have to do.

I start grabbing clothes without thinking. Whatever fits. I empty my jewelry box—nothing too valuable, but I can pawn what little I have if I need to. Besides, I’ve got my savings account with a little stored away.

It's not much, but it's enough to get me out of Chicago. Enough to start over somewhere he'll never think to look.

---