Page 22 of Speed

Chapter Nine

Sami

Sleep failed to cometo me as I laid in bed, the thoughts of a man I really didn’t know haunted me. I needed to tell him about his daughter, but how? It wasn’t something I could just go up to him and say, “I know you don’t remember me, fucking me, but would you like to meet your daughter?” Yeah, that would go over well.

Pounding the pillow and flopping from side to side hadn’t helped either. I’d do the right thing and tell him. Three weeks after my one and only night at the Black Hawks’ clubhouse, I’d woken that morning sick, my stomach turning over, sending me right into the bathroom to hug the porcelain god. When it continued each morning for three days in a row, I told myself it was the flu. Another week later, I steeled myself and headed to the clinic, denial still my closest friend. While I waited for the doctor to come in to talk to me after I’d given blood, peed in a cup, and been examined, I still held on to the denial.

But when the doctor came in, flipped the chart and verified the pee test positive for pregnancy, denial left, replaced with Mr. Mistake because I’d been on the pill and the baby’s daddy had worn a condom. I’d left out the part that he’d worn a condom at least half a dozen times in the one night because his words were “Sleep was overrated.”

“Ms. Borelli, though there is near zero percent chance when both protections are used, they aren’t one hundred percent, nothing is. I estimate from the time of your last period you are around four weeks. Do you have a gynecologist here or do you need me to recommend one?”

I’d shook my head while she continued to advise me about the risks of taking the pill while pregnant but that my OB/Gyn would take care of that part.

It had all been scary and frightening to an almost nineteen-year-old girl, but the first time I felt the baby move, nothing in life had prepared me for the emotions that surfaced, and somehow I knew it would all work out. I would do anything to make sure it did. And I had.

I’d even gone back to the Black Hawks’ clubhouse to tell the man I’d only known as Speed, that he was going to be a father and I was under no assumption he would jump for joy. I was only giving him a choice if he’d wanted to be in the child’s life—I’d owed him that much. But when I was told he was gone, I’d left with no explanation as to why I was asking for him even though they’d asked for a reason. So he’d just have to accept the fact he had a daughter. It was really all I wanted him to do, accept her, I didn’t need to be a part of the equation. But as sleep started to grab hold, I fell completely under on the thought,I wanted to matter to him too. Crazy after one night with a man I didn’t really know.

My eyes opened when the body I was draped across began to shake. I looked up through my lashes, and the man’s face in the shadowed light of the moon held a grimace. The shout of, “Get to cover” broke the silence in the room and had me frozen in place, then the arm wrapped around me tightened, leaving me no other choice but to wake him or stay still and see if his dream would pass and he would go back to sleeping soundly.

He mumbled unclear words until he yelled “Noooo!” The way it was said sent chills over me and I realized whatever he dreamt was not easing, nor was it fading back into the recesses of his brain. So I moved my arm from my side slowly and placed my hand lightly on his chest and began to rub. His breath exhaled, and his breathing began to settle, his body relaxing more with every motion of my hand. My touch soothing him.

I don’t know how long I watched this man sleep, but I’d continued to run my hand over his chest and arms, then back again. I caught myself tracing his tattoos as if outlining them. I hadn’t seen his back, but assumed it too must have held a tattoo since almost every space from his neck down was nothing but tattoo after tattoo. They were beautiful, colorful, and each probably held a meaning as to why he had it done. Too nice to be just ones chosen to fill an empty spot.

When his arm went lax and dropped away releasing its hold on me, I bolted. In my head, I explained it as I had to get home, that was all. But looking back—I bolted from sure fear. The fear that if I stayed and woke up beside this man, there’d be no turning back. I hadn’t just soothed him—his touch on my skin from the time we’d entered the room had not only excited me—it had burned through me, leaving me with the knowledge he had the power to crush me.

“Mama? Why are you crying?” The hand shaking me startled me awake.

“Oh, honey, I wasn’t crying. I must have something in my eyes that is making them water.” I wiped my cheeks with my hands, sat up in bed, and hoped my daughter would accept the lame excuse. That’s when I noticed Carly leaning on the doorframe, eyebrow cocked, looking at me.

I focused on my daughter’s scrunched up face as she examined me. “You need coffee, Aunt Carly made it. She made me breakfast too.” Ally leaned in and lowered her voice, which for her wasn’t nearly low enough to keep Carly from hearing, “It was yucky, the scrambled eggs moved on my plate. They don’t move when you fix ‘em.” Carly covered the grin on her face as she sipped from her cup.

“Sorry, honey. You want me to cook you something else?” I smiled as Ally looked at me and then to Carly and back to me.

“Can I have a pop-tart?”

“Sure, baby.” She hugged me and started for the door. We both watched her leave and didn’t speak until we heard her feet running down the hall.

“Wanna tell me what that was about before?” My daughter may have let my tears go, but I should have known my friend would not.

“Nope, wanna tell me the deal between you and Crusher?” I rose from the bed and headed toward the bathroom door.

“Nope.” Carly straightened from the doorframe.

“Well, there you go. Are you on shift today?”

“Yep, going home to shower and put my uniform on. Thanks for dinner, the movie, and the couch.”

“Anytime.” I stopped before entering the bathroom and turned back to face her. Years of being friends taught me one thing, I knew when she had more to say and was trying to figure out how to say it. “What? I know that look.”

---