Page 110 of A Kingpin's Weakness
I didn’t say a word as I watched her move in her sleep, soft little shifts like her body couldn’t rest. And then suddenly, she shot up, bolted for the bathroom, like she was being pulled by something stronger than her.
The sound of her throwing up hit me in the chest like a sledgehammer. I didn’t chase her. I just stood there, stuck. Frozen. Listening to the girl I loved empty her stomach into a toilet while my heart broke and boiled at the same time.
She brushed her teeth, ran the water like it could wash away whatever just happened. Then she came back into the room like I wasn’t standing there watching her whole world crack down the middle.
I looked at her, really looked at her, and I didn’t know whether to hold her or ask her why. Why she didn’t tell me. Why she thought she had to go through this alone. Why she didn’t trust me with the truth.
“So you really about to kill our baby?”
She damn near jumped out of her skin when I spoke. She hadn’t seen me standing there.
“Seth, what the fuck, man?”
“Answer the question.”
“What?”
“You pregnant?”
She froze, eyes darting toward the floor, then up again. “Fucking RJ.”
“Actually,” I said, voice cold, “it was Ari. She folds under pressure.”
Stormi shook her head, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. “So you questioning people about me now?”
“Stormi, are you pregnant?” I needed her to say yes. Because if she said no, that meant it was already done. That she went through with it. That she killed my seed without even telling me.
She hesitated. Then barely above a whisper“Yeah.”
I swallowed hard. My throat felt like sandpaper. “You didn’t feel like I needed to know that?”
“I was still processing it myself.”
“But everybody else got to process it with you first?” I snapped. “Everybody else deserved to know beforeme?”
She went quiet. And I knew what I had to ask next, even if it ripped me apart inside.
“So you thinking about killing the baby?”
She straightened, eyes sharp. “My body, my choice.”
“Man, fuck all that,” I shot back, and instantly regretted it. I ran a hand down my face and took a deep breath. “Look, I know it’s your body. I get that. But why the fuck couldn’t it be our choice?” I wasn’t yelling anymore. I was hurt. Raw talking to her like my heart was laid out on the floor.
“You know I would’ve been there. You know you and the baby would be good. So, what You hate me that much you’d go through all this without me?”
She didn’t answer. Just stood there, arms crossed like she was holding herself together from the inside out.
“Grab your stuff,” I said, stepping toward her suitcase. “Let’s go.”
“No.”
“Stormi, you clearly sick. Let me take care of you. I don’t want you in this house, around all these people. You don’t gotta do this by yourself.”
“I’m not sick,” she muttered. “The baby just hates food.”
That cracked something in me. I shouldn’t have smiled, but I did. Just for a second. Because she said the baby.
Not it. Not the problem. The baby.
