Page 47 of With A Little Luck
And now she’s pregnant?
I’m usually pretty fucking stellar at rolling with the punches, but apparently that only lasts until my brain literally overloads.
How am I supposed to ask if that’s my baby without sounding like an absolute fuckface?
Does it really matter if I sound like a dick?
I have to ask…
I’ll just frame it in a polite way. And hold off asking how she could abandon me in that hotel room untilafterI’m no longer bitter as fuck about it.
“Ridge and I are acquaintances.” Trigg crosses his arms. “Coworkers, if you will. We only met when I came to Burlington. I also had no idea about any prior relationshipor lack thereofthat the two of you may have had.”
“You’re a haughty fucker,” I growl, rolling my eyes.
He ignores me completely, instead splitting his focus between Hartley and Quincy.
“I know you’ve been relying on your employer more and more lately, but I’m here now, and we have an emergency,” Trigg says in a monotone voice that reminds me a little too much of Easton. “Hartley can return to his restaurant while you come with me and Ridge.”
“What?” Quincy squeaks. “What are you even talking about?”
“I told you something was wrong with that guy,” the asshole at Quincy’s side says. “You need to go before I call the cops.”
A low, dangerous growl rattles out of my chest. It’s a warning that he should heed if he would like to continue breathing.
Quincy is the only one who can kick us out. I don’t care if it’s his house—which I don’t think it is, based on what Trigg hassaid. Even then, if she doesn’t want me around, she’s going to need to answer a few questions.
The most prominent being…
“Is that my baby?” I ask, pointing at her stomach.
“Um, w-we s-should talk,” she stutters, swallowing thickly.
The look on her face as her hand flies to cradle her stomach tells me all I need to know.
“Holy shit,” I choke out.
“Seriously, where the fuck did my pants go? They couldn’t have made it that far,” Hartley mumbles, glancing around. “I never should have let my security team go. Trust me, beautiful. I can recognize a stalker when I see one?—”
“Your opinion of me matters none,” Trigg says, rolling his eyes. He focuses on Quincy and goes on. “And yes, you and Ridge clearly need to have a conversation. You can do that once we have you settled somewhere safe.”
“I don’t know what bullshit mind games you’re trying to play, but there’s no way I’m letting her leave with you,” Hartley growls, sounding like an alpha for the first time.
Trigg stomps forward, unbuttons his jacket, pulls his gun from its holster, and slams the muzzle into Hartley’s temple. “Fine, I’ll remove you from the equation completely, then.”
“Whoa!” Quincy chokes out with wide eyes. “What in the world is wrong with you?” She looks at me. “You brought him here. Aren’t you going to do something to stop this?”
“Actually, I had no idea how to find you,” I say pointedly as I rock on my heels. “Hebroughtmehere if you want to get technical.”
Her eyes narrow. “There were extenuating circumstances that I will tell you about.” She jabs a finger at Trigg. “You specifically asked me if I was afraid of you, and I told you the truth, but this isn’t okay.”
“You have nothing to fear from me,” he says calmly. “He wouldn’t, either, but he’s being even more of a pain in the ass than normal. I would love to know whyhethinks he has the right to stop you from leaving with me.”
“She’s my girlfriend, and I live here,” Hartley says, like he wants Trigg to splatter his brain all over the living room floor.
“Is this true?” Trigg asks Quincy.
“Yes, but it’s all very fresh.” She nods. “Please don’t hurt him.”
