Page 67 of Accepted Precedent
“Mickey will brief you on everything that happened last night once you’re home.”
“Shit. Tim is… dead? Of course she can stay with us, as long as she needs. Any of the guest bedrooms should be fine,” I finally answer.
As quickly as she came in, she’s gone, leaving Andrew and me with more questions than answers. We rush to get dressed and pack up all of Mickey’s luggage—a shower can wait until we get home.
Making our way downstairs, Kristin is waiting for us in the lobby. She’s typing on her phone and glances up as we approach. “Hey. I’m sorry if I was short with you earlier. It’s been”—she sighs out a long breath—“a morning.”
“It’s okay.” I wrap her in a tight hug. “Between last night and everything going on with Ileah, I’m sure Mickey is keeping you busy.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
I release her, and with arms linked we walk outside to a large SUV. I glance behind me to Andrew toting Mickey’s luggage, and there’s so much longing in his gaze. He’s absolutely in love with my sister. I wish so much was different—for all of us.
Guilt overcomes me. We’re stuck in this charade for at least a year or two—maybe more—trapping him with a child he won’t want but will need to claim is his. It will kill Mickey to see the man he loves raising his child, and Andrew will likely resent me. Maybe I should consider terminating my pregnancy after all. Once we get home, I’ll need to sit down with him and Mick to figure out what to do.
The silence is deafening on the way home. There is so much to say, but the weight of it is heavy. We pull up to the house, where five black SUVs with tinted windows are parked. Kristin takes my hand, squeezing it once before letting go.
“What’s going on?” I whisper to her.
“Please don’t hate me. You now have around-the-clock security, a full-time house manager, a chef, a housekeeper, access to a medical team on stand-by—including an OBGYN—and a personal driver.”
“I think the fuck not.” I don’t wait for anyone to open my door, flinging it open with a huff and slamming it behind me. Storming into the house, I shout, “You’re taking this daddy thing too far, Mick!” I continue farther inside and find Mickey in the kitchen, sipping whiskey. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He lifts his glass. “Celebrating.”
“Celebrating what exactly?” I kick off my shoes, not caring that he’ll tower over me if I get any closer. “Making me a prisoner in my own home?”
His brows pinch. “No, I’m celebrating us having a child.”
“I don’t even know if we’re pregnant for sure!”
“About that.” He slides a bag across the counter and watches me intently as I open it. “Even if you aren’t, you will be one day, and you’ll need a full staff to help and ensure your safety.” I pull out a pregnancy test and two small teal boxes wrapped in white ribbon. “Don’t open the boxes until you take the test. The one you open depends on the result.”
“There you are,” Andrew laughs as he enters the kitchen. “Kristin said we have a full staff now?”
“Aye, you do,” he muses as I insist, “No, we don’t.”
“Which is it?”
“You do,” Kristin chimes in. “Mr. Gallagher insisted I arrange it, even after I explained it would piss off my sister.”
“And she’s right,” I grumble. “I don’t need a cook or a driver, and I certainly don’t need security.”
“Take the test, angel,” Mickey says into his glass, and the man is fucking smirking.
“What test?” Andy asks, brows furrowed.
“If I take the test, will you fire everyone?”
“No.”
“Come on, Mick. Be reasonable. We don’t need that many people working here.” Andrew sighs, examining the boxes. “You’re pregnant?”
“Take the test,” he repeats, pushing it closer. “What happens next depends on if there’s a little plus sign or not.”
“You’re pregnant?” Andy repeats, a little more forcefully.
“It’s a digital test—no plus sign,” I deadpan, hating all of this. I’m not even sure what I want to do about the pregnancy since we haven’t had time to talk about it. I knew Mick would be overprotective, but I don’t need anyone running my household for me; it would be stifling. “What happens if I’m not pregnant?”
