Page 24 of Hung Up on the Hacker

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Cash sat in stunned silence, not willing to speak until he figured out the right thing to say and the best way to handle this so that Hadley was okay. Because, right now, she definitely wasn’t.

Despite her fragile show of bravado, she was obviously terrified. Of the situation. Of what he’d say and do. She so clearly believed on some level that he’d judge her for what she’d shared. That he’d think the worst of her. A part of him wanted to be insulted at that, but it was exactly what many people thought when confronted with a story like hers. That it was her fault. Her penance. Purely her responsibility simply for being a woman. As if the guy hadn’t had anything to do with it. And that son of a bitch had walked away because there were no rules in place to hold men accountable.

Her choosing to go against that social expectation had to have taken unimaginable strength. And Cash was so fucking glad for her sake that there had been a choice, because having that baby at eighteen would have irrevocably changed her life. Changed her. And who she’d become was amazing.

“Holt doesn’t know.” That was absolutely certain, because if he had, she was right… the asshole wouldn’t still be breathing and Cash would have been the one called to help hide the body.

“No one knew. Except the asshat who bailed. The doctor. And now you.”

“Thank you for trusting me with that.” It was an act of trust. She could’ve told him about this pregnancy without ever breathing a word of her prior experience.

The ring seemed to pulse in his pocket. He wanted to pull it out and propose right now, but he’d heard what she said about getting married because of a baby being a terrible idea. He didn’t want her to think that it was only because of the baby. He loved her. He wanted her. And damn it, why hadn’t he said so sooner? Would she even believe him now?

Focus. That was a problem for later.

Because he didn’t think he could get her hand back without a fight, he curled his fingers around her ankle, wanting to touch her, to give her some kind of comfort.

“You’re right that I was one of those unwanted children. I don’t know what my mother would’ve been like if she’d had an option not to have me. Maybe she’d have been better. Happier. I can’t unwish my existence, but a big chunk of those years was hell. I know there are some people out there who’d argue that I’m a success story. A reason to choose life. Look at all I’ve accomplished. But I’m the exception, not the rule. I fought tooth and nail for every fucking thing I have. And I was lucky, having you and Holt. Not everyone is. Hell, based on how all of us grew up, I’d argue most aren’t. So, you did the right thing. It makes no logical sense to have a child you didn’t want and couldn’t afford. It would’ve destroyed your life.” That had been the message beaten into his head on the daily when he’d been young. That he’d been the reason his mother’s life was over.

“And none of that is to say I believe you’d do any of the things my mother or yours did if you choose to have this baby. You know exactly what it’s like, and you’d never put a child through that. I actually think you’d be an amazing mother, because of what you went through. But only if you want that for yourself. If you do, I’ll be there with you, for both of you, every single step of the way and after. If you don’t—either because you’re not ready or because you don’t want a child with me—” The idea of that hit him in the chest with a pang, but he forged on. “—or at all, that’s okay, too. There are options between both those extremes. It’s your choice, and I won’t force you on this.”

Her body shook as the tears spilled over, and Cash couldn’t take it anymore. He scooped her out of the chair, hauling her into his lap and wrapping his arms tight around her as she sobbed out her fear and, he hoped, found some relief.

It gave him more of a chance to absorb the news himself. This wasn’t some hypothetical potential future like he’d been kicking around this past week. They’d created a child between them. The reality of that struck him like a bullet train. It hadn’t been on purpose, but that didn’t make it any less meaningful. They’d made a baby, and something deep and visceral responded to that. Wanted that.

But what if she didn’t? If she was willing to carry to term—and that was a big if—would he be willing to do it on his own? What would he be willing to do as a single dad? It wasn’t a question most men asked themselves, probably. Men inherently weren’t expected to do what single mothers were all the time. They weren’t forced to bring children into the world that they didn’t want. Not in the same way as women. And if he made that decision, no doubt people would praise him for being some amazing guy simply for doing the minimum right thing as a parent. The double standard was staggering and disgusting. But it didn’t stop him from asking the question. Would he want to raise a kid on his own?

He’d been a child utterly rejected by his biological family. He never wanted his own child to feel like he had. He wanted to be there for every moment, to make absolutely certain his child never felt unwanted. And because of that, he knew he couldn’t force this on Hadley. He couldn’t force himself on her. It wasn’t his right. Even wanting this child, he couldn’t very well demand that she carry it to term. As he’d told her, it was her body, her decision. In no universe could he insist she endure a pregnancy and everything that went along with that, physically and emotionally. That wasn’t fair or reasonable.

Long after she’d soaked his shirt, Hadley lifted her head to look at him. Those gray eyes looked almost silver behind the sheen of more tears. “I need to know—everything else being equal, what do you want?”

This he didn’t have to consider. The answer was simply there.

“I want you. At the beginning, middle, and end of the day, I always want you. I want us. You don’t have to decide right this second. It’s a lot to think about. And it seems like the first order of business would be finding out how far along you are.” They needed to confirm she really was pregnant, and that everything was okay. That it wasn’t one of those ectopic pregnancies she’d mentioned, or something else that endangered her health. Then they’d have a better basis for making a decision.

Her face went white. “I can’t do that here. It’ll get back to Holt.”

Yeah, he didn’t need to be hearing this news yet.

“Then we’ll drive up to Johnson City or down to Knoxville.”

She swallowed again, her voice a little tremulous. “You’ll go with me?”

Cash combed the hair back from her face, cupping her cheek in his palm. “Every step, Had.” Then he gently laid his lips over hers.

Hadley couldn’t believe they’d gotten a same day appointment. The Johnson City doctor’s office was nice, as such places went. Clean, modern lines, lots of light, and a boatload of floral prints that were probably supposed to be relaxing but didn’t override the pervasive scent of antiseptic. The staff appeared to be entirely made up of women, which Hadley appreciated. If she was going to have to wear this absurd paper gown that barely covered her, at least the only guy to take in the show was the one who’d already seen every inch of her.

That guy currently stood sentry by the exam table, blocking her from the sight of anyone who might come into the room. The body language of the gesture betrayed the soldier he’d once been, though he’d inherently been a protector from the beginning. The heart he so carefully shielded would never allow him to walk away from an innocent who couldn’t defend themselves. That was one of the things she’d always loved about him, even before she’d fallen for him. There’d been so little safety in her early life. What she’d enjoyed had been entirely because of her brother and because of Cash.

His steady presence was the only thing keeping her from flying apart while she waited, cool air kissing skin she didn’t want exposed. She wasn’t a prudish woman. She was proud of her body, of the art inked into it. But this made her feel vulnerable. Afraid.

And yet, it was such a vast difference from the last time she’d been in this position. Then she’d been utterly alone in her terror. So very young to be carrying the weight of such a huge decision. She’d meant what she’d told Cash last night. She’d never regretted making that choice. But it had been so very hard in the moment. Even at the clinic where the procedure had been performed, they’d forced her to endure the ultrasound. Made her look at the screen so that the full reality of what she intended was made clear. They’d accepted her decision without argument, given back her freedom. The only cost was the shame and guilt. It had taken her years to work through that. To be comfortable in the certainty that she’d made the right choice, not condemning herself and a child to poverty and struggle.

“Hey.” Cash’s voice pulled her out of the memory.

He’d circled around in front of her, bracing his hands on either side of her legs on the exam table, caging her in. From anyone else, the move might’ve been domineering and made her feel claustrophobic. But from Cash, it felt safe. As if he were wrapping that cloak of unflappable calm around her.

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