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Nik was busy enough with recon that he didn’t need to know that Luna has been sick. He definitely didn’t need to know that I scheduled a house visit to have her checked out. He already thinks there’s more going on between us than there really is. He doesn’t need more ammo.
“You know I like being there for you when you need me, Yakov,” Dr. Mathers says, “but I don’t feel comfortable breaking doctor-patient privilege.”
“Sure, I understand that.”
There’s a pause before a shell-shocked Dr. Mathers says, “You do?”
“Absolutely. You don’t want to break doctor-patient privilege, but you’re super comfortable writing pain prescriptions for patients who have never been under your care at doses far beyond industry standard.”
He clears his throat. “I really can’t discuss other patients’ prescriptions with you.”
“There’s a lot you ‘can’t’ discuss with me. Maybe you’ll open up when the state medical board comes knocking with questions about your connection to petty dealers all over the city.”
Mathers sucks in a sharp breath. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“You think I can’t find another doctor to discreetly patch up some bullet holes from time to time? There’s a line of doctors even shadier than you who would kill for the opportunity. Literally.”
“Ms. McCarthy could just tell you herself,” he says. “You could talk to her and?—”
“I’m not paying her. I’m paying you. Start talking.”
“Talking about what?” Nik grumbles. “What is going on?”
Dr. Mathers sighs. “Luna is experiencing all the signs of a perfectly healthy pregnancy.”
It takes a few seconds for the words to sink in.
It takes a few more seconds for my brain to power down and do a hard reboot.
By the time it’s up and functioning again, a million thoughts are flying through my head at once.
“She’s…”
“Pregnant,” Dr. Mathers repeats. “She has been experiencing morning sickness, so I prescribed her a prenatal vitamin and a B6 supplement. But she should really see an OB-GYN. I don’t have imaging equipment, so I could only guess at how far along she is.”
“How far along?” I growl, jumping on the question.
Was Luna pregnant when I met her? Is she carrying her asshole ex’s baby? The thought alone turns my knuckles white around the steering wheel.
“Estimated conception is around three weeks ago.”
I don’t need to do the math. Mine. The baby is mine.
Dr. Mathers is saying something about emailing me a list of recommended gynecologists, but I hang up. I drop my phone in my lap, every thought in my head devoted to the fact that Luna is pregnant with my child.
“What was that about?” Nik asks. “Who’s sick? Is this about tonight?”
Tonight? What’s tonight?
I must look crazed because Nik reaches over and grabs the wheel like he thinks I’m going to veer off of the road. “What the fuck is happening, Yakov?”
“I’m going to be a father.”
The words sound even more bizarre coming out of my mouth.
I never planned to have kids. Actually, I’ve never thought about kids enough to explicitly decide I didn’t want them. After my dad was killed and left us behind, I knew I never wanted to do that to my own children. The best way to avoid fucking them up was to never have them in the first place. Nikandr’s eventual kids could inherit everything as far as I was concerned. But now…
All the air whooshes out of Nik’s lungs. “What?”
