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“You knew I would,” he answered easily, not at all bothered by my anger.
“This is private.”
He snorted a laugh. “I didn’t go into the examination room with you, did I?”
Might as well have. “I said what I said.”
He shrugged. “Look, Diesel doesn’t want to know where you go or what you do, he just wanted me to keep an eye out for any danger. Just tell me you’re okay to drive, Ellie.”
“You’re okay to drive, Ellie.” It was childish, but his smile made me smile, and suddenly I was a little less angry and scared and worried than I’d been a few seconds ago. “I’m fine, Gio. Just my annual checkup.”
“You’re not feeling dizzy or something that means you can’t drive?”
“No, just a little tired. I’ll make it back to the clubhouse, I promise.”
“I know,” he said with a grin. “Because I’ll be right behind you. Put your hazards on if you need help,” he commanded, and walked away.
If only the rest of my life was as simple as turning on the hazard lights.
“You made this bed, Ellie, now you’ll have to raise it alone for the next couple of decades,” I muttered to myself.
With too much on my mind to focus on highway traffic, I took the scenic route while I decided what to do about the rest of my life. Most immediately, when would I tell Diesel that he was going to be a father again?
I had no idea, and by the time we sat down together for dinner, I still didn’t have any answers, so I kept the pregnancy to myself, knowing that I needed to be sure, to know my own mind first, before Diesel managed to work his magic on me, and make me agree with whatever he decided.
Thankfully, I was too tired for any after dinner activities or conversation, maybe tomorrow I’d tell him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Diesel
“Fuck!” I scrubbed a hand up and down my face, wishing I could erase the past hour of my life. “Is this all for real?”
Slate and Rocky nodded, their serious expressions emphasizing the truth.
“We’ve verified it as much as we could,” Rocky said.
“I appreciate it, but son of a bitch, you couldn’t have given me better news?”
Rocky laughed. “I’m happy to lie to you if that’ll make this news easier to swallow.”
Nothing would make that news easier to swallow. It was difficult to hear, and I was sad for Stacy, but Ellie wouldn’t take it so casually. “Yeah, I know.”
Rocky clapped me on the shoulder. “Just give it to her straight, no chaser. Don’t try to sugarcoat that shit or soften the blow, brother. Nothing will make this easier to hear, and I don’t think she’ll appreciate it, if you baby her about it.”
I made my way home just in time for dinner as my mind raced to come up with a way to tell Ellie what we’d found without telling her everything. I’d learned a lot about what Stacy had been up to before her disappearance, but still there was no sign of her and nothing to indicate whether or not she was alive or dead—which was what would matter most to my woman.
Yesterday evening I’d watched Ellie over dinner, she’d seemed troubled and could barely clear her plate. Tonight, was no different, she picked at her food, eating no more than a few bites while she listened to Leo recount every detail of his day with a smile on her face. She looked tired and a little bit sad and I wanted to kick my own ass because I knew I was about to add to that sadness. I wished I could erase all of this from her memory, but I couldn’t.
I had to trust her to be able to handle it.
I would tell her later tonight. But first, there was the matter of a little boy who needed to be put to bed. “Ready?”
Leo nodded, holding his arms straight out so that I could pick him up and carry him to bed. Some might think he was getting too old for such behavior, but he was my son and I’d missed years of cuddling him and putting him to bed. I would do this as long as he allowed it.
A few months of getting my boy settled for bed and I was used to his delay tactics that usually started with taking a long time to pick out pajamas until I suggested he sleep in his superhero themed underwear. Next was his need for a bedtime story or three or four. Most nights I indulged him and other nights I put my foot down. Tonight, I allowed one story and endless hugs for five full minutes.
“Good night, Daddy.” Leo gave the best fucking hugs in the world. If you’d told me months ago that I’d relish these moments of little boy affection, I would have laughed. Now, though? I’m not sure I could live without them.
