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"Yeah, somethin' happened. She's not been able to keep anythin' down. She's dehydrated."
"Fuck, man, is she okay?" he’s worried about her, she’s not been at work and Py and I haven’t said anything about what’s going on. I guess today he’s wanting to know more.
"She's home and she's doin' okay. She's lost weight and she's weak. But that's not what's fucked up."
I hear his swift intake of breath. "Christ, brother, what did you do?"
"I asked her for a paternity test," I say low. "The look of devastation on her face will haunt me forever. Fuck, brother, I hurt her. I fuckin' hurt her so badly."
"Fuck," he hisses. "Damn, Preacher, that's fucked up. Please tell me you had a little more finesse than that?"
I chuckle. Christ, I wish I did. "No, I tried to work it through in my head, tried to figure out what I should say, but it just tumbled out, and yeah, I blurted it out."
He shakes his head. "That's a motherfuckin' uphill battle you've got to make amends."
"Tell me somethin' I don't know. It's fucked. I know she's not lyin' to me. I know deep down that she's carryin' my child. But I'm so twisted inside, Wrath, I can't function. I need to have proof. It's crazy, I get it, but fuck, I need to know that it's my child before I get attached again. I can't lose another child."
His hand lands on my shoulder and he squeezes tight. "I get it," he says low. "I really do understand where you're coming from. You've been through hell and you're scarred. You've been burned and you don't want it to happen again. You're protectin' yourself, and there's nothin' wrong with that. But the way you've gone about it is fucked up, brother, and while you're tryin' to do what's right for you, you hurt your woman along the way."
I run my hands through my hair. "I did, and that's something I'm not sure I can repair. You didn't see her face, brother. You didn't see how fuckin' hurt she was."
"You've got time, Preach. You've got time to make things right before the baby gets here."
I nod. "I do, and I plan on ensuring that everything is worked out before he or she gets here."
"How do you think it'll go down when you and Ailbhe speak?" he asks.
I groan. "Fuck, I have no idea. I'm hoping it'll go smoothly and we'll be able to talk but I'm not sure. She's hurt, and if I were in her shoes, I wouldn't want to talk to me."
"But she's not you," he laughs. "She's sweet and innocent. I doubt she'll be an asshole. I don't think she'll dismiss you."
"I hope you’re right." I really do fucking hope that she's willing to let me speak.
"Will you open up to her?" he asks, and I recoil. Fuck no. "Brother," he says, shaking his head. "Fuck, you have to let her in. Don't you think she deserves to know the truth?"
"No," I say vehemently. "She doesn't. No one needs to know it. Understand?"
"Understood, brother. Trust me, I get it. You don't want to tell her, that's fine, but fuck, it should be told. It'll help her understand a bit more about you and that you're not an asshole for the sake of being one."
I raise a brow. "I'm always an asshole, Wrath. Always have been and always will be."
"You aren't always, Preach, but the shit that you've done is assholeness. Telling Ailbhe what's happened will help repair the relationship. It will make things easier for you."
"That may be so," I growl. "But it ain't fuckin' happenin'."
I can't and won't tell her that. She's got enough shit going on right now. She's stressed, and the last thing she needs is my shit on top of all that. My past is exactly that, my fucking past, and it needs to stay where the fuck it belongs, and that's nowhere near Ailbhe or the baby.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, brother. Just know that we're behind you. We'll do whatever it takes to help you get through all this."
My chest warms and the pain lifts a bit. "Appreciate that, brother," I say with gratitude. My brothers are my family, and I'll do whatever the hell it takes to ensure they're safe. I have their backs and they have mine.
"There's a party tonight," he says. "Just wanted you to know."
Fuck. That's not what I need right now. I've not touched a drop of alcohol for the past three weeks. I lapsed on the first week after finding out what happend with Ailbhe and Pyro set me straight. I’m trying, I’m truly fucking trying. It’s been a fucking month since I fucked up even more with Ailbhe. I'm trying to be responsible. It's fucked up. The dreams are back in full force and I'm barely sleeping. I hate that I'm not able to drown my sorrows, but fuck, I need to get my shit together.
"What time?" I ask, wondering if I should go to the club tonight instead.
"Sorry, brother, but you're here tonight," he says through his laughter. The fucker damn well knows what he's doing.
