Page 45 of Penn

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here,” Capone says. “This could be traumatic for someone in your position.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Penn snaps.

“I’m going to be giving birth in a few months,” I say. “It’s a thoughtful suggestion, but I’m okay. Really. I’d worry more at home than I am here.”

The heavy doors at the end of the hallway swing open, and Jolene Molloy walks into the waiting room. Zep’s mom is a strong woman, and the truth about Zep being a product of rape only showcased how strong she really is. But her normally poised and put-together appearance has faded, and she looks about ten years older than her normally youthful appearance.

Her skin is pale, and her hair is disheveled, haphazardly thrown up to fit beneath a cap. Her hands tremble as she moves them over her hips, finding no pockets in the scrubs she was given to wear.

“Jolene,” Jethro says, his voice soft but still commanding like the president he is. “How is she?”

She swallows hard and looks around at everyone. “It’s not good.”

“What does that mean?” Kannon asks.

“There are major complications. The doctor said something about placental abruption. She’s bleeding, and they can’t get it under control.”

My hand squeezes Phoebe’s, and when I glance at her, she looks less than hopeful for the first time that I can remember. She’s bleeding, and they can’t stop it. Not yet.

“There’s a chance that she’ll bleed out, and they’re going to do an emergency C-section. They’re worried about saving the baby.”

“The baby? What about Misty?” Kannon asks.

“They’ll do everything they can, but if they can’t get the bleeding under control, we might lose her. Top priority is the baby right now.”

The words are like a giant gust of wind, knocking the breath out of everyone sitting in the waiting room collectively. No one knows quite what to say, and the room remains silent.

Blood drains from my face, and I press my left hand hard on my belly, the little kick of the baby the only thing currently grounding me. Reminding me I’m here and present.

Misty might die. The sassy woman who came into town and shook up Zeppelin’s life like a tornado with her beautiful daughter who has special needs. The two of them captured the hearts of everyone, and she’s fighting for both her life and her baby’s now.

It’s not fair, and I fight the tears that come to my eyes. This isn’t the time to cry about this, and it’s certainly not about me. But it’s not fair. She doesn’t deserve this, and neither does Zep. Bernie sure as hell doesn’t, and the innocent unborn baby just trying to fight her way into the world definitely doesn’t deserve this hell we’re currently sitting in.

A cold wave of panic hits me, and my breath catches in my throat. I have to fight the urge to gasp for air as everyone around me lets the facts settle on the situation at hand. I need space. I need to step away.

Without a word, I pull my hand from Phoebe’s, lift myself off the chair, and hurry out of the overbearing waiting room until I find an empty hallway. Gripping the bar on the wall, I gasp for air, taking long, deep breaths as I try to calm myself.

Misty has this entire family here for her. The father of her baby. His mother. His club. I am completely and utterly alone in this world.

My father hasn’t looked at me in years. Not since I told him what I truly thought about him and his treatment of Mom. And Mom’s locked away in her latest psych ward stint. The father of my child had my place set on fire, hoping I was inside with our unborn child.

If something goes wrong with my delivery, if I end up bleeding out like Misty, who is going to fight for my baby? Who is going to hold his tiny little hand and make sure he’s loved and cared for?

Penn’s been wonderful, and he says he wants me, but this baby could change everything. Can a man truly want another man’s baby? To raise as if he made it himself? There’s a very good chance that once this baby comes, Penn will realize this is more than he can handle. And what does that mean for my baby if something happens to me?

My knees feel weak, and the floor seems to tilt as I stare at it. Penn’s strong hands help brace me as he says, “Dixie,” with such concern in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

I can’t fight the tears, and the fear takes over. The fear I didn’t know I had until Jolene’s words knocked us all on our asses.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he says, pulling me against him as I sob into his T-shirt. “Maybe Capone was right. I should’ve left you at home with Princess.”

Shaking my head, I sniffle. “No, I needed to be here.”

“Misty’s a fighter. I’ve seen it firsthand. If anyone can make it through, it’s her. And if she passed even an ounce of her feistiness onto her daughter, she’s going to pull through, too.”

I swallow and push away. “It’s not that. I mean, yes, I’m worried about Misty, but she has this entire family to support her. Zep will be here, no matter what, for that baby and for Bernie. I have no one. I’m completely alone, and if something happens—”

“You are not alone,” he says, his eyes glaring into mine. “You hear me, Dixie? You are not alone.”