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“You’re the one who takes that goddammed pill.”
The blood in her veins began to boil. Who the hell was this man wearing Copper’s skin? It certainly wasn’t her man. Her lover. Her husband. With a huff, she stomped around the kitchen island to the counter where she kept their medications. After opening so hard the door bounced back, nearly hitting her in the face, she ripped out the packet of birth control pills and whipped them at Copper. They hit his chest, causing him to fumble the plastic case, but he managed to hang onto them.
“Count ’em.” She folded her arms, tapping her foot as she waited. Never in all the years she’d know him, had she felt this angry toward Copper. “I haven’t missed a single one. But I did have a sinus infection a few months ago. Remember? The one I took antibiotics for. And I believe you were the one who wanted to risk it, knowing the pill could be ineffective. Remember that?” She sure did. It’d been an epic night that most likely resulted in the pregnancy. Now it all felt tainted.
He tossed the pills on the counter without opening the pack. “Shit’s heading south with the club, Michelle.”
Michelle? When the hell had he ever called her Michelle? Was this supposed to be his way of distancing himself? “I know…” she said. When was shit not difficult with the club? Lately, it felt like they were constantly battling something or someone. “So, what are you saying?”
“Saying it’s a bad fucking time to have a fucking kid.”
A few more comments like that and he wouldn’t need to schedule a vasectomy. She’d take care of it for him with a swift and debilitating kick to the nuts. “And what would you like me to do about that now?”
“Not goddamn thing you can do now, is there?”
She blew out a breath. At least he wasn’t asking her to get an abortion. Because that was a conversation that could end them. “Look, Copper…”
Staring at him, she shrugged then averted her gaze. She had nothing. He didn’t want this baby. What the hell else could she say?
As he ran a hand through his hair, he sucked in a giant breath then let it out slowly. Calming himself down. For the first time since she’d admitted the pregnancy, a small seed of hope bloomed in her stomach. Maybe he’d been too surprised to handle the news. Maybe he was about to gather her in his arms, apologize, then tell her he loved her.
“This was a fuck up,” he said, and her knees buckled.
She grabbed the counter to keep from collapsing.
“A big fucking fuck up, but we’re stuck with it now.” He paced across the kitchen. “Fuck. Wish I’d had that vasectomy three fucking months ago,” he said as though he was the only one in the room.
Well screw him.
Shell grabbed a rubber spatula off the counter. Her chest heaved with building rage as she hurled the utensil across the room at her stupid, pigheaded man. The damn thing bounced off his arm, probably feeling like being hit by a cotton ball.
“Ow! What the fuck, Shell?” He said, turning toward her.
She placed a hand over her stomach. “I’m sorry that the child growing in me, the child I was so excited about, the child that is half you and half me, is such a fucking mistake in your eyes.”
He took a step toward her, hands out. “Shell, calm down. You probably shouldn’t get so upset.”
She laughed another one of those harsh sounds. “Now you’re concerned about me? Don’t worry, Copper, I’ll take care of this fuck up all by myself. We already know I can handle it all alone.”
She turned and started to storm out of the kitchen.
“Don’t walk away from me, Shell. We’re not done here.”
“Oh, we’re done, Copper. We’re so fucking done.” With that, she stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs, ignoring Copper’s irate voice as it followed her. She marched past Beth’s room without a word to her daughter. She needed a minute to calm herself so she wouldn’t pass her mood on to Beth.
Once she reached the room she shared with Copper, Shell’s anger turned to profound sadness. With an unsteady breath, she sank down on to the bed they’d purchased together after buying the house. With closed eyes, she forced herself to breathe and level out. This wasn’t the first time she and Copper had fought. One didn’t get involved with the president of an outlaw motorcycle club without expecting a strong personality, but this was by far the ugliest.
He’d come upstairs soon. Copper was the one who never let tension sit between them. As a big fan of makeup-sex—not that Shell wasn’t—he tended not to let problems fester, but to work them out quickly. Any minute now, he’d come walking up the stairs, and they’d come to some sort of understanding even if it was just to table any talk of babies until they’d both had time to process.
