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Things had changed too much in the last few months. Back in September, I wouldn't have thought a thing about some guy staring at me as if he thought I was amazing. I would've expected it and flashed him a little more skin just to be mean and stir him up. But getting pregnant and finally growing up a little had killed all that. Knowing my face was swollen, my stomach was forty-five inches around, and my waddle was anything but seductive, I had no idea what could be so amazing about me.
But, like I said, it didn't matter.
Once we reached the apartment, I hung back as Mason and Reese went inside together. I was glad they'd already gone to their bedroom by the time I made it through the front door. I wasn't sure if I had the strength to watch the struggle those two had to go through to get over this bump in their lives.
After a quick bathroom break, I holed up in my room and crawled into bed. But even though Baby Girl was settled and not shifting anymore, I still couldn't fall to sleep.
Pick Ryan knew about me. I didn't like that.
Chapter 5
PICK
I found myself following in Lowe's footsteps and emptying my stomach in the nightclub's bathroom, which totally sucked ass. The room reeked of piss, and shit, and an accumulation of other guys' puke. Awesome.
After I was done, I stumbled into the kitchen to wash my hands. The cook had been gone for hours since they closed the kitchen at midnight. The quiet gave me a moment to breathe in some fresh air and digest everything that had just happened and everything I'd learned.
But shit. She was real. She was real. She was really fucking real.
And pregnant. And Christ, had she really gone through something similar to what Tristy had gone through? The way she'd turned sheet white told me yes, but I was still in complete denial over that part, so I chose to ignore it for the time being.
I had plenty else to freak out about, anyway. Namely the fact that the woman Madam LeFrey had told me was my soul mate was really fucking real.
I was dizzy with the knowledge of it. My Tinker Bell was real. And damn, now I knew why I'd even given her that pet name to begin with. She'd been adorable in her huge T-shirt with a picture of Tinker Bell stretched over her bulging belly.
But double shit. Pregnant? I had not expected that.
My Tinker Bell was pregnant. But not with my baby. Not my Julian. Not my Skylar. Not my—
Fuck, I probably shouldn't feel jealous as hell right now, should I? I probably shouldn't wonder about that baby's father or want to cut his dick off with a dull spoon. And . . . man, I hoped her pregnancy wasn't the result of her rape.
My stomach revolted again. I dashed to the nearest trashcan, but I'd already emptied all the contents in the bathroom, so nothing but dry heaves came up.
Suddenly plagued by memories of all the times I'd been forced to watch Tristy be brutalized, I gagged some more. I didn't even want to consider the possibility that Tinker Bell had gone through anything remotely similar. No. Just . . . no.
But I kept remembering all those times I'd been there to clean Tristy up afterward. Who'd been there for Tink? Who'd taken care of her and—
Dammit. It hurt too much to even ponder.
A cold sweat plastered itself to my brow and my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I absolutely could not believe—
"Yo, Pick!" Ten popped his head through the kitchen entry. "The virgin and I are taking off. You good with closing?"
No. I wasn't good with shit right now. But I waved him away, and forced myself into action, shutting down all the lights and locking up the place. It was a routine that helped keep me focused on the here and now, because thinking about—
I couldn't believe she was real. She was pregnant. She'd been violated.
I was still rattled by the time I let myself into my apartment twenty minutes later.
Fighter was awake and crying in the swing where I'd left him. Cursing, I hurried to him and pulled him into my arms. When shit and piss splattered my arms as the diaper that could contain no more disintegrated and plopped to the floor, I almost puked from the rank smell. Thank God I only had dry heaves left in me.
"Damn it." Dodging the mess, I hurried him to the bathroom to clean him off. After a quick wipe down of both of us and a good scrub to the floor, I carried him back to my bedroom where his crib and his baby stuff were kept because I'd promised Tristy I would get up with him every night. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."
My rage helped keep me centered on Julian and getting him taken care of.
Had Tris not even heard him crying? I wanted to shout at her, strangle her, and hell, I don't know. But this was no way to treat a child. I knew she was dealing with a lot of baggage, but three months ago, Julian had become a higher priority to me than she was, and I was so close to the end of my rope with her, my anger scared me. I was shaking from it.
I had never thought that would be possible. After watching her get shit deal after shit deal in life, I figured I'd always want to protect her and take care of her. I would always be patient and understanding. Except now, I just wanted to rip her fucking ass for the way she handled her own son.
