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I should be terrified, but the impact is what hurts. The fall is akin to freedom.
Arriving back at Smoke, Steel, & Whiskey, I feel a sense of calmness that allows me to mask my intentions as I walk through the front door and nod at Maxim. He’s been sitting at one of the tables with his arms crossed since he got here, and I don’t believe he’s moved a hair in the entire time it took me to go to the store and back.
Part of me wants to jump in front of him and wave my hands in his face to make sure he’s real, and not some wax figure Savva dropped off to fool me. However, I have more pressing matters at hand.
I go to the back, locating the rarely used bathroom at the end of the hallway and locking myself inside. There’s a little image of Saint Christopher taped to the mirror, but not much else.
I tear open the first pregnancy test and set it down on the toilet lid, taking the second one and hiding it behind a dusty box of plasters in the mirror cabinet. I’ll use it in a week if this one comes up negative. Sometimes, it takes a little longer for the results to show up, and I don’t want to be wrong about something this important.
It takes about a minute to pee on the stick and watch it turn from a blank white square to double red lines across the front. My heart rate climbs as the colors sharpen, and it takes me a few moments to even register what I’m looking at.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter to myself, putting it down and then immediately picking it back up again. “Oh, fuck.”
I’m pregnant.
I look at my belly in the mirror, turning at different angles when I know there’s no possibility that it will have changed already.
Am I losing my mind over this? It certainly feels like it.
I put the toilet lid down and sit on it, burying my face in my hands and trying not to hyperventilate. I’ve managed to keep myself from panicking even in the worst situations so far, but it’s this one that seems to push me over the edge.
Of course, I love the baby. I want to do my best for it even without knowing who it is or what it will grow up to be like. I’m compelled to care even though it’s been presented to me without warning at a time when I have no clue who I’m supposed to be.
The mother of a Bratva’s child? Me? A girl who was born in Georgia and raised in a small neighborhood where nothing ever happened?
I place my hand over my belly and rub it gently, trying to sooth myself like I’m the baby inside. We are one and the same right now, and it’ll be at least eight months until we’re separate people.
“Okay, we can do this,” I whisper to the new team I’ve formed. “We are going to be alright.”
I believe it, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s going to make this whole mess that much messier. Savva will really have to prove himself as a man if I’m going to let him anywhere near this child. It’s not enough for him to be obsessed with me like he says. He needs to love me.
I laugh at myself in the mirror. Love? Not even my mother loves me the way she should. How can I expect a total stranger to extend to me what nobody else ever could?
I’m drawn to the feeling of panic again, but I don’t allow myself to succumb to it. I have a job to do out there, and I’m going to need to start setting up the bar in anticipation for the first customers. Kimberly will be here soon to help me.
I open the mirror cabinet and tuck the used pregnancy test and the packaging back behind the plasters with the unused test. Nobody uses this bathroom, so it should be safe there.
And for now, I have to pretend none of this ever happened.
24
Savva
Maybe the bear is too much, but it’s too late now that Oakley has already spotted me. She’s expecting me because it’s payment night, which also means it’s super busy, but that doesn’t stop her from abandoning her place at the bar and running up to me.
She hugs me, burying her head into my chest and taking me by surprise. I hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction. Normally, she tries to be more secretive that we’re involved, especially when the bar is so busy.
“What’s that?” she asks, looking at the little bear I’m holding.
I turn it so that she can see her name stitched into the front. “I got it for you. It’s super soft, which reminded me of your skin.”
“A little creepy,” she replies, taking the bear from my hands and examining it. “But also, super cute. I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”
I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s, um, just a token of my appreciation. You’ve been really cool about all this.”
She points at the little heart on the front. “Seems pretty romantic.”
“They put that on there without me asking.”
