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Of course, there is definitely a way that I could be pregnant. The first time Tyson and I slept together was well over a month ago. If I think about it, it’s likely going on almost two months now, though I’m not sure as the days blend together.
“We’re idiots,” I say, my voice wavering. “Why the hell didn’t we use protection?”
Tyson sighs and heads back into the kitchen, putting his coffee and food on the counter before grabbing our helmets and his keys.
“Come on, Aria, we’ll head into town, you can pick a test, and then we can find out if we have something to worry about or not.”
* * *
The tripinto town and back to his house is quick. My hands are shaking and my heart is racing as I take the brown paper bag to the washroom. I can barely open the box but when I do, I get the overwhelming sense that my life is about to change.
Even though I don’t know yet if I’m pregnant, it seems likely. I can count on one hand the number of times that he pulled out.
The next three minutes are the longest of my life. I don’t want to leave the washroom and face Tyson yet, so I pace around the tiled floor, counting the seconds since I still don’t have a phone.
Once I reach three minutes, I look down at the test. There are two pink lines staring back at me. My heart plummets to my feet.
There is no way this is happening.
I can’t deal with a baby, my father, and the FBI at the same time. This is all too much for one person to handle on their own.
Although, I’m not necessarily on my own. The father of my child is in the other room, waiting to see if the test is positive or not.
Just the thought of going out there and facing him makes me feel sick. I don’t know him well enough to know how he is going to react but I can’t imagine it will be good. He is supposed to be my handler. He is significantly older than me. We have a death threat looming over our heads.
I sigh and look at the test again maybe hoping to see a different result.
No such luck. Still pregnant.
When I walk out of the washroom, Tyson is standing in the kitchen. He sighs as he looks at me, running his hand through his hair.
“So?” he asks.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say, crossing the room and handing the test to him.
Tyson stares at the test for a moment like he can’t quite believe it before setting the test down on the counter. He pulls his gun out of his waistband and hands it to me.
“Here, for protection. I need to go for a fucking walk.”
“I have my own gun,” I say, trying to hand it back to him.
“Keep it and stay in the fucking house while I’m gone. Don’t go out and do any more stupid shit.”
“Tyson, take the gun.”
Tyson brushes by mewithouttaking the gun. The door slams behind him, leaving me alone in an empty kitchen with a baby I never thought about having.
With a sigh, I run my hand over my stomach. I’ll have to see if he knows a doctor that would be willing to see me without alerting my father. Though he doesn’t live in Italy, his ties to people here run deep. He has connections throughout the country.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I need food, especially now that I’m eating for two.
“What are we going to do, baby?” I ask as I take Tyson’s biscotti and make myself a mug of hot chocolate. “I’m going to keep you, I think. I don’t know if your dad is going to want that to happen but I don’t care what he thinks.”
I talk to the baby as I eat, about all my plans for us that I didn’t even know I had until they come pouring out.
Once my breakfast is done, I put on my shoes and slide my own gun into my waistband, leaving Tyson’s sitting on the counter.
Even though he told me to stay inside, there’s no way I’m going to spend my day sitting in the villa when I could be exploring a part of the Italian countryside I haven’t seen before.
