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Every time she hung out with Trixie and Blade, she’d ask them both a million questions about Yonkers and they’d tell her that they hadn’t heard from him. A part of her wondered if her brother was just trying to keep them apart. He never really approved of any of the men that she liked, but she thought that he’d have to approve of Yonkers since he and Blade were in the Royal Bastards together.
There was a knock at her front door, and she thought about not answering it. She had spent most of the morning puking up her guts and the last thing she wanted to do was get out of bed and answer the door. Wren wasn’t expecting anyone, so what would it matter if she ignored the persistent banging on her front door?
“Fine,” she shouted, throwing her comforter back, “I’m coming.” She made her way down the hallway and to the front door. Her condo was tiny but perfect for her. Wren worried about what she’d do once the baby came, but the first thing was first—she needed to find the father to tell him that his life was about to change. Then, she’d consider alternative living arrangements.
Wren pulled open her door to find her brother standing on the other side of it. “I should have known,” she mumbled. “What can I do for you, Blade?” she asked.
Her brother looked her up and down, “You look like crap, Sis,” he assessed.
“Thanks for that,” she grumbled. “I feel like crap too.”
“Are you sick?” he asked.
“I think I must just have a stomach bug,” she lied.
“Trixie said you were sick last week when she saw you too. Have you been to see a doctor?” Blade asked. She had been to see a doctor, but she wasn’t diagnosed with a stomach bug. No, she was definitely pregnant, not that she was about to tell her brother that.
“Yes, it’s just got to run it’s course,” she said. That was partially the truth. Pregnancy usually ran its course and ended up with a baby showing up at some point.
“Okay, well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know that I heard where Yonkers went,” he said. “Some of the guys were talking down at Savage Hell and he had to go back up to New York for a while. I think his mom is sick or something and he went up there to take care of her. He won’t be back for a while.”
“I see,” she said. That really didn’t work out with her time frame since she wasn’t sure how long a while would end up being. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Why is this so important to you, Wren?” he asked. She wasn’t about to spell it out for him. He’d figure that all out soon enough.
“No reason,” she lied. “We kind of became friends while he watched out for me during Trixie’s stalker incident. He was nice to talk to and I just wanted to make sure that he was okay since I hadn’t heard from him for a while.”
“Yeah, he’s a good guy,” Blade said.
“Thanks for the update,” she said, effectively dismissing him. “I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem,” Blade said, taking the hint. “Feel better, Wren.” She nodded and shut the front door, locking the deadbolt for good measure. She had a feeling that the only way she was going to feel any better was to find Yonkers and tell him about the baby. If he didn’t want anything to do with her or his child, she’d find a way to deal with that, but he deserved to know.
There was only one thing she could do now—pack her suitcases and drive up to New York. She’d find Yonkers, tell him about their baby, and then Wren would figure out her next move. As far as plans went, she felt that it was a solid one.
Yonkers
Yonkers knew that he had to go back home as soon as he heard that his mother’s cancer had come back. She had fought and beat breast cancer once when he was just a teenager, and now that it was back, he could be there to help take care of her—even if she insisted that it wasn’t necessary. His mother had taken care of him through his good and bad years. When most people had given up on him, his mother did her best to keep him on the straight and narrow.
It took him almost two full days to drive back to Yonkers, New York, and when he got there, he remembered why he moved to Huntsville, Alabama in the first place. Home had become too crowded for him. He liked the South. The houses were bigger, the weather was warm, and the people were nicer. Being back home for just a few short hours had proven to him that he was right to leave when he did.
His mother met him at the front screen door and pushed it open. He thought that she’d be happy to see him, but the scowl on her face told him otherwise. “Hey, Ma,” he breathed.
“I thought that I told you not to come home,” she said. He hadn’t considered New York home for a couple of years now, but he wasn’t about to point that out to her.
“Mom, I told you that I was coming back to help you. I won’t let you go through this again without help,” he said. The first time she had breast cancer, he was just a dumb kid who thought that his mother would always be around when he needed her. Watching her go through hell changed that for him. He was almost too late to help his mom back then, but he wouldn’t make that same mistake again.
“You really didn’t have to come all the way back up here. I’ll be fine, Christopher.” His mom and Wren were the only people still in his life who called him by his given name. Hearing his mom say his name reminded him of the time that he spent with Wren. God, he missed her, but he needed to leave her back in Huntsville—it was the best thing he could do for her. Yonkers had made the mistake of giving into his feelings for her and taking her when she wasn’t his to take. His brother, Blade, had trusted him with his little sister and Yonkers had betrayed his trust.
“I’m sure that you will be fine, Mom, but I want to be here for you,” he insisted.
“Well, then, you should probably come in,” his mother insisted. “I can make up your bed and find you something to eat.”
He followed his mother into his childhood home and looked around. Not much had changed since he left a couple of years ago. He wondered if that place would ever change. “I came here to take care of you, Ma,” he reminded. “You don’t need to make my bed for me or make me something to eat. I’m very capable of doing both. In fact, how about you let me cook for you while you sit down and relax? Then, you can fill me in on when your doctor appointments are so that I can make sure that I can get you to them.”
“That’s not necessary,” she insisted. “I can take the bus to my treatments.”
“There is no way that I’m going to let you do that, Ma,” he said. “Think about all those germs you’ll pick up daily. Your immune system will be compromised while you’re going through your treatment, and you’ll have to limit your contact with other people.”
