Page 8 of Blackout

For a long time, I couldn’t take care of myself. I couldn’t make sense of my feelings or my thoughts. I doubted every single thing in my life and now, here I am, consciously choosing to bring another life into this world.

“That’s not what I mean,” he says. “Lace, ten years ago, I thought I’d be dead at the age of thirty-five. Now, I’m pushing forty, got a gorgeous wife who is thirteen years younger than me and she wants to give me a baby. Don’t you get it? I wasn’t meant to live this life. I’m not the guy who gets it all and yet here I am. Breathing and basking in the beautiful that’s around me.”

“Maybe you stepped in shit somewhere,” I joke, desperate to keep that look of contentment on his face. “I hear it’s supposed to be lucky.”

“You’re a smartass.”

“A smartass who loves you like crazy,” I tell him, dipping my head to give him a kiss. His hand doesn’t move from my belly and that causes me to smile against his mouth. Fears aside, I can’t wait to make this man a father. He doesn’t know it yet but Blackie’s going to be the best daddy.

The sound of his phone ringing interrupts the moment and I reluctantly roll off him as he reaches for it on the nightstand.

“Your old man has the worst fucking timing,” he growls as he presses the phone to his forehead. Raising an eyebrow, I watch as he ignores the call and bites out a curse. “Think if I told him I was about to eat your pussy, he’d stop calling?”

“I think he’d shoot you.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he grunts, tearing the phone away from his head. I watch as he swipes his thumb across the screen and lifts it to his ear. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The carefree look flees his face and I tear my eyes away from him. Sighing, I slip out of bed and make my way into the bathroom. Blackie’s right, my father has horrible timing. I suppose we should be grateful he called rather than just show up uninvited.

Once, after we first got married, he started ringing the bell while we were in the shower. Neither of us heard the bell but even if we had, we wouldn’t have stopped fucking to let him in. Anyway, he helped himself inside by breaking our window. He couldn’t unsee what he saw when he found us and since then he mostly calls.

Still, I hate that every time he calls, my husband looks like he wants to bury his phone in a ditch somewhere. But I don’t ask questions. Growing up as Jack Parrish’s daughter, I’ve learned some things are better left unknown. Whatever shit the Knights are dealing with is no business of mine. My job is to make a home for my man, a safe place where he can escape whatever hell he’s got on his plate. One day that role will change. One day, my dad won’t be the one calling the shots. Blackie will take his place and I’ll be the First Lady. Together, we’ll carry out my father’s beliefs. All the burdens, every enemy, and the family he’s created will all be ours. It’s a heavy load and another reason I’m sure my husband is scared about having a baby.

But I refuse to let the sins of my father dictate our life together.

In fact, I think it’s time for daddy’s little girl to pay him a visit.

Over the last few weeks, he’s been dumping a lot on Blackie. I don’t know if it’s because the last enemy to threaten my father’s territory, Vladimir Yankovich, has been a phantom and my father feels helpless against his wrath or what but, I want him to lay off my husband and if Jack Parrish listens to anyone in this world, it’s usually me.

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?

My father doesn’t listen to anyone but himself and sometimes his maker.

Should be a fun conversation…said no one ever.

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